Elizabeth of East Hampton (For the Love of Austen #2)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Will Darcy loved flying. The freedom. The silence. Even the turbulence. It reminded him of being out in the ocean: the irregular bumps, the occasional pitch from side to side. A small nudge to his ego, reminding him how small he was.

Charlie Pierce, on the other hand, had turned green.

“Fuck.” His friend mumbled from the seat across from him, eyes squeezed shut as the luxury helicopter angled to the left. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Are we there yet?”

Will glanced out the window. From ten thousand feet, the ocean beneath looked serene. The white crests of the waves folded into the shore, while the sun sparkled off the deep blue waters.

“No.”

Another bump and Charlie’s grip on the leather armrests tightened. “Fuck.”

Will leaned back and continued reading the biography he had started at the beginning of the flight. Now wasn’t the time to remind Charlie that he had been warned about how rough the forty-five-minute ride from the city out to the Hamptons could be. Will should know—he’d made the trek to the far edge of Long Island hundreds of times, spending almost every summer in nearby Montauk as a kid. Sure, a jet might have offered a smoother ride, but a helicopter didn’t have anywhere close to the environmental impact. Despite the turbulence—and Charlie’s weak stomach—it was the most efficient choice. And that was what this summer was all about: efficiency.

A few minutes—and half a chapter—later, the helicopter straightened out and began its descent into East Hampton Airport. The landing was fairly smooth, but when the wheels finally hit the ground, Charlie didn’t move.

“Are we alive?” he asked, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Yes.”

Charlie exhaled and ran his hands through his dark curly hair. “Thank God.”

The blades slowed, and the loud rumble of the engine came to a stop just as the door to the helicopter opened. A cool breeze swept over them as they stepped out onto the tarmac. Will allowed himself a brief moment to enjoy it, tilting his head up to the sun and breathing in the familiar smell of salt and sand floating in the air.

“Welcome to East Hampton.”

The cheerful voice broke his reverie, and Will turned to see a woman standing nearby, tablet in hand. It took him a minute to place her. She was a representative with the charter company; he had met her before a flight out to Montauk last summer. She had tried to give him her number, but he had declined. His rebuttal achieved the desired effect at the time, but today her gaze lingered a bit too long on his dark blond hair, his lips set in a grim line. And soon her smile gained a suggestive edge.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Darcy,” she said.

Before he could answer, the cockpit door opened. The pilot had barely stepped out before Charlie pushed forward and embraced him in a rough hug. “Oh my God. You did it. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir, not too bad,” the pilot replied, patting Charlie on the back as if this happened all the time. “Just a few bumps at the end there.”

The woman laughed, then brought her attention back to Will. “Do you two have plans while you’re out here?”

He didn’t bother to temper his frown as he answered, “Yes.” Then he stepped forward and clamped his hand over Charlie’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Will didn’t look back as he started toward the car with Charlie trailing behind, enthusiastically thanking the crew again. The woman would probably share the story of him being rude, one that would likely evolve into something much worse the more people who heard it. And that was fine. He had learned a while ago that a momentary break in decorum was better than the slow breakdown of a relationship.

When they settled into the back seat of the black BMW sedan, Charlie grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket. He had turned it off during the flight—according to him, looking at a screen made him even more nauseous—so as soon as the screen illuminated, a flurry of text messages arrived with one long frenetic PING . The sound accentuated the caffeine headache beginning to throb at Will’s temples.

He needed a cup of coffee.

“Everything all right?” Will asked as their car pulled out of the parking lot.

“One hundred percent,” Charlie said with a nod. “Just a few texts from Annabelle and Vivienne.”

From the sound of it, “a few” constituted well over a hundred. Even before the flight there had been nonstop messages from Charlie’s sisters, asking when he’d be there, what room Will preferred, even what temperature they’d like the pool.

Charlie hummed, scrolling through the latest litany of texts. “Sounds like the house is great. I just need to call the pool people about the heater… and get someone in to clean the windows on the second floor… and organize a different rental car…” Then his expression lightened. “But Annabelle says that she got Vivienne out of bed this morning, so that’s a win, right?”

Will nodded and turned back to the window.

That was the real crux of this summer rental: Vivienne Pierce and her impending divorce. While Annabelle had the same entrepreneurial spirit as her brother—and a successful business to prove it—the older Pierce sister, Vivienne, had made her money the old-fashioned way: through marriage. Three years ago, she married Richard Leland III, the CEO of Hurst Petroleum. Will knew it was a mistake, not only because Hurst Petroleum was under continual investigation by the EPA, but because Richard was widely regarded across New York City as a philandering asshole. Sure enough, in March, Vivienne came home to find the locks changed on their Midtown penthouse and an email waiting from Richard’s attorney, clarifying the terms of their prenup. Since then, it had been a war of attrition, so much so that Charlie had been desperate to get his sister out of the city and away from Page Six. At least for a little while.

Once the Pierces secured a house in East Hampton, it had been Charlie’s suggestion to work out there remotely all summer. At first, Will had ignored the idea, assuming it was just another whim his friend would eventually forget. After all, they had enough to deal with over the next quarter. The two friends had founded Hampshire M he didn’t want to waste his time at one out here.

The woman’s smile flattened. “Do you have a problem with palm trees?”

“Not at all!” Charlie interjected. “We love palm trees.” He turned to Will, as if expecting his friend to affirm their shared love of tropical foliage.

Will chose not to. Instead, he brought his attention back to the woman’s eyes. “We’re looking for somewhere a bit more authentic.”

She stared at him for a moment, then her smile returned a bit sharper than before. “Ohhh. You want somewhere authentic .”

Will frowned while Charlie stood with his phone poised and ready, completely missing the sarcasm laced in the woman’s tone.

“Well then, you should definitely check out Donato Lodge,” she continued.

“Donato Lodge,” Charlie repeated.

The woman nodded. “It’s just about as authentic as you can get.”

Bob coughed, though it sounded like a feeble attempt to disguise a laugh, and began ringing them up.

“Perfect!” Charlie said, typing out what Will could only assume was a verbatim transcription of the conversation so he could relay it to his sister later. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” the woman said to Charlie. She completely ignored Will.

He ignored her, too, handing Bob a twenty and waving off his change as he picked up his coffee.

“This has been great. Really great.” Charlie slipped his phone back into his pocket so he could pick up the pastry box in one hand and his coffee in the other. “I’m sure we’ll be in again soon.”

Bob hummed, his attention already back on his paperwork. “Do you have Marv’s number?”

“I think so.” Charlie paused. “Why?”

“If you go out tonight and need a cab. Cheaper to call him than going through the app.”

“Because Marv is…”

“The Uber driver in town, too.”

“Of course. Right.” Charlie nodded. “Well, thank you!” Then he turned and followed his friend out the door.

Outside, Will stopped on the sidewalk, taking a sip of his coffee as he watched the tall trees that lined Main Street sway lazily in the breeze. Just yesterday he had been in a three-hour-long board meeting, picking apart a prospective company’s earnings report. But now, as the comforting smell of the salty ocean air enveloped him, it felt like he was in a different world. Despite how it had changed over the years, the Hamptons had a way of anchoring his emotions, calming any ruminating thoughts, like nothing else ever could.

The coffee helped, too.

Charlie stopped beside him and let out a satisfied sigh. “See, this is what I was talking about! Small town, nice people. I know we’re here for Vivienne, but I think this might be exactly what I needed.”

Will stole a glance over his shoulder. Through the front window, the bakery looked empty, with only the top of Bob’s head visible behind the counter. No redhead in sight.

He turned away and took another sip of his coffee, enjoying the first moment of peace he’d had all day. “Me, too.”