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

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

For the first time in years, Will Darcy had to consider that he may have made a mistake.

Charlie stood at the front of the crowded conference room at Knightley Capital, his face drawn and his energy low as he tapped his computer key, advancing to the next slide of his presentation. He didn’t look up from his screen as he read the copy verbatim to the nearly catatonic group surrounding the long table.

Usually, presentations were where he shone. Give Charlie Pierce a fresh batch of analytical data on bioethics or solar power and he could wax poetic for hours. Not only that, but his enthusiasm was contagious. People who entered his meetings with no interest in green tech left with their eyes bright and phones out, anxious to schedule the next meeting.

That’s how it usually went, anyway. But ever since they returned to the city from East Hampton a week ago, it had been a different story.

“And as you can see from this graph…” Charlie motioned listlessly to the screen behind him. “By utilizing recent advancements in spatial genomics, Blaxton can acquire technologies around epigenome plasticity in plants to further diversify their hydroponics portfolio.”

Will grimaced. He wasn’t in the habit of making mistakes. In fact, he could probably count on one hand the number of times he had made one in his adult life. That’s not to say he was perfect. Far from it. But he was careful. Emotions didn’t enter the equation; rationality was all that mattered. It was why he had encouraged Charlie to leave East Hampton, why he spent the past week convincing him not to go back. It was the only rational decision. Or so he’d thought.

“This brings us to the projected growth in transcriptional dynamics over the next five years…”

Maybe it wasn’t so bad. A bit dry, sure. And very monotone. But not bad , per se.

Charlie advanced to the next slide in his presentation. “Now, let’s go over these numbers one by one.”

A collective groan rumbled through the room.

Will’s eyes wandered across the table to the only other two people he trusted to assess the situation.

Freddie sat with his shirtsleeves rolled up, watching Charlie with a look of morbid curiosity. Next to him, George leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed.

Then Freddie turned to Will, cocked an eyebrow and mouthed, Who died?

Will frowned. Well, shit .

Will arrived at Ford’s Cafe early and was halfway through his beer before George and Freddie walked in. They made their way over to Will’s booth in the back, ordering a couple of beers of their own before sliding into their seats across from him.

“Well, that was fun,” Freddie said, unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“If we want this viable by Q4, these discussions have to happen now,” Will said defensively. “You both know that.”

Freddie smiled before leaning his elbows on the table. “Yeah, but have you heard the saying, ‘this meeting could have been an email’?”

Will ignored him, but he still felt a muscle in his jaw tick.

George chuckled as the waitress dropped off their beers. “So where’s Charlie now?”

“Still at the office.”

“Painting his nails black and listening to Joy Division?” Freddie asked.

Will’s brow creased. “What?”

George sent him a sharp glare. “Come on, Will. In the past week you doubled our workload for the rest of the summer. Then Charlie shows up today like he just put down the family dog. What’s going on?”

“Nothing is going on.”

George was unconvinced. “Is this about a woman?”

“God, no,” Will responded quickly. “It’s about Charlie.”

The two men stared blankly.

Will took another sip of his beer then added, “And a woman.”

George released a sigh, as if he had known all along. Then Will realized that was probably true. Sometimes he forgot that George had known Charlie almost as long as he had. “All right. What happened?”

“We have another Cassidy Berger situation on our hands,” Will replied.

“Who’s Cassidy Berger?” Freddie asked, obviously confused.

“Charlie’s ex from a few years ago,” George explained. “Nice enough woman, but it was clear that she was more interested in Charlie’s earning potential than his personality.”

“Clear to everyone but Charlie,” Will added.

George nodded. “It set off a bit of a pattern.”

Freddie turned back to Will. “So who’s the new Cassidy Berger?”

“A woman he met in East Hampton. Jane Bennet. She’s a local.”

“And how much is he out this time?” George asked.

Will paused. As much as he had been able to predict the outcome of Jane and Charlie’s relationship, he rarely let himself consider how all the other usual factors were missing.

“Money wasn’t the issue.”

George’s brow furrowed, like he was mentally reviewing the conversation to find where he’d missed a step.

Meanwhile, Freddie leaned forward. “Then what was the issue?”

“Charlie fell for her. She didn’t feel the same way.”

Something in Freddie’s eyes suddenly dimmed, his usual wry grin faltering slightly.

Beside him, George shifted his weight, like he was still working it out in his head. “So she didn’t want anything from him? A car? An apartment?”

Will shook his head.

“And he didn’t promise her anything in the future?”

“No.”

“So… you just didn’t like her.”

“I didn’t say that.” Will groaned, running a hand down his face. “Why the hell are we still talking about this?”

George shrugged. “Because this doesn’t sound like a Cassidy Berger–type relationship, just a normal, run-of-the-mill relationship.”

“Whatever it was, it’s over. He just needs some time and distance, and he’ll get over it.”

Freddie let out a dry laugh. “Good luck with that.”

The comment was unusually biting, and Will wondered if Freddie didn’t have some personal experience in that department.

“So he’s not heading out east again?” George asked.

“No. He’s staying in the city. His sisters are moving out of the house in East Hampton this week and going to Palm Springs for a while.”

“What happens to the house?” Freddie asked.

“My aunt handled the rental, so she’s already working on subletting it.” Will nodded to him. “Why, are you interested?”

Freddie’s expression became sardonic. “I said I want to move back east, but not that far east.”

The rest of lunch passed as it usually did, with the three of them talking specifics of the upcoming deal, interesting leads for others. Freddie was still contemplating a move back to the city and complained that the real estate market in lower Manhattan was worse than Malibu. George tried to sell him on the Upper East Side, which inevitably led to discussing his girlfriend Emma’s aversion to moving in with him.

Will listened to it all, trying to ignore the itch in his brain, the thought that kept trying to snag his attention. It wasn’t until they had paid the bill and put Freddie in a car bound for JFK that he figured out a name for it.

Doubt. Yet another feeling Will hadn’t felt in years. But here it was, roaring to life in his chest, making him feel jittery. He thought he’d made the right choice keeping Charlie away from East Hampton. But now it felt more like a mantra to justify a bad decision. One that barely masked his ulterior motive, the one he was only beginning to realize himself: he had needed to escape a Bennet woman, too.

The thought stuck with him as they walked uptown. They reached George’s office first, though Will barely noticed.

“Let me know about that call next week,” George said over his shoulder as he turned toward the entrance.

Will nodded absently.

His friend stopped. “What?”

A moment passed as Will considered. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I’m already concerned.”

Will glared at him, then continued, “Am I overbearing?”

“Ah, so it’s a trick question,” George said with a smile.

“I’m serious.”

The gravity in Will’s voice seemed to settle in then, and his friend’s expression became serious. “I’ve known you since college, Will. I’ve watched you build your company in record time and save your friends from some awful situations while you were at it. You did that by stepping in and taking charge of whatever room you entered. And, yeah, that can be overbearing, but that’s not a negative.”

“No?”

“No. Because you’re always right. It’s one of your worst traits.”

Will was surprised by the smile at the corner of his lips. “Right.”

George chuckled. “Seriously, Will. You always put everybody else first. And, yeah, you might not be smooth about it, but it always comes from a good place. We all know that, including Charlie.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“So you’re not heading out to the Hamptons again, either?”

Will paused. “Why?”

“I was just wondering what was going on with the house.”

“I told you. Birdie is looking to sublet it.”

“No, your house,” George clarified. “If she’s out there dealing with Charlie’s, I assume she’s still trying to convince you to sell the Montauk house.”

He was right. Birdie was eager to put their family home in Montauk on the market. Years of less-than-subtle hints and over-the-top offers had punctuated almost every conversation with her. Now, with the renovations almost complete, he was sure her efforts would double.

Will sighed. “I’m heading out there next month, so if she mentions it, I’ll let you know.”

“Want some company?”

Will gave him a quizzical look. “You want to come out to Montauk?”

George shrugged. “I haven’t been out there in ages. And I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Will stared at him, waiting.

“And Emma is scheduled to work every weekend in August and I have nothing else to do.”

“I knew it,” Will said, shaking his head.

“Hey, do you want help with Birdie or not?”

Will frowned. Birdie flirted with George every time Will brought him to a family event. Luckily, George didn’t seem to mind. And, considering everything else on Will’s plate, a distracted Birdie was probably a good thing.

“Fine,” he said, already turning to continue down the sidewalk, leaving George behind. “I’ll have Jenna send you the details.”