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

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Tonight would be an exercise in self-restraint. Or masochism. Will hadn’t decided which.

The Hunsford Country Club was a hulking structure that echoed the formality of an English estate except for its shingled exterior. It sat within view of the ocean, flanked by a manicured golf course on one side and sand dunes on the other. Normally, when Will was wrangled into joining his aunt for dinner here, he took solace in the fact that the dining room faced the Atlantic. He could claim a seat that faced the large windows and stare out at the waves while Birdie dominated the conversation for the next two hours.

But that wouldn’t work tonight. Because the only person who could possibly distract him from that view had just pulled into the parking lot.

“Is that her?” his aunt asked, somehow infusing her voice with both disappointment and surprise from where she stood on the club’s threshold, glaring at Lizzy’s rusted Chevy pickup.

Will nodded.

“Let’s get seated,” George said, already guiding Birdie inside. “I’m sure Will can show Lizzy to the table. Right, Will?”

Will glared at him as George smiled and disappeared through the front doors.

Lizzy Bennet’s old truck rattled to a stop at the valet podium, its engine dying with a groan. The door creaked open and she stepped out, handing her keys to the valet with a smile. It dropped from her lips as soon as she saw Will waiting for her at the door.

He had half expected her to blow them off. It was one thing to test him in the foyer of Charlie’s house, where it felt like battle lines had been drawn directly into the marble floor. But it was another to spend an evening at a country club full of blue bloods on the beach. Yet here she was, hair down and walking toward him in a denim skirt that was frayed along her thighs, a pair of combat boots, and a tight green top that revealed the soft dip of where her collarbones met.

So, it would be self-restraint, then.

She stopped a few feet in front of him. Her head tilted to the side, like she needed to examine him from a different angle. It caused a few strands of red hair to drift across her cheek.

“Are you waiting for me?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the polite thing to do.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding as if this thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I thought you might be running interference.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“That you’re here to convince me not to go in.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I fully intend on revealing all your worst habits.”

“Such as?”

She gave him a tight smile. “We’ll start with your sparkling personality and just go from there.”

He stared down at her. She looked gorgeous right now, but not in any way that was familiar. Elizabeth Bennet was an objectively beautiful woman, there was no denying that, but her confidence was what truly set her apart. It didn’t rely on how she looked or what she wore; it was a surety that made everything else superfluous.

“I am not afraid of you,” he finally replied.

He didn’t mean for the words to come out so low, so suggestive, but her dark eyes still flared. Then they narrowed on him, like she had caught herself and a retort was already taking form on her tongue. A hot spike hit his pulse in anticipation.

Birdie’s voice cut through the air behind him. “Will, sweetheart, what’s taking you so long? Our reservation is for eight .”

He glanced over his shoulder to see his aunt standing in the club’s threshold, tapping a finger against her wrist before disappearing inside again.

“Don’t worry,” Lizzy said, her voice suddenly low and husky as she walked ahead toward the door. “My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”

His jaw clenched. Shit .

The main lobby of the club led straight to the dining room just beyond. The ma?tre d’ led them through the half-empty space, serpentining his way around the other patrons, to their usual spot by the window. Birdie and George were already seated at the table his aunt always reserved, mainly because it offered the best view of both the water and the rest of the dining room.

Birdie was seated beside George, leaving the two chairs opposite free. George stood as they arrived, and Will half expected him to offer Lizzy his seat. She would probably take it, too, as it would be the furthest she could get from Will without moving to an entirely different table. Before she could consider it, Will pulled out the chair beside his, and nodded to her. She stared at him for a moment, then, to his surprise, she took it.

“Yes, perfect. Elizabeth, you sit there, and Will, you sit across from me,” Birdie said, snapping her fingers at her nephew.

Lizzy’s arm brushed against Will’s as she sat. He tried to ignore it as he took his seat beside her and picked up his menu. He didn’t tear his eyes away from it until the waiter appeared, listing the specials while Will pretended to listen. Then he vaguely remembered ordering a beer. Lizzy might have ordered one, too, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that the smell of vanilla lingered in the air between them, so potent he wanted to lean toward her, find out if it was the scent of her hair or her skin.

“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” Birdie said, leaning across the table to give Lizzy an exaggerated frown. “Will really should have told you about the dress code. I hope you’re not too uncomfortable. No one will mind about the denim, I promise.”

Lizzy’s back was straight as she placed her napkin on her lap. Then Will watched a small, audacious smile curl up the corners of her full lips. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He looked away, clearing his throat.

“So how do you two know each other again?” George asked.

“That’s a good question,” Lizzy said. Her voice was light, like a breath, but there was a rough edge to it. Always that rough edge. Like its softness had been worn down by salt water. “Will’s friend Charlie is dating my sister. Or was dating her. I’m having trouble keeping track. Do you have any insight on that, Will?”

She turned to him, her dark eyes locked on his, all fire and rage. Shit . He didn’t have an answer; he never thought he would be in a position where he’d have to provide one.

“Oh, I just adore Charlie,” Birdie crooned, oblivious. “He is such a darling. You three were just inseparable when you were at Columbia.”

Lizzy’s sharp smile fell.

“And his sister Annabelle, what a powerhouse. And such exceptional taste. I showed her that house and she signed the lease in twenty minutes. She just knew,” Birdie continued. “It’s too bad they had to leave the Hamptons early. How is Charlie doing, by the way?”

Lizzy’s eyes widened. Will could almost feel her questions forming as he answered, “Fine.”

“That’s good. I worry about him.” Birdie sighed dramatically. “Maybe he should join his sisters in Palm Springs. I hear that’s where Annabelle took their other sister to help her get over that nasty divorce.”

Lizzy leaned forward. “Why would Charlie—”

“Annabelle reminds me a lot of myself, you know,” Birdie interrupted, as if she hadn’t heard Lizzy at all. “I had just started Carrington Realty all on my own, you see, and within a year I had been on the cover of Realtor Magazine and done an interview on CNBC. I was almost a judge on Shark Tank ! I had to turn them down, of course. My business was my top priority and it required just so much of my attention.”

The waiter returned with their drinks, and Will took a deep sip of his beer. It was going to be a long night.

“Lizzy, you said your last name was Bennet, right? Do you have a sister named Jane?” George asked. He was barely biting back a smile that told Will his friend knew exactly what he was doing.

Lizzy blinked, like she was as surprised by him remembering her surname as she was about him knowing about her sister. “Yes. My older sister.”

George smiled warmly. “How many sisters do you have?”

“Four.”

“Lucky you. I’m stuck with just one brother.”

Lizzy laughed. The sound was soft and warm, and Will hated the stab of jealousy that hit his chest at not being its recipient.

“Will is an only child,” Birdie interjected, her expression suddenly somber. “Which is why I’m so glad you boys all found one another. Especially after… well… you know what happened. Suffice to say, it was tragic.”

Will tensed as an uncomfortable hush fell over the table. He barely talked about his parents’ deaths with anyone, and he hated how Birdie would bring it up, alluding to it but never giving it any proper attention.

“You three have always looked out for one another,” she said, patting George’s hand. “There’s such value in friendships that stand the test of time. I like to think I would have stayed in touch with all my college girlfriends, but it’s just not the same for professional women. There are so many demands on us. Not that I’m complaining, of course. It’s such a blessing to be able to do what I do, but I have to admit,” she continued, turning to Lizzy, “I’m jealous of you being able to just work at your family bakery and never having to think about it.”

Beside him, Lizzy’s body went tense. Birdie had hit a nerve, but before he could discover what it was, George interceded.

“Did you always want to be part of the family’s business?” he asked.

Lizzy’s attention moved to him. He smiled at her encouragingly. Will took a deep sip of his beer.

“No,” she replied. “I’ve worked there since I was little, but I went to school to be a journalist. I wanted to travel and cover foreign affairs.”

Will paused. “A journalist?”

Her forehead furrowed when she noticed his expression. “Is that surprising?”

“No. I just had no idea you had…”

“Aspirations?” she said, her tone biting.

Will opened his mouth to reply, to challenge her assumption, but then his aunt was speaking again.

“Oh, I always fancied myself a bit of a writer. You should see my bio on my website. I even came up with our slogan, you know. ‘Carrington Realty—we care a ton.’ Catchy, right?”

Birdie continued with her monologue as the waiter reappeared and took their food order. Once he left, and Will had requested one of the specials he was sure he wouldn’t touch, the conversation flowed on. Birdie dominated it as always, but George was a good foil, asking questions about her business and her latest closings. Will tried to listen, but Lizzy’s proximity occupied too much of his attention. Even after the food arrived and their meal was finished, he couldn’t recall what he had eaten.

Once their plates were cleared, Birdie turned a smug grin to George.

“So, what do you think of Charlie’s house, George? It’s stunning, isn’t it? And Lily Pond Lane is very desirable.”

“It is,” George answered, taking a sip of his wine. He was nothing if not polite, but Will could see how carefully his friend was choosing his words.

Birdie, on the other hand, didn’t notice. “I knew you’d love it. It’s the perfect Hamptons summer house.”

“It’s too bad the summer is almost over,” George replied diplomatically.

She waved him off. “Oh, that doesn’t matter. It’s the kind of place you can show off year-round, maybe do some holiday entertaining. I really think you and your girlfriend would be extremely happy there.”

George nodded even as he said, “When I’m in the market, I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Who knows if it will be available then?” Birdie sighed. “It’s one of the most exclusive addresses in the Hamptons. A house like that doesn’t stay on the market for long, George.”

“It might, though,” Lizzy said.

Birdie’s head whipped around to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Oh.” Lizzy looked between her and George, as if she was surprised anyone had heard her. “It’s just that Marv’s Lament has been on the market for a while.”

“Marv’s Lament?” Birdie asked, her lip almost curling.

“Charlie’s house. Or, former house. What’s going on with that, exactly?”

Birdie waved off the question with her red nails. “The only reason it hasn’t found a new occupant is because the market has been in flux. It’s set to hit its stride in the next few months.” Then she turned to Will. “Speaking of which, we have to talk about the Montauk house before you go. I’m getting calls, so I need you to let me know when we’re putting it on the market.”

Lizzy’s attention snapped to Will.

“You have a house in Montauk?” she asked.

He nodded once. Then he adjusted his sleeve, avoiding her eyes.

George turned to Will, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t think you were actually going to sell that place.”

“It only makes sense,” Birdie said, clasping her hands together so her red nails overlapped one another. “That house is gorgeous, but when does Will have time to go out there? And there’s just so much land, it deserves to be developed so other people can enjoy it, too. Right off the cliffs at the very end of the island. Just beautiful!”

She sighed, like the listing was already written in her mind. Then Will remembered that it probably was.

That’s when he noticed that Lizzy’s gaze was still on him.

He was having a hard time reading her expression. There had been doubt there just a few moments ago, but now it almost seemed like she was surprised. As if the idea of him having any connection out east was beyond her comprehension.

“If you have a place in Montauk, why were you always at Charlie’s?” she finally asked.

“My house out there was being renovated.” He didn’t want to give his aunt more of an opening to discuss it, but as Birdie drummed her fingernails on the white tablecloth, he knew it was already too late.

“It cost an absolute fortune, too,” Birdie said, as if she was footing the bill. “I will never understand why you insisted on doing all that—the land sells itself! Homes out there are as rare as hen’s teeth and go for top dollar with or without a new roof. In fact, I had an agent who had a listing nearby last summer that was half the size and it went for over fifteen million dollars.”

“That is… a lot of money,” Lizzy said.

Will took another sip of his beer.

“Exactly,” Birdie said with a nod. “It’s the smart choice.”

A moment, then Lizzy looked over at Will.

“Do you want to sell it?” she asked.

The question stopped him. Her dark eyes were narrowed, but they had lost the fire that had threatened to scorch him earlier. She was studying him, like his expression might give away more than any possible answer.

No one had asked him that. Not since the topic came up shortly after his parents’ deaths five years ago. There had been dozens of other questions: What are you going to do with Montauk? Did your father really leave it just to you? And then the inevitable pressure from Birdie herself, wanting to know his plans, persuading him that it was too much of a burden for him to maintain on his own. But the question of whether he actually wanted to sell had never come up.

Not until right now.

“Of course he wants to,” Birdie replied with a plastic smile. “It’s time to let it go. Yes, the property is lovely, but can you imagine a five-star resort out there?” She sighed again, then turned to Lizzy. “I’m sure you understand. As a native Hamptonite.”

Lizzy’s nose scrunched up slightly, as if the term left a bad smell in its wake.

Birdie’s smile faltered. “Am I wrong?”

“Sorry,” Lizzy said. “I just don’t know anyone out here who calls themselves a Hamptonite.”

“Oh, is Hamptonian the correct term?” Birdy said, laughing again. “Or Hamptoner?”

“We just don’t really call it the Hamptons.”

“But it’s where you live.” Birdy said it slowly, as if Lizzy needed help understanding.

Lizzy smiled at her. Will could tell it was forced, as if she was struggling to maintain her patience.

“No. The Hamptons is where you visit. The rest of us live on Long Island.”

Birdie’s lips pursed. “I appreciate your perspective, Elizabeth, but let me assure you, as a professional who has made a name for herself in real estate, you live in the Hamptons. Now, you might not be in a financial position to enjoy all that it entails, but that could change with just a bit of hard work and ambition.”

Silence. Will’s eyes narrowed on his aunt. Birdie Carrington presented herself as an aging socialite so perfectly—all cotton sweaters and starched shirts—that he forgot how her advice sometimes barely concealed her venom.

George looked equally as angry, though it was balanced with a concerned look to Lizzy.

Will leaned forward, working to keep his tone measured. “Birdie, that was—”

“Very true,” Lizzy said, interrupting him. Then she removed the napkin from her lap and stood up. “It’s getting late and I have to work in the morning, so I hope you’ll excuse me.”

She was already turning away when Will followed suit. “I’ll walk you out.”

They were silent as they made their way out of the dining room, through the lobby to the club’s front doors. The sound of the ocean rolling nearby welcomed them when they emerged outside, and crickets filled the silence as they waited for the valet to get her truck.

It was another long moment before he stole a glance at her face. The light from the streetlamps filtered down through the trees, and the shadows of the branches danced across her skin. Her tight expression.

“I apologize for my aunt,” he finally said. “She shouldn’t have said that.”

“Said what, exactly?”

“About why you work at the bakery. Your ambition. All of it.”

“She wasn’t exactly wrong.”

He frowned. “Of course she was.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “And how would you know that?”

“Because you don’t decide to be a foreign affairs journalist just so you can stay in one place forever.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Then she turned away, watching as her truck appeared from the parking lot, driving slowly toward them.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

His brow furrowed. “Why the hell not?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “Just a mess. Remember?”

Shit. He had almost forgotten that text he sent to Charlie. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see that and—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Her voice sounded tired, and there was an unconvincing smile now on her lips.

“Yes. I do.”

He wanted to say more, but before he could find the words, the valet pulled up with her truck and handed her the keys. She climbed into the driver’s seat. “Have a good night, Will. And if you see Charlie, tell him my sister says hi.”

Then she slammed the door shut.

She didn’t look at Will as she started the ignition, and it was too dark to see if she stole a glance in her rearview mirror as she disappeared down the long drive toward the road. But he still watched her go, staring into the darkness until the red glow of her taillights disappeared.

“Well, that was brutal,” George’s deep voice interrupted a moment later. Will turned just as his friend sauntered out the club’s front doors, his hands in his pockets. “Where’s your date?”

Will glowered at him. “She’s not my date.”

This detail didn’t seem to derail George’s line of inquiry; he simply waited for Will to answer.

Will sighed, then nodded to the long drive. “She just left.”

George nodded. “Birdie is inside chatting with some client she ran into, but said she’d be out soon.”

Will didn’t reply, just returned his gaze to where Lizzy’s car had faded into the darkness.

George walked forward and stopped at Will’s side. “So what do you want to do?”

Will knew what he meant. They had only planned to stay out here through today. A helicopter was already waiting at the airport to take them back to the city.

“Let me go talk to Birdie and we can head out,” Will finally said.

“You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

George’s head cocked to the side, as if he was mulling something over. “Remember when I escaped to LA last year to spearhead the Wentworth deal?”

Will nodded.

“You told me I should go, but only if it was about the deal. If I was using it as an excuse to run away from my problems—”

“You mean Emma,” Will inserted.

George ignored the footnote as he continued, “—then work was only going to be a distraction. And you were right. I needed to admit my feelings for her and stop running away.”

“Your point?”

“No point. Just an observation,” George said with a self-satisfied sigh as he turned to stare at the same spot in the distance that had held Will’s attention a moment before.

Will glared at him. “I liked you better when you weren’t so smug.”

George laughed.

Another minute passed before Will cleared his throat. “You go ahead. I think I’m going to stick around for another day or two. Check on a couple of things out in Montauk.”

“Right. Makes sense,” George said as he pulled out the valet ticket from his pocket. “I guess I’ll see you back in the city, then.” Then he threw his friend another smile. “And tell Lizzy I said hello.”