Chapter 15
One week after Thanksgiving
“Lizzy?”
I blinked.
“Lizzy?” It was said louder this time, making me startle.
“Sorry?”
“Where were you?” asked Gracie, who was laughing. “I started discussing my ideas for a Christmas promo, and you completely zoned out.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m interested. I am, but you do know that I trust you, don’t you?”
The younger woman sat up a bit straighter. “You do?”
With a laugh, I sat up at my desk. Gracie had come to the house to update me on what she was working on. She liked to do it, even though I’d never told her she had to. “You’ve run a bunch of campaigns and made posts to update our customers and bring them into the store for three years now. I believe you started your sophomore year at NYU. Richard Fitzwilliam, the head of marketing at Pemberley Books would steal you out from under me if I was willing to tell him how to get in touch, which I’m not. He raved on Thanksgiving about your ideas.”
“He did?” Gracie’s cheeks turned pink.
I pointed at her. “Don’t get any ideas!”
She held up her hands, palms out. “Hey, I’m not interested in Pemberley Books. This has been a family to me since I came to the city. I love it here. Nothing they could offer would induce me to leave.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “Now, about that office. Come with me.” I waved her to follow me to the elevator. We took it down a floor where I led her off and through a locked door to the left. “When we built the offices on this floor, we didn’t use the entire space. I’ve been trying to figure out where to put you when I was told this by my uncle’s former assistant, Mr. Stone. Turns out we have the skeletons of the remaining apartments on this floor that we’d never renovated.
“The door was installed to keep people from entering.” The hallway wasn’t long but creepy since it needed work and the window at the end gave an eerie glow to the worn wooden floor.
“I asked that they finish the corridor. The remaining apartments will be gutted, and more offices and a new larger conference room will be put in. Our management team has never been big, but with the addition of the online store last year, we’ve filled the existing offices we already had. We’ll also have a few changes on the other side to maximize our space.”
When I opened the door on the first apartment to the right, I let Gracie walk in ahead of me. “I’ve given instructions that this entire apartment be renovated with a large gathering space in the living room here for you to meet with management or anyone we might hire to join your team. The fireplaces will be inspected and repaired if needed, the bathroom will be updated. I thought it might be helpful since you sometimes change to film different content. The kitchen will be taken out, but you’ll have a cabinet installed for a coffee station and a mini-fridge. If you have meetings or an author you’re entertaining before a promotion, I’d like you to have an office that stuns. What do you think?”
She gave an incredulous bark. “Lizzy, it’s more than I need.”
I grinned at her. “Then, I’d say it’s perfect.”
Gracie had begun greeting our guest authors for their events, and while she typically brought them to the conference room until they were announced, I wanted her to have a more comfortable space for her visitors. We were smaller than the big retailers, but we’d have style and a personal touch they lacked.
Besides, Gracie had always been modest. I’d no doubt she’d use the space, or I wouldn’t have planned it that way. She brought in too much business for her to get a tiny corner office with no amenities or view. When she’d asked to do the social media, we’d needed someone, and she swore she’d build our following. She’d more than delivered. We’d given her raises over the years, but this recognition was long overdue as far as I was concerned.
“Hello?”
I frowned and backed out of the doorway. “Richard?”
“Ah, there you are.” He stepped from the vestibule of sorts into the hallway and scanned his surroundings. “Wow, this building is huge on the inside.” He looked at Gracie then back at me.
“It’s still okay if I work in the conference room for now, isn’t it?” asked Gracie.
“Of course. Gardiner Architecture will be calling you to discuss the plans and the design. The space has to fit what you need, and you should have a say in that.”
She glanced between Richard and me.
With a chuckle, he extended his hand. “Hi, Gracie, I recognize you from Novel Books’ social media, of course. I’m Richard Fitzwilliam, head of marketing at Pemberley Books. I’m envious Lizzy discovered you before I could. You do amazing work.”
Gracie accepted his handshake. “Thank you.” She looked to me. “I’ll just be getting back to work.”
“Thanks, Gracie,” I said, shifting to let her by.
Richard glanced around. “She doesn’t have her own office yet?”
“She was hired not long after she moved to the city for college. When she’d asked the store management about her taking over the social media, they were hesitant. I didn’t see what it could hurt so I convinced my uncle. We’d all chipped in as best we could for both businesses, but none of us had the time to devote to it full-time. She’s managed both Novel Books and the Beanery’s accounts and has done a brilliant job.”
“I agree.”
“If you so much as make her an offer. . .”
He held up his hands. “Relax! That’s not why I’m here. I’d need to fire or find somewhere else for someone on my team, anyway. I have no grounds to do that.”
“Then why are you here?” I didn’t mean to be abrupt, but him showing up here, of all places, had my hackles raised.
With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you mind if we go somewhere to talk? I don’t want to be overheard.”
I gestured for him to follow. We entered the elevator, and I scanned my card. “Nothing’s wrong with Gigi, is there?”
He shook his head. “No, she’s good. I saw her in the café when I came in. I went there first looking for you.”
“How did you find me?” It was odd that he just showed up in our offices without an escort.
“One of the bookstore employees brought me up. When you said my name, he returned to the front counter.”
When we stepped off the elevator to my apartment, Richard stopped on the marble floor and gawked. “I didn’t even know this was up here. How big is this place?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. My uncle had it all knocked out and renovated for him. It’s still strange that it’s mine now.”
“I’m sorry,” said Richard. “You speak of him like you were close.”
“He was more my father than my own ever tried to be.” I led Richard into the library. “Would you like some water? I also have sodas or whatever you’d like.”
Richard was still looking around, his head noticeably scanning from ceiling to floor. He paused at the tree near the window. “How many Christmas trees do you have?”
“The one in the foyer has been a tradition for as long as I can remember. Mrs. Hill insisted my uncle needed a family tree in here since this is where he spent most of his time.” I kind of liked having one in here. If I ever had a family, I could see putting another in the living room too, but at the moment, just the two.
“Did you want that drink?”
He startled. “Oh, sorry. Coffee would be great.”
I pulled out my phone to text Mrs. Hill. “Anything specific? Latte? Your cousin likes peaberry.”
Richard shook his head. “I’m not a fan of peaberry. If I can’t stand a spoon in it, it’s not coffee.”
“Espresso it is then,” I said with a laugh.
“That’ll work.”
I gestured for him to sit. “So, what is it you want to discuss?”
“Darcy’s been acting odd for the last week. It started when he returned to the penthouse on Black Friday. Char had mentioned he took you home on Thanksgiving and that he’d agreed to stay and keep an eye on you for the night. He’d texted Gigi that morning to let her know he wouldn’t be home until later, but when he did return, he looked like he’d been drug home by a car.”
“Someone hit him?” I squeaked.
“No, he just looked haggard. He went into his study, and we didn’t see him again that evening. Mrs. R. mentioned he’d finished the bottle of Scotch he keeps in there. She believed it was half-full, so we’re sure he was drunk when he went to bed.”
I winced. That was a lot of alcohol for one man, even if he was over six feet.
“Gigi and I are worried about him. It’s just so unlike him. Do you know anything that could’ve happened?”
Mrs. Hill hurried in and set down Richard’s espresso on the side table. “Here you are.”
“Thank you,” he said.
My palms sweated as I rubbed one hand up and down the leg of my jeans. How was I to explain this? “William did bring me home. He slept in a chair in my room from what Mrs. Hill told me. That morning, I was sick, so he checked on the bakery for me. He was down there all day, helping Char with filling displays and wiping down counters and tables.”
Richard’s head jolted forward and a bit to the side. “I’m sorry, but did you just say that my cousin engaged in manual labor?” He didn’t wait for the answer before he gave a low chuckle. “I would’ve paid a lot of money to witness that.”
“Char said William saved them. We were busier this year than we’ve ever been, and while we had staffed heavily, we needed a couple more people to keep supplies available and to clean up. Gracie was running flash sales on social media all day. It brought a lot of people into the café for lunch as well as for some baked goods.”
Richard shook his head. “He’s never worked in a coffee shop or bakery before. I’ve never known him not to put his all into something, but it still would’ve been amusing to see my cousin refilling pastry displays.”
I inhaled deeply and released it. “When he returned, I was upset he never texted me or returned to tell me what was happening. He was afraid I’d go down and try to help; so was Char for that matter. We were discussing what happened at the café when all of a sudden, he asked me out.”
Richard hit the arm of the sofa with the bottom of his closed fist. “I knew he had a thing for you! Gi even noticed his expression while he watched you. She was grossed out by it to tell the truth.”
My chin jerked back. “Why would she be grossed out?”
Richard tilted his head. “Would you want to see desire on your brother’s face?”
I jolted from my chair. “Char said that was how he looked at me too, but I never saw it. How did everyone realize that but me?”
“Maybe you didn’t want to see it,” said Richard.
“First Char and now you’re lecturing me on it.”
He put up both hands, palms out. “Hey, I’m not lecturing. The first time I met you was at Gi’s party, but since Darce invited you that night, I’d say the two of you’d met before.”
“We met at the gala for the Starry Night Foundation. It was the first one I’d attended without my uncle. I was exiting the ladies’ room when he ran into me from behind. My foot slipped off my heel and the strap broke.” I laughed. “He was appalled that I took them off, threw them in the trash, and walked around barefoot. My gown was floor length, it’s not like anyone knew.”
Richard chuckled and shook his head. “I can imagine his expression. He can be a germaphobe. Mrs. R. has commented that his bathroom is never dirty. She still scrubs it a couple of times a week, but he cleans up after himself. He takes his shoes off in the foyer then carries them upstairs. He doesn’t like tracking in the dirt from the street. Anyway, I’m surprised there isn’t more to the story.”
“Oh, I wasn’t done. He offered to buy me a drink to make up for the shoes. I’d decided to be a little ornery, so I’d ordered Aberlour neat—a double.”
Richard barked out another laugh. “Another thing he doesn’t see much. A woman who isn’t afraid to challenge him.”
“To be fair, I’d no idea who he was. I knew Pemberley Books wanted to purchase Novel Books, but we weren’t for sale, so that was that. I didn’t see a need to look up the CEO to see who wanted to buy us out. My uncle had offers as well and had never taken them either. He also had a sale proposal from another large store bookseller. He refused them too. In his journals, he said that he’d always intended to leave Novel Books to me. Since I had no intention of giving up my uncle’s legacy, who William Darcy was didn’t matter.
“That night, at the gala, we were having a friendly enough time together until Will was summoned by your aunt. He promised to return, but before he did, that guy Bingley and my sister Jane approached him.”
Richard almost sneered. “Bingley has rubbed me the wrong way for years.”
“Yes, well, then he’ll probably get along fantastically with Jane. When they started the conversation, my sister informed Will who I was, and he basically said that he hadn’t any idea that it was me and it wasn’t like I was beautiful.”
Richard’s eyes almost bulged from their sockets. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Not in the slightest.”
“So when he asked you out. . .”
“I didn’t know what he’d been doing all day and my impression of him was not the greatest. What occurred at the gala as well as Wickham and other little things continued to fuel my dislike of him. So, when he asked me out, I told him where he could shove his offer for dinner.”
Richard exhaled and took a sip of espresso, obviously thinking about what I’d said. “He mentioned you didn’t like how he handled the situation with Wickham.”
“Gigi is sweet and trusting. Those are lovely qualities to have except she doesn’t always see people’s motives. A couple of people who came with her group over the past year have seemed more ingratiating than trying to be a true friend. I’ll admit that they never last long, but I’ve also noticed that some of her friends will give the newcomer a hard time. Two of her friends in particular stick out and almost behaved as though they were Gigi’s protectors, although I haven’t seen them in the past couple of months.”
Richard sighed. “Those two were an argument I’d had with my overprotective cousin. They were bodyguards. They went to classes with her—somehow Darce had arranged for Julliard to let them attend—and they ensured they became friends with her.”
“They looked her age.” They couldn’t have been a day over twenty.
“I know. They were selected by the agency because of that. I felt it was wrong to let her believe they were friends when they were being paid to be there. One said that they were transferring to another school, and the other told her she had to leave to help a sick grandmother. So, you aren’t off that Darce can overstep. He also needs someone who isn’t afraid to tell him where he’s screwed up. What I have to say doesn’t always get through his thick skull.”
“Are you here to talk me into giving him a chance?” I regretted being so harsh with Will, but I hadn’t decided if I regretted turning him down. Yes, I was attracted to him, and when we talked at the gala, he was charming and not the stiff, staring man I’d come to know. Was that man at the gala an aberration or was he the real Will? The problem was I had no way of knowing.
Richard shook his head. “My uncle and aunt were wonderful people. Darce is one of the most loyal people I know.”
“You make him sound like a dog.”
With a bark of a laugh, Richard shook his head again. “I do, don’t I? Look. You have to make up your mind about whether Darce is right for you. I understand if you feel he’s not. It’s just that I feel like you’d be good for him.”
Richard stood with his brow furrowed. “I need to get back to the office. But just so you’re aware; Darce did call off any and all research and development projects for the acquisition of Novel Books.”
My insides leaped as I rose. “When did he do that?”
“I believe sometime between Gi’s birthday and Thanksgiving. I don’t know for sure, but Bingley wasn’t happy. He lives for the kill, and Darce cut him off at the knees.” As we walked back out to the elevator, Richard glanced at me over his shoulder. “Are you planning to attend the Pemberley Yule Ball? We’re raising money for reading programs in underprivileged areas.”
I drew my eyebrows together. “I don’t remember my uncle ever attending that one.”
“As I recall,” said Richard. “He did when my uncle was alive. The two of them had a mutual respect and dare I say, friendship. Uncle George had made your uncle offers for the store, but your uncle would turn him down with a laugh. I think it was more of a game between them. Darce didn’t understand the nature between them when he took over. He treated it more like any other acquisition.
“I do hope you’ll come. I’ll have my assistant send you an invitation.”
I lifted one of my brows. “You mean I don’t have to pay for the ticket?”
He chuckled. “You can be a guest of Pemberley Books. We’ll just expect a hefty donation at the event.”
I grinned. “I’ve got most of the business’s money earmarked for projects at the moment, but I’ll check into our budget for charities and see what I can scrounge up.”
He smiled back. “You do that.”