11. Lizzy
Lizzy
“What happened?” I asked Trystan, happy for the distraction from Darcy’s horribly rude questions about my choice to write romance novels.
Darcy leaned over the kitchen island next to me, his dark jeans and navy cowl-neck sweater emphasizing his honed physique.
My whole body prickled at how good he looked, then with irritation at myself for thinking that and annoyance at his nearness.
I’d given him another chance outside and opened my mind to the possibility of him being a better guy than I’d originally thought.
But he’d insulted everything I was most proud of.
I shifted away from him.
“We got a phone call earlier,” Trystan said as he pulled early apples and pears from one of the boxes and set them in a bowl on the counter.
“Nala and her boyfriend had a big talk last night. He did a complete one-eighty, can’t live without her, proposed, and wants a million children.
They left at three a.m., apparently. A true happily ever after. ”
Darcy grunted cynically.
Typical.
I put my hand on my chest. “Yes, we saw this happening. I’m so happy for them.”
I appreciated how theirs wasn’t some fresh, new young love—it was two people who’d known each other for five years, and their happy ending was hard-fought. A second-chance story was harder to write, but one I wanted to tackle in the future. If I ever got my writing mojo back.
“Some men do realize what they’ve lost before it’s too late,” I said pointedly.
Trystan sighed dreamily, resting his chin on his hand. “I know. It gives me hope.”
“What about everyone else?” I asked.
Trystan shook himself. “Then Colin Vicar came down, ready to titillate our minds and sensibilities with his witticisms.”
I snickered. I would have enjoyed this conversation much more if Darcy hadn’t been here with his dour, gloomy presence.
“But instead,” Trystan went on, “he looked around, asked where Nala was, and when we told him she was gone, he said there was no point in him staying.” He raised his eyebrows. “Apparently, you, Jane, and Emma—chopped liver. Sorry, babe.”
I laughed, and even Darcy chuckled slightly. Although, maybe because he agreed I was chopped liver.
“But what about that young woman… Shoot, I never learned her name?” I asked. “She was attached to that guy as soon as they arrived.”
“Jacqueline. His name was Paxton. Yeah, their nicknames were Jax and Pax.” He grinned at us, and I gave him a goofy smile. “It was meant to be. I caught them sneaking out first thing this morning. They said to give you all their regards. Our work there is done. Sweet kids.”
They were sweet, and it made me smile they’d found each other quickly…
or maybe they both got involved easily. If so, how lovely to be open and trusting and hopeful.
In contrast, I must have been a decade older, and I’d become wary about getting close to a man after what I’d been through.
Their story struck a match in the darkness of my imagination, though.
Then fizzled into smoke.
A love story like Jax and Pax’s didn’t have the angsty ups and downs to make a novel.
Trystan gave Darcy and me a good hard look.
“And then there were six. Anyway, grab more coffee and let me know if you’d like a cooked breakfast, but you have to preserve your appetites. You’re all paired up to make brunch. I’m texting everyone to join us now.”
This was something I was interested in. The prize for the best brunch, to be adjudicated by three of the crew, was a romantic afternoon.
It might get me away from Darcy too. Although…
gulp…I could be paired with him. Either way, this special event had been organized by the production company, and they’d said they’d used their influence to come up with four hours that would be different from the usual fare.
Their unique activities could yield some ideas for my next book.
Wills and Jane appeared together, and I wondered if they’d texted each other from their rooms. They grabbed coffee and slid into the banquette, whisper-talking and giggling.
Emma burst in, still dressed in her pink silk pajamas, yawning and complaining about the early hour.
Knightley, who looked as though he’d been up for hours, bustled in the front door with the dogs, and Oodles ran up to me, while Max wagged his tail at Darcy.
After some greeting, the dogs wandered off to the fireplace, where Knightley had joined Emma, squabbling over whether more logs were needed.
Next through the door came Simon the director and Harry the cameraman.
Simon murmured something to Harry, who scanned the group slowly, then focused on Trystan.
Simon padded out the door, seeming satisfied.
“Okay, guys.” Trystan clapped to get our attention. “The brunch groups are as follows. Starters—Emma and Knightley. Main—Darcy and Lizzy. Pudding—Wills and Jane.”
“Oh shit.” Bloody Darcy, as I’d worried. Not ideal when I had to win this afternoon excursion. I clapped a hand over my mouth. Even if he was rude, I didn’t have to stoop to his level. Still, I couldn’t hide my dismay.
Emma looked as annoyed as me and argued immediately with Knightley about what they should make. Over on the banquette, Wills was grinning at Jane. She inclined her head diffidently, but I could tell she was delighted too.
I had to uncurl my lip as I checked Darcy’s reaction. He was grimacing. He looked as appalled as me, which irrationally made me feel even angrier, even though I was the one who’d made it clear I was pissed off first.
“You have ninety minutes to prepare lunch,” Trystan said.
“Oh shit. It’ll take me that long to shower and change,” Emma said.
“What about a reasonable nine minutes instead?” Knightley said, and Emma made a face at him.
“Come and see me,” Trystan said. “I should have most ingredients.”
I grabbed another coffee to steel myself for the next couple of hours with him.
I considered all the recipes I knew that would bridge breakfast and lunch.
Jane and Wills were making dessert, so we couldn’t opt for something sweet like pancakes or French toast. It had to be something savory.
Knightley had collected the eggs, blue and green and brown, sitting prettily in an old bowl, so omelets, though unoriginal, made the most sense.
We had a hope of winning but only if I took charge.
Darcy needed to follow my lead. I couldn’t imagine he’d spent much time cooking.
Darcy gave me a short nod. “Okay, let’s head to the store.”
Was there no end to his rudeness? Bossing me around like I was his PA. Actually, I hoped he didn’t speak to his PA like that.
“We don’t have time for the store. Lunch is in ninety minutes.”
Jane and Wills were already in the kitchen, and Trystan was showing them seasonal fruits. If I knew Jane, she’d opt for something incredibly simple. She was into fresh ingredients and easy meals you could teach to eight-year-olds, which she did at school.
“Trystan says he has most ingredients we’ll need,” I said. The camera drew closer to us.
Cupping my elbow, Darcy drew me into a corner. I was so taken aback I let him lead me over. Was he trying to get away from the camera?
He showed me his phone. “This is an old family recipe. Tried and true. We call it Chicken Wainwright. It’s unbelievable.”
Calling a recipe after your family. Was that endearing or…
pretentious? I looked down at the recipe.
Pretentious. This was not eggy bread with sugar sprinkles.
“Pastry with a complicated chicken mix inside that includes anchovies and truffles. My head is spinning.” I peered closer.
“And something called heart nuts. So many ingredients and so many instructions.”
He harrumphed impatiently. “How badly do you want to win?” he challenged me.
I narrowed my eyes at his tone.
“Sorry,” he murmured. This time, his voice was almost apologetic. “Do you want to win?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
The question didn’t sound like a challenge—it felt like he genuinely wanted to know.
“Because from the description, it seems as if someone at the production company has done a lot of research to curate an unusual romantic escape, probably using unlimited funds because this is TV, which adds up to an afternoon I couldn’t afford to reproduce myself.
All to say, this might be the inspiration for my next book. ”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I see. That makes sense.”
“What about you? Why do you want the prize? Why are you so keen to spend four hours with me?”
He did a double take.