42. Darcy
Darcy
Iclosed the doors behind Tabitha and Lizzy. No time to lose. I hurried back to my office. I couldn’t have Lizzy here for the call I needed to make. There was only one person I knew who could fight for Jane. No—fix this for her. And calling that person would take all my fortitude.
Wills had called and texted numerous times.
Maybe Jane had told him already? I ignored his calls.
Cold, but that was the way I solved problems. I had to act now.
Too tense to sit, I stood at my desk and searched for a particular London law firm.
I had only one chance of helping Jane, besides kneecapping that vile ex-boyfriend of hers.
The hardest thing I’d ever have to do.
But the sight of Lizzy’s distraught face flashed into my mind. If I could do anything to alleviate her pain, solve this crisis, I would humiliate myself ten times over.
A year ago, I’d deleted both Seb’s and Sophia’s cell numbers, so I’d have to call Seb at work and go through his staff, who might put me in my place before I’d even spoken with him.
I checked his company website to make sure he was still working at the same law firm.
The photo of him on the partners’ page was charming and trustworthy, his golden hair slicked back, and his tanned, boyish face in his brazen, “I know I’m cheeky, but you love me for it” grin.
I called his office before I could back out.
“Could you ask Sebastian Seymour to call me back as soon as he can?” I asked his assistant. “It’s important. Darcy Wainwright.” Seb had my number, but I gave it again in case he’d deleted it too.
My ex-fiancée’s husband.
My ex-best friend.
In the months after I’d been left at the altar, I’d been unable to stop thinking about them.
Picturing them together had tormented me day and night, imagining them laughing at me, flying out on what should have been my honeymoon, eating together, sleeping together, moving in together back in London.
Eventually, I hadn’t allowed myself to think about them or how deceived and sad and angry I’d been.
Talking to Lizzy this week, I’d felt like I was exorcising them for the first time.
But now, faced with what I had to do, I couldn’t help the memories and questions and pain flooding back, dragging me into that same madness that had engulfed me for those months afterward.
Reliving the times the three of us had been together, questioning what they’d been thinking then, what they’d been doing behind my back, when it had started.
Their betrayal made a sick mockery of everything I thought I’d shared with each of them.
Stop.
Reliving those months before the wedding date wasn’t helping.
I couldn’t guess what had happened or when their affair had started.
After leaving the Maldives, they’d then shacked up together in London in his flat.
They were married within months. That was all the news I ever let myself hear about them.
My phone buzzed. Hoping and dreading who it might be, I pressed Answer.
“Darcy? It’s me, Sebastian.” His voice was wary but excited.
My heart rose at the sound of my old friend, an instinctive remnant from spending some great years together.
But how could this Seb sound like my old friend?
How could my spirits rise reflexively with a few words from him?
Losing Sophia ended up being for the best. Losing Seb had crushed my soul.
The realization hit me again, the way I’d felt waking up the morning after my wedding day. I’ve lost both of them.
The unfairness cracked my barely soldered-over heart.
I took a deep breath.
I wanted to smash him across the jaw for his betrayal. For having to lose him from my life. Push him to the ground, throw myself on him, and pummel him until his face bled. I wanted to rage in his face, call him all the worst things in the world, snarl and drool and spit like a mad dog.
“How could you deceive me like that? How could you lie to my face like that? You made a mockery of all our years of friendship. What the fuck do I do with those memories of us now? You made a fucking fool out of me. I was humiliated.”
But I would never let him have the satisfaction of seeing any of those emotions from me. I would be calm, slightly distanced. As polite as it took to get what I wanted from him. That would be my ultimate revenge. He was going to do something for me that no one else could.
“Sebastian, I have a favor to ask of you.” I struggled to keep my voice even.
“Hello, Sebby, me old mate, how have you been?” His fake-jolly voice had an edge. “Let’s get together for a pint and a bit of a chin-wag. Nah, instead he calls me out of the blue and asks for a bloody favor.”
What the…? Rage boiled my insides, making my skin burn. He’d run off with my fiancée—and now he was making me out to be the arsehole?
I would have given anything to slam one of those old phones onto its cradle to end this conversation. But Lizzy’s lovely face came to mind. Her sister felt like her life was over, and that meant Lizzy felt the same.
I took another deep breath. “Seb, I’m not the one who owes you anything,” I said, grinding my teeth together to control myself.
“I’m not the one who betrayed you, and that’s not why I called.
I have an issue that needs to be addressed as soon as possible.
And I know you’re the only person who could help me.
I’m willing to pay you, of course, however much it takes. ”
Even though Seb had gone out partying every night at university, he’d turned out to be a frighteningly good lawyer, going on to specialize in defamation.
He’d amassed stacks of high-profile cases with actors and politicians and businesspeople.
So, it was not true that I knew nothing about him.
It was impossible to avoid his career if you read the news on your phone, in the newspaper, or on TV.
Silence. I waited, my heart pounding.
“Okay. If nothing else, you’ve piqued my curiosity,” he said. “What is it?”
His voice was removed, but I’d expected that.
“A friend’s sister, Jane Bennet, is a famous former model, but now she’s a teacher at a country primary school.”
He grunted, like maybe he’d heard of her. “One ‘t’ in Bennet, right?”
“Yes.”
I could hear tapping from his end, like he was searching her on his computer.
I went on. “Her life is about to be completely upended by her former boyfriend, who sounds emotionally abusive. A photographer called George Wickham.” I spelled his name.
More tapping from his end. “When they were together, he asked her to help him out with an art series where he needed her to be nude. He told her the entire image was going to be blurry and she’d be completely unidentifiable, and so would the other models in the room. He got her to sign something.”
“Hmm,” he said.
I wanted to ask him what that sound meant. I could still hear him tapping on the other end. She’d signed something, and I knew the consequences, but maybe—
“I can see his contracts on his website,” he said. “Go on.”
“He sent her the images, and the bastard warned her he’s going to make them public if she doesn’t get back together with him.
In the images, she’s clearly visible, and it looks like she’s part of an orgy.
Somehow, he must have manipulated the photo.
At the time, the models were all standing apart.
She’s certain her school will fire her, and she doesn’t see how she’d be hired by another local school. ”
A pain shot through my gut at how Jane’s dilemma would affect Wills too. I would call him back right after this. I was certain now he was genuinely in love with her, and she had feelings for him. He was going to be devastated by how much pain she was in.
“Hmm.” He took a deep breath. “Does not sound good.”
Shit, that had been my initial reaction too. But Seb’s voice sounded like he was going into professional mode, which was a positive sign. Did that mean he was going to take this case on? I stayed quiet, tension racking my torso, allowing him to mull the situation over.
“Who is this friend of yours?” His voice was now bright with curiosity. “She must be wonderful indeed for you to pluck up the courage to pick up the phone and talk to your dear old friend Seb. You are sticking your neck out here.”
Oh shit. Typical Seb, finding the chink in my armor. But he’d always done it jokingly with me.
“Does it matter who she is to me?” My reply was sharper than I wanted.
“Oh, so I was right. She is precious to you. I’m astounded.”
Now he had something over me. Something else.
A quick search would reveal that Jane’s sister was Lizzy.
I hated that he would even think about Lizzy.
Lizzy was everything honest and loyal and lovely, and I loved how she spoke her mind.
My stomach roiled over how, during this conversation, she’d become mixed into the sordidness of my past with Seb.
“Would you do this for me? Please?” I asked tightly. I was using all my self-control to keep my temper.
He laughed. “Ah, it’s please now. God in heaven, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Darcy Wainwright utter that word. And it took the love of a good woman to pull that from him.”
A nasty pitch bit into his voice, one I hadn’t heard before. Maybe he’d always had that mean streak, but he’d never directed it against me. Maybe he had to have this edge to be so successful. Either way, I didn’t bother with an answer.
He gave an exasperated sigh. “All right,” he said, finally.
“You’ll take on the case?”
“I’ll take it on,” he replied dully.
“Oh, thank God.” A wave of relief washed over me.
We had hope. Even if Jane’s case was horribly weak, maybe a terse letter and a ferocious call from someone with Seb’s power and notoriety might strike fear into the heart of this Wickham arsehole and make him scurry back to whatever hole he’d come from, tail between his legs.
“Thank you, Seb.”
I gave him Jane’s number, but he said he needed to think this through and do some research first. “This is going to be more art than science.”
Not wanting to continue talking to Seb, I asked for his assistant’s details so I could pay his retainer.
He grunted impatiently. “Look, why don’t you save your money? I’ll tell you now—legally, I don’t think this Jane Bennet has a leg to stand on.”
I’d suspected that from the start, but still, I was betting this Wickham was a coward and didn’t have the funds to pay for a major court case—or the tenacity and guts.
“Promise me you’ll put all your efforts into this case, Seb. I know you can do this. I have complete faith in you.”
“Yes.” He laughed bitterly now. “You were the one who always thought I had something. Who believed in me. The only one who saw beneath the cavalier pisshead to a sharp brain and hidden talent.” He took a breath.
“You showed them, didn’t you, Darcy? You were right about me.
I wasn’t a pretty face and a few jokes. I was a winner after all. ”
That was not what I expected, for him to be so sad and bitter. I thought he’d be superficially contrite or sneer and laugh me out the door. But this was different, almost disturbing.
Finally, he said, “I do promise. I will put all my efforts into this.”
“Thank you, Seb.”
“And, Darcy?”
“Yes?”
His breathing sounded harsh at the other end of the line. “Fuck. It wasn’t worth it, Darcy.” His voice cracked. “I-I miss you. So much.”
Oh God. No. I couldn’t get into this. I didn’t want to anger him. I desperately wanted him to work on this case, but I couldn’t pretend I was open to digging up our dead friendship.
Instead, I didn’t answer.
He coughed out a bitter laugh. “Oh yes—how could I forget?” he drawled. “Lose my trust, and you don’t get it back.” He quoted me in a pompous voice that was obviously supposed to be mine.
“Thank you again, Seb,” I said as calmly as I could. My chest was heavy with the weight of nearly two decades of good times, now a soured memory. “You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Yep.” He sniffed and made a noise. Like he was choking back tears?
A deep, gouging sadness clashed with my raging anger. I’d missed him too. I hadn’t realized how much until now.
“I’ll stay in close touch,” was all I said.