Chapter 12
TWELVE
Darcy hated the Hamptons almost as much as he hated overblown society affairs attended by hangers-on and self-absorbed elitists desperate to remain relevant and revered.
This black-tie wedding reception was the precursor to his upcoming overblown wedding.
It represented the epitome of everything he despised about excessive wealth, and from the look of the crowd fawning over the newly joined bride and groom, it was going to be a miserable night.
At first glance upon entering the ballroom, he surmised he was the flushest guy on the guest list, but he’d never flaunt it.
Caroline, on the other hand, was flashing her engagement ring to some woman stuffed into a gold lamé, sparkling sausage casing.
He imagined all the bragging his fiancée had subjected everyone to and was glad his morning meeting had run late.
Still, he had a show to put on as the happy groom-to-be.
His stomach churned at the thought, but when Caroline turned and their eyes met, he felt a tinge of guilt at thinking poorly of his self-made predicament.
She was giving the unusual marriage agreement her all.
Hell, she had memorized the entire marriage pact.
Looking gorgeous, she waved and sauntered across the room, black chiffon gown flowing behind her.
“Darcy, you finally made it! This is beyond fashionably late.” Her ruby red lips planted a wet one on his mouth, and his arm obligatorily slid around her waist, pulling her closer.
He hadn’t kissed her like this in years, not even at their performative engagement party, but he promised an Oscar-winning act tonight.
She moaned in reply. Yeah, she was already drunk. It was going to be a long night.
“We’re just about to sit down for dinner. You’d think Sean would have seen to getting you here earlier.”
“He’s my bodyguard, not my babysitter, and he has the night off.”
She shrugged, taking his hand. “You are not going to believe who is here!”
“Try me.”
“Four congressional reps, two mayors, and the CEO of Sonic Defense!”
“Seriously?” he asked, eyes boring into hers.
“You were right. They are dyyyyinng. Looks like you may have another opportunity to acquire them.”
“More like an opportunity to say, ‘I told you so’.”
“No, make another offer to invest in them. He’s good friends with Daddy, and it would go a long way toward a harmonious future. You should also send him a box of Cubans from your friend down on Canal Street.”
“I’m not sending Cubans to anyone. Sonic had its chance, and once my decision is made, it’s final. Besides, I don’t show favoritism—ever.”
“Ooooh, I love it when you go all shark.” She growled, then ran a hand down the front of his tux. “You look so hot tonight. Maybe later we can, you know ... practice for our wedding night.” She puppy pouted.
He wouldn’t dignify the request with a response. She wasn’t getting anything beyond his reception performance.
The setting sun on the ocean beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows cast an orange hue across the crowded room of four hundred or so. He had to admit the setting was perfect. “Do you know all these people?”
“Only a couple. Some are Charlie’s legal eagle friends, but most are Daddy’s. I think a few of the single guys are Hurst’s old frat buddies. Blech. The New York Beacon and The Hampton Gazette are here, of course. NYC Bride and that rag Wedding, Inc.”
“Marvelous,” he stated dryly. The press had always been a thorn in the Darcy side. “Where’s Charlie?”
“Over by the windows with a date. I hear she’s lovely, but we haven’t met yet. He thinks she’s an angel, of course.”
“It’s about time he found a nice girl. I was starting to think he swore off viable relationships.”
“He’s certainly not you, Darcy. C’mon, let’s go say hi.”
They squeezed through the crowded dance floor to some hip-hop song when Caroline abruptly stopped, turning around to face him. Like she’d just seen a ghost, she stammered. “Um ... ... not ... um ... now. Maybe after dinner you can meet her.”
“I want to see Charlie, not his date, although I am curious.”
“Now’s not a good time.”
“Of course, it is.”
“No ... you have to trust me, Darcy. It’s not. In fact, I think we should leave and go back to our suite.”
“What are you talking about? I just got here and I’m starving.”
She looked like she was about to cry. “Please, please. Let’s go. I can’t stay here. You definitely can’t stay here,” she begged, tugging on his hand and trying to divert his attention.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dropping her hand, he proceeded to the table by the window only to stop dead in his tracks.
He stiffened. Sucker punched, his breath audibly hitched.
Everyone and everything in the room disappeared in a flash. Only the sound of his heart reverberated in his ears, and Caroline’s tight grasp on his bicep reminded him that she stood beside him.
Backdropped by the setting sun and twinkling tea lights, Lizzy sat beside George Wickham with his arm draped across the back of her chair.
She laughed at something the creep said, and the room took on a blinding brightness, such was the light he’d once fallen for.
Stunning!―like a laser to his heart. Seconds halted as he drank her in.
She looked ethereal, wearing a pale pink one-shoulder dress.
Her bound chestnut waves cascaded over a bare shoulder.
Those luscious lips he well remembered shimmered in the ballroom light.
In that spellbinding moment, Lizzy was everything he’d dreamt about during his self-imposed sexual exile.
Her long-lashed dark eyes met his, and she timidly smiled at his furrowed brow.
Caroline stammered, “Darcy ... you remember Elizabeth and your old prep school buddy—her fiancé George. And this is Jane, Elizabeth’s sister, Charlie’s girlfriend.”
Focusing on the “fiancé” part, he ignored Elizabeth’s soft hello, narrowing his eyes and shooting daggers at Wickham and the blonde seated beside his friend. “I need a drink,” he blurted, turning on his heel back through the crowd.
Following behind him, Caroline explained.
“I didn’t know they would be here! I’m so sorry, Darcy.
Please believe me, I only found out yesterday that she was the one who sold Hurst a painting at La Tempera, and now she and Louisa are like best buds.
Had I known your ex was invited, I would have .
.. but I couldn’t ... because ... the contract.
I couldn’t tell you without breaking clause 142. 9 triple i.”
“What are you saying? Speak plainly.”
“Elizabeth owns the gallery. She’s our art broker.”
“She owns the gallery—not Wickham?”
“George? That’s a laugh! She’s the sole owner. I found out when I went to the art reception.”
This was more than any sober man could handle. “Where’s the bar!” he shouted, turning around and around until finally a server passed with a tray of champagne. He downed the flute in one long draft.
“Please don’t drink.”
Removing Carrie’s hand from his forearm, he left her in the middle of the dance floor.
“Don’t do it, dude,” Charlie said, intercepting him on the way to the bar. “She’s not worth it. You’ve been on the wagon for a long time. Booze is not the answer to this weird situation. As your attorney, I’m—”
“What are you doing with her psycho sister?” he snapped.
“You know, that was pretty rude of you back there. Janie’s my new girlfriend.”
“God help you.”
“I know it’s a small world and you’ve been blindsided by your ex and that douchebag Wickham, but no need to drag Janie into this. My girl’s an angel.”
“I’ll have a straight, triple scotch,” he said to the bartender. “An angel? That miss priss, interfering demon is the reason Lizzy left me!”
“What?” Charlie leaned on the bar. “Stop it. You’re acting like an asshole because you’re jaded. I’ve never met a sweeter girl,” he said dreamily. “She’s like straight up out of a romance movie.”
He grunted. “More like a horror movie. The power of that insane woman’s worm-tongue persuasion and manipulation poisoned Lizzy against something perfect and pure!”
“You’re wrong about that. Janie is all class.”
“It’s a carefully constructed facade to fool the masses. She’s a fucking demon.”
That the controlling sister would insert herself into his romantic relationship and convince Lizzy that all he cared about was his career broke him back then.
She didn’t know anything of substance about him, didn’t know what he and Lizzy shared or what their dreams and plans were!
Goodbye, good riddance. He didn’t want a woman who could be so easily swayed by another to give up a once-in-a-lifetime love, anyway!
Weak-minded people were useless, and Lizzy clearly had not been who he thought she was, not then, not now. And now she’s here, engaged to Wickham!
Foolish woman! He pounded back the drink, then slammed the rocks glass on the bar. “Fill it. I hope you have a happy future with her, Charlie. The women in that family are fucked in the head.”
“Aw, dude, I know you’ll regret saying all this in the morning, and I’ll forgive you because you’re like a brother to me. It’s the booze talking. Just remember this—the women in my family are no better, and I tried to persuade you not to enter a contract with my sister.”
“That’s different. It’s a business arrangement. Beanz and I aren’t in love, and I know exactly what my future will be with her—big difference.”
“You’re delusional. My sister has been in love with you—and gunning for your money—since the eighth grade. She trapped you into this ridiculous marriage pact, which gave her a reason to cling to you and not get on with her life—maybe even find true love. I’m sorry, but you own this.”
“Blah, blah, blah.”