Chapter 21 Darcy
DARCY
Ijust stand there for a moment, unable to react as Derek’s harsh words bounce around in my heart, tearing down all my fantasies and letting the harsh light of reality back inside.
There are no real feelings involved.
She’s doing it for money and I’m doing it for Michael.
That’s true. At least it’s what we agreed on. When I said yes, I was thinking of selling a diamond to pay off my student loans.
But I was also thinking of his sweet grandfather.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I was thinking about how much I wanted to pretend to be Derek’s fiancée because I’ve always wanted to be his real one.
These last couple of days have been so special to me. But it looks like I was alone in that feeling. I can’t believe I even thought he was going to kiss me…
Don’t be stupid, my inner critic hisses. He’s just a man.
And she’s harsh, but maybe she’s right. Derek Lockwood is used to having the most beautiful women in New York City falling all over him.
If he thought of kissing me, maybe it was just because I was there and not because I’m special to him.
Maybe kissing someone isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to me.
“Sorry, Mr. Lockwood,” I manage to spit out. “I just wanted to let you know we’re heading a bit further down Celestial. We can meet you at the bakery afterward if you want?”
“Sure,” he says right away.
His voice sounds strange and rough, and I can tell he’s trying to catch my eye. He’s probably trying to figure out if I heard what he just said.
But I can’t bear to look at him because if I do, he’s going to see right through me to the miserable fool inside.
“See you later,” I say, turning and heading back to join J.B. as fast as I can.
At least she wasn’t close enough to hear any of that. I just need to pull myself together before I catch up to her and have to pretend everything is normal again.
I pass a couple with a little girl, all three of them carrying shopping bags and smiling. They call out to a lady across the street who is pushing a stroller and walking a funny little dog whose leash is attached to the stroller.
I try not to let myself think about what I don’t have.
I do have my sister and brother-in-law, my nephews, a good job, a safe apartment, and a future ahead of me.
I’m still young. I don’t need a family yet.
I don’t need anything in the world. I’ve got Christmas cookie dough in the freezer back in the city, and two honking big diamonds to sell so I can get out from under my student loans.
I’m going to be okay, I tell myself as I jog across the street to J.B., who is waiting for me by a little wrought-iron bench.
“Are you okay?” J.B. asks, sounding horrified.
I guess I wear my emotions on my face.
“Yes,” I tell her. “Definitely. I’m really excited to shop. I’m just worried that I don’t know what to get for your dad.”
“Yeah,” she says, laughing a little. “He already has everything he could want, or at least he can buy anything if he wants it. We have to get him something he doesn’t know he wants.”
“What doesn’t he know he wants?” I ask her, mystified.
“Come on,” she tells me. “I’ll show you.”
She leads me further down the main street, and at last we reach a grocery store that takes up at least four storefronts. A sign hanging over the doors says Mama’s Pantry.
“We’re getting his present at a grocery store?” I ask.
She just smiles and darts in the big glass door when it opens automatically, leaving me no choice but to follow her.
J.B. has definitely been in here before, or she has some sort of homing beacon for sweets. We go straight to the candy aisle and the next thing I know she’s got a stack of chocolate bars in her hand.
They look amazing, don’t get me wrong. But as a person with a certified sweet tooth, I know they aren’t the best. They don’t have nougat or caramel or peanut butter or anything.
They’re just plain bars. And though Derek has a more sophisticated palate than I do, if he’s eating chocolate at all I’d expect him to want the fancy imported kind with a cacao count on the package, not the Pennsylvania stuff I love with nothing but the name on the wrapper.
But when she grabs an absolutely massive bag of marshmallows and heads for the cookie aisle, I start to get the idea.
“S’mores?” I guess. “Do you really think he would eat s’mores?”
Sweet and messy? I can’t picture that at all.
“He loves s’mores,” J.B. says with a big grin. “It’s one of his secret weaknesses. And the cabin has a wood stove. We can make millions of them without even going outside.”
I laugh at her joyous announcement and suddenly I’m feeling more like myself.
“What?” she asks, her brow furrowing.
“I’m laughing because I’m happy,” I tell her. “Also because you’re awesome. He’s so lucky.”
“So are you,” she says, arching a brow.
I realize she means that I’m lucky because I’m going to be her stepmom, and suddenly I want nothing more in the world than to tell her everything and beg for her forgiveness.
But I know I can’t do that. Derek is her dad. He’ll decide when to talk to her about it.
And when that day comes, my friendship with her will be over.
“Come on,” she tells me. “We have to buy this stuff before he figures out where we are.”
We grab some gift bags from another aisle and then head to the checkout.
I’m feeling even better after another walk through the frosty air. Flurries are drifting down all around us and the people here are so friendly. They wave to us and say hello, even though they have no idea who we are.
But when we rejoin Derek and I sense him studying me, I get that same awful feeling in my stomach as before and I still can’t bring myself to look at him.
I guess I’m giving away that I have hurt feelings, but it’s better for him to figure it out than for me to catch his eyes when he’s giving me a sympathetic look and start ugly-crying in front of his daughter.
“Now you two have to go get something for me,” J.B. says excitedly.
“Oh, we’ve got plenty for you already,” her father tells her.
“Actually, I want to go get you something on my own,” I tell them. “You two go find something for Michael.”
“I’ll come with you—” Derek begins to say.
“Yes,” J.B. says immediately, grabbing his arm. “I know exactly what we have to get him, Dad.”
I breathe a sigh of relief when he lets her lead him off.
Then I look around, wondering what to buy for the girl who probably won’t ever see me again after she finds out I’ve been lying to her.
Normally I’d get her more books and graphic novels, but I’m feeling sentimental and I want something more… permanent.
Then I remember that sweet looking jewelry shop that’s back a block or two.
I walk a bit, trying to remember where I saw it and suddenly there it is.
It’s a small storefront with a sign that says Bells and Baubles.
The floor to ceiling windows reveal a shop filled with glass cases, but up front is a Christmas display with a life-sized mother deer figure and her two babies kneeling in cotton batting snow, surrounded by potted poinsettias.
Paper snowflakes hang from almost invisible wire all around them.
I push open the door and I’m relieved to find that the shop only has two other customers browsing around.
“Hello, there,” a lady says in a melodious voice from behind the counter. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“I’m looking for a gift for my stepdaughter-to-be,” I tell her, wishing it were true.
“My name is Marion and I’m happy to help you,” she tells me, her eyes lighting up. “What kind of thing do you think your stepdaughter would like?”
I frown, thinking about J.B. and what kind of clothing she likes to wear.
“She’s casual,” I tell her. “Like me. And I think she’d like something a little unusual, maybe something kind of old-fashioned?”
“I see,” Marion says. I can literally see her mind working.
“Also, I’m on a bit of a budget,” I tell her belatedly. “So I guess that limits me.”
“A locket?” she says suddenly.
“Yes,” I tell her immediately. “A locket would be perfect.”
“I think I know just the one,” she tells me. “Right this way.”
I follow her and then look around while she flicks through her keys to open a case.
Everything in here is beautiful, and it’s not just the jewelry, it’s also the way the display cases are set up. Everything is like a work of art.
“Here we are,” she says, holding out the most beautiful heart-shaped locket. “My favorite part is the details.”
I take it from her and lift it up and I can only sigh in admiration as the mother-of-pearl on the front of the little silver heart shimmers in the light.
I can feel a little carving on the back, so I flip it over to find some writing in swirling letters.
You have my heart.
“It’s perfect,” I breathe.
Unfortunately, the price tag on the chain slips down and right into view at just that moment.
A month from now when I’m back in the city and I’ve sold Derek’s diamonds I’d be able to buy this, but right now I’m nowhere close.
“Oh,” I hear myself say in disappointment. “It’s beautiful but it’s not in my budget.”
“Don’t pay any attention to the tag,” Marion says immediately. “It’s already engraved because I tried out my new machine on it, so there’s a substantial discount.”
She names a price that is mercifully in my budget, and suspiciously lower than the price on the little tag.
“Are you sure?” I ask her.
“I’ve always been a matchmaker,” she tells me with a secret smile. “And this is a match. I just know it.”
We walk up to the counter together and she places the locket in a pretty pink box for me before I pay.
“Oh,” she says, looking at my ring as I hand her my card.
“It’s a family heirloom,” I tell her, looking down at my hand at the ring that feels like it’s been there forever.
“I see,” she says, nodding. “It’s beautiful. Congratulations.”
When I get outside, I realize that I was in such a hurry to get away that I didn’t set a meeting place with J.B. and Derek.
I tuck the little box in my bag and decide to take my time heading back toward the park before checking in. Maybe if I catch my breath a little I won’t feel so sad.
I’m almost there when I spot the two of them coming out of the toy store, talking and laughing.
For one second I feel this incredible sense of happiness and safety like I would expect when coming home to my family. Only they’re not my family, and this is not my home.
But if that’s true, then why do I feel like this?