My Pride, His Prejudice (Austen in Love Book 1) Read online

  “Shut it. Don’t. I’ll start falling in love with him if you keep this up.” Eliza pushed her plate away. “You know how much I love OUR, and how many 5Ks I’ve run and organized for cancer fundraising ever since Dad got diagnosed.”

  “And I know you and women’s shelters too.” Jane crossed her heart again, and then zipped her lips. “I promise, no one will know you shattered Salt Lake City’s biggest superhero.”

  “Jane!”

  Her sister took a deep breath, and it was crazy. For a moment, it looked like tears had begun to form. “Honestly, though, I can see why he chose you.”

  “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

  “You don’t have to. You don’t ever have to think about it again because frankly, if you’re not in love with him, it’s okay. This is your choice. Your life. But tonight, when you look in the mirror and feel a little smaller than normal, know this one thing—I love you.” She grinned a lopsided grin. “I love you. And even if you don’t understand yet why he’d fall for you, I get it. You two just match. Perfectly.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT:

  Later that night, Jane was right. Eliza did feel a little bit smaller than she had earlier. After tidying up the kitchen and living room to the hum of the T.V. news station in the background, she curled up on her white sofa and tucked an afghan under her feet. Her thoughts wandered all over the new Mr. Darcy. Everything she learned about him seemed to shatter the old ideas she had of him. Caring, protective brother, a fair business partner, and now Mr. Charity—on top of his good looks, wealth, and charm that made that incredible man.

  She wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin on her knees. In fact, she felt extremely small and unimportant when compared to his much larger contributions to society. Sure, she raised a few hundred dollars with each fun run, but how could she even compete with the money and generosity of such a man? Why would any organization even need her?

  In a huff, she tossed the blanket aside and stood up. Flipping on the light in the bathroom, she examined herself. Almost thirty, and too stubborn to see her own worth. She faced her green eyes head on and really searched for what others saw. That drive. That fire. That innate ability to be right. Her own silly pride. And then it hit her! She wasn’t feeling worthless because of Will’s importance. No, she was feeling so small because maybe—just maybe—she had judged him wrong, and she wasn’t quite certain what to do with that knowledge.

  If she had been wrong about him, and if he really was someone she should’ve taken time to get to know better, the joke was on her. The loss was hers, and not his. And if she had wrongly judged him, how many other people out there had been cast aside by her selfishness and unkind thoughts?

  Tonight was not a good night. Those times of deep reflection, while character building and cleansing, are very painful. She blinked back a few tears for her stupidity and callousness, no doubt being way harder on herself than she needed to be. But it was a good moment of change. And if she understood anything, it was that change meant growth, and growth was always good.

  She wiped the last tear and started washing her face, but then she heard her phone ring. She washed as fast as she could and then patted herself dry.

  By the time she got to the phone, they’d already hung up. Glancing at it, she saw there were two unread texts and the missed call. The texts were from her mom, but the call was from Will. Curious, she collected the blanket again and sat down on the couch, this time reaching for her remote and turning off the TV.

  She stared at the phone as she contemplated the excited sparks surging through her. Then, waiting a minute longer so she wouldn’t seem too eager, she finally gave in and returned the call.

  “Hello?” his deep voice answered on the second ring.

  “Hi. Sorry I missed you.”

  “How was everything today?”

  How many times had they spoken before? How many times had they discussed office concerns, and this time—this time she could almost imagine there being more. That tension between them of wanting to say more, but not being able to.

  “I—it was good,” she stumbled a bit. “How was your flight? Did you make it okay?”

  “Yeah.” His warm response wrapped her up in tingles. “It was a nice flight.” He laughed softly. “Not that it wouldn’t be, with the private ride and all.”

  See? There it was, his snobbishness coming off again. “Of course.” She felt her heart cool and straightened her legs. “Well, great. Glad everything went okay. So, have you heard any news about Georgia?”

  “No. Well, a little. I was given a list of hotels where her credit cards had been used.”

  She growled. “I seriously would think about murdering the man.”

  “It’s a possibility.” He sounded tired. “I mean, jail time wouldn’t be too bad, knowing Joe wasn’t going around scamming anyone else.”

  “Nah, they wouldn’t put you behind bars. You’re too pretty.” She yawned.

  “Ha. Do you really think so?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yep. You’re quite the fisherman, aren’t you?”

  “Hey, I’ll take any bait I can get from the one girl who hates my guts.”

  “Whatever. I don’t hate your guts.”

  He snorted, a very manly guffaw. “Whatever makes you sleep better at night, princess.”

  She sat up. “Hey! I resent that remark.”

  “You mean you act just like one, right?”

  “You’re so lucky there’s a state between us. You know darn well I’m the least like a princess of any girl you’ve met.”

  He chuckled. “And what does that mean?”

  “As if I needed pampering, and a man to look after me, and all that nonsense that says I can’t look after myself.”

  “Let me see. Demanding, arrogant, prideful, condescending, self-righteous, and beautiful. Yep, that about sums it up. You’re a princess in my book.”

  She gasped. Really, tonight was not the night for this. “Of all the things to say to me! As if I’m half of that. Good grief.” And people wonder why women were the superior sex.

  Laughing, he interrupted. “I’m just kidding, and you know it.”

  Did she? “Sure, make excuses now.” She tried not to let it affect her, but his words hit a little too close to home.

  He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. My tongue is quicker than my brain sometimes. Forgive me?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m tough as nails, remember?”

  She knew that groan—he was wincing. “I’m one of those Neanderthal men who need a lot of practice interacting with women.”

  “Ha! Said the most wanted guy in Salt Lake. I’m not buying it. You’ve had plenty of practice.”

  His voice got softer. “You’re right. But now that it matters, I seem to get everything wrong.”

  Eliza felt her heart skip a beat as Will cleared his throat.

  “Well, I guess I’d better leave you to it. How does this time tomorrow work for you? Is it too late? Too early?”

  She glanced at the clock. “Nine works.”

  “Okay. Let’s catch up tomorrow at nine, then.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Oh, and Eliza?”

  “Yeah?”

  He paused a moment. “Do you . . . have you . . . I mean, by any chance, have you read the email I sent Friday night?”

  “I, uh…” Did she finish it? In all that day’s confusion, she wasn’t certain. “I started it, but I don’t think I’ve read it all the way through. Why?”

  “Good!” He sighed with relief. “Do me a favor—don’t.”

  CHAPTER NINE:

  “What? Why?” Eliza asked.

  Will sounded a bit desperate. “Just trust me. You can read the whole email later—well, when I say. Just promise me you won’t yet.”

  Now she had to know what it said. “Are you kidding me, Will?”

  “No. No, I’m not. I’m dead serious.”

  “But now I want to read it.”

 
“I know, but please don’t.”

  This made no sense. “But what if I already had? Then what?”

  “Then I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be talking like this. Just do me a favor and stop thinking about it for a few weeks. Okay? Just give me a little while to prove it.”

  My word, she was going to die of curiosity now. “Prove what?”

  “It.”

  She groaned. “You’re the worst.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. So you’ve told me.”

  “You’re the most annoying man ever.”

  “So does that mean you won’t read it?”

  She grunted. “Yes. Though you owe me.”

  “Thank you. Whatever you think I should do to repay you will be worth it.”

  “Gah. Stop. You’re making it worse.”

  He chuckled. “Sorry. But it is kind of fun.”

  “Will…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She grinned, though she certainly wasn’t trying to.

  “Goodnight, princess.”

  “Ugh!” But he didn’t hear—the phone had cut off. The wimp. If he’d been in the same room, she would’ve tossed something at his head. Or punched him in the arm. Or kicked his butt. Or kissed that stupid grin off his face—Wait. What?

  She closed her eyes. Yeah, she was a lot more tired than she realized. Instead of having imaginary conversations with the dork, she took the afghan with her and climbed into bed, determined—but not quite succeeding—not to dream about a handsome, dark-haired, conceited moron who was driving her nuts.

  ***

  Will put his phone down and froze on the overstuffed chair in his hotel suite. Counting to ten, he finally exhaled and opened his eyes. His heart pounded harder than it had on Friday night, and that was really saying something. He clenched his right fist and then released it, begging the tension in his body to fade at the same time.

  If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was close to giddy, a feeling he’d never experienced in his whole life. What was it about that irritating woman that drove him over the edge like this? Never had he felt so lost and unsure of himself or as seriously stupid as he did around her.

  But that voice!

  He shivered as flashes of remembrance ran through him. Her warm, raspberry-kissed voice had caused him to fall in love with her months ago, but to listen to it amplified like that, to hear her soft, sultry tones prick their way into his eardrums and down his neck caused major chaos inside him.

  Who was he kidding? He was a wreck! One nightmarish wreck. And he had been since the moment she walked into his office a year ago. He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

  He was also tired, very tired. But the night was still young. In fact, in Las Vegas, it was just beginning. After glancing at his watch, he picked up his phone and slipped it into his jeans pocket. The standard for meeting these men would’ve probably warranted a suit and tie, but not tonight. Not now. He wanted to draw the least amount of attention to himself as possible. Instead, he opted for a crisp black button-up shirt and some designer jeans, with casual footwear. Something that showed young, playful, money. Nothing that would stand out.

  With ten minutes to spare, he walked out of his hotel room and down the long hallway to the elevator. When he headed into the smoked-filled lounge full of people in glittering mayhem, he could see the P.I. already waiting for him. They’d be meeting the undercover police chief and an elite collection of casino owners at the lounge’s private bar. None of them would be drinking—they had some intense business to conduct, and he insisted that his paycheck was worth fully sober men who treated this matter as seriously as he did.

  He took another deep breath, pushing out all thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet, and focused on the task at hand. No matter what it took, he would not leave Vegas without his little sister. And heaven help anyone who tried to stop him.

  ***

  Two days later, Eliza still hadn’t managed to get the man out of her head. It certainly didn’t help that her mom was constantly talking about their Vegas trip. The Vegas trip she had yet to tell Will about. It was already Wednesday, and they would be there Friday night once the office closed. At this rate, she might as well surprise him. Then again, she didn’t have to follow him around.

  Las Vegas was a big city, and there was no way of knowing if they’d be in the same lounge at the same time. When he called, she’d ask where he was going to be, and then she’d keep her mom away from him. She grinned. It sounded brilliant. She was certain Will wouldn’t survive meeting her mother. Or even worse—how would Eliza survive the two of them meeting?

  She shuddered as she headed out of the office.

  The day had been pretty good. Only a small hiccup over at the plant that manufactured some of their home products, but that was an easy fix. Just a short phone call to the general manager, and ten minutes later, feathers were unruffled and they were back in production. It amazed her how so many times, one small detail would get misunderstood and everything would come to a standstill. Nothing major. Certainly nothing to stop manufacturing over, but whatever it was, people would allow it to build up until someone freaked out and business halted until the misunderstanding could be fixed.

  She smiled ruefully as she pushed through the main doors and stepped into the beautiful May sunshine. It kind of reminded her of relationships in general. They would go along fine until some small thing would pause everything and then—wham. Ruffled feathers and all that nonsense over a little misunderstanding.

  “Hey, Eliza, wait up!”

  She turned to find Charles Bingley heading out of the building on the ramp toward the company parking garage. “Is everything okay?”

  He lightly jogged to catch up. His blond hair still looked perfect when he stopped. It so wasn’t fair. If she’d just run like that, her mop would’ve been a huge mess of flyaways and wispies.

  Grinning, he nodded his head. “Yeah, everything is fine. I was actually hoping to catch you alone—you know, away from the office. Would you like to grab a quick bite to eat so we can talk? I need to ask you something about your sister.”

  CHAPTER TEN:

  They’d been sitting at the table for twelve minutes, and Charles still hadn’t mentioned Jane once. Instead, he was still staring at his menu. She thought not reading the rest of Will’s email was going to kill her—nah, this curiosity was much worse. What would Jane’s sort-of-ex want to talk about, anyway? He’d made it clear he had no time for her a couple of months ago, so was he having a change of heart?

  Chicken Alfredo with Caesar salad. There. Done. Easy. It’s not like it’s hard to choose Italian food, was it? The waiter brought over some breadsticks, and Eliza chewed on one.

  “Do you need a minute more to decide?” the girl asked him.

  Charles looked up. “Uh, yeah, just a couple. Sorry.”

  “No worries. I’ll be back when you’re ready.”

  Eliza smiled at the waitress and then took another bite of bread. She tried desperately not to drum her nails on the table. Showing impatience wasn’t exactly the way to get someone to spill their secrets. But honestly, what else was she supposed to do?

  She studied the top of his hipster-parted hair and wondered for the eightieth time what he wanted to talk about.

  It had been the end of February when her sister knocked on her door and planted herself on the couch. The tears didn’t take long to come. Eliza knew they’d only been dating for a few months, but Jane honestly thought they’d stick it out. Part of her figured Charles was the one.

  Eliza had held her sister and rationalized everything as best she could, but it wasn’t enough. Jane had fallen for him, and he clearly didn’t reciprocate. Eliza didn’t blame Jane for being confused. It wasn’t like Charles hid anything. My goodness, he gushed about this gorgeous girl he was dating to anyone who’d listen. And then, bam—it was over. Just like that. He was going to be too busy in New York, so they had to end things. Not even willing to try it out, or do the lo
ng-distance thing, or anything. Just, sorry.

  It was awful. And odd.

  And Jane was too kind to ask him about it, to call him out and put him on the spot and make him explain what had really happened. Instead, she wiped her tears, shrugged her shoulders, and said that if he ever felt the need to explain it to her, he would. Until then, she was a big girl, and over was over. It hurt, but it was what it was.

  Eliza had to go back to work and sporadically interact with him, and Jane rarely brought him up. And life went on.

  Until today.

  As soon as they’d both placed their orders and the waitress left, Eliza pounced. She honestly couldn’t wait another moment. “So, what would you like to know about Jane?” Come on—spit it out.

  He looked at her in surprise, and then a shy dimple peeked out on his left cheek. “I don’t know. I mean, I do. I have a few things I’d like to know, but I don’t really know how to ask.”

  “Well, how about you start at the beginning?”

  He picked up a breadstick and twirled it around. “Can I ask if Will mentioned anything to you?”

  Will? “About what?”

  “Er, nothing. I was just wondering if you two had ever talked about me and your sister.”

  She scrunched her brow and thought back. “Not that I can remember. Why? Did he ever say anything to you? Did he find it weird or something?”

  “Uh…” He looked up and evaded the question. “How is Jane, anyway? She keeping busy at the school?”

  “Yep.” Okay, what in the world was he hiding? “Kids and teachers and parents love her.”

  He grinned, that dimple peeping out again. “Good. I loved watching her around the kids. She’s really amazing, isn’t she?”

  Heck with it. If he thought she was amazing, then—“Why did you break up with her?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Did we break up? Is that how she saw it?”