First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice (20 page)

Lizzy could’ve handled the stampede if she could’ve used her phone or the Wi-Fi, but the Busby’s were against Wi-Fi and cell phones in general. They had some kind of blocker installed in their house so that visiting children wouldn’t use their cell phones.

Lizzy, however, was not a child. She was a grown woman who was addicted to her phone.

If she could have afforded it, she would have gotten a hotel. She called around to everyone she knew, but no one could find her a place to stay in Calgary. It was vacation season; everyone was going to Cuba or Mexico.

Thank God she’d loaded her cell with audiobooks. At least she had something.

The baby, the toddler, and the other toddler pretty much cried all night. Lizzy was failing to sleep on a futon in the living room, so she heard all the fuss. She should have brought the noise-cancelling headphones and not the earbuds.

She gave up on sleep at 6 am, when the pitter-patter of little feet told her the screaming was about to resume.

Once breakfast and showers were out of the way, Lizzy headed out to the morning meetings. The first was with a construction company. The owner came in during the visit, listened to Lizzy pitch the work skills program that Melissa was doing, explaining how she wanted to start her own in Edmonton, and the owner wrote her a cheque for $1,000 right then and there from his own bank account. He said he’d commit to the company making a donation, but wasn’t sure yet what.

Her second meeting was with a law firm with offices in Calgary and Edmonton, and she asked if they would commit to four high-quality meals in each city for the next year, costing about $2,000. The EA in the meeting took notes and thanked Lizzy for her time. Lizzy hadn’t made it to the elevator when the EA called her back. The senior partner asked if they could sponsor a meal a month, alternating between cities. Lizzy, of course, said sure, and the partner asked her to send menus and invoices, and they would cover it.

Donation gathering was normally not that quick, nor that productive, so Lizzy was feeling proud of herself. She walked the two blocks to her final meeting of the day and ducked inside to find the washroom. She brushed her teeth — they’d served coffee at the previous meeting — and shook out her hair a little and sprayed more hairspray into it. She was going to need to shave her head later, to get all of the product out.

Her makeup had started to melt, so she washed it off and reapplied it. She wasn’t used to wearing makeup, and she wondered how women could go all day with the same makeup face. By about noon, hers had always partially rubbed off and sunk into the creases, aging her a good decade.

Overall, she was quite pleased with her appearance. Dress pants, jacket, nice blouse, scarf, and conservative earrings. Her interview outfit, as she called it.

Lizzy checked the time. She had fifteen minutes to go. Still on time. She packed her makeup back into its pouch, and headed upstairs to the twentieth floor and Pemberley Solutions.

Chapter 25

The elevator doors opened into a reception area. She’d expected it to be a hallway with several doors to different companies. Apparently Pemberley took up the entire floor.

Melissa was in the waiting area and stood when Lizzy arrived. She looked confident in her red blouse, grey sweater, and grey trousers. Melissa’s “work” winter coat, the nice tweed one she only took out for meetings, hung from a nearby coat hanger. Lizzy smiled, but Melissa didn’t smile back.

“You okay?” Lizzy whispered

“Ms. Bennet?” The receptionist asked. The brass name plate that sat on her raised wooden desk read Kathy Morland.

“Yes?”

The young woman, in her white and brown dress, grinned widely. “If you will have a seat, the board will be ready for you in a few moments.”

“Thank you.” Lizzy said and sat down next to Melissa. “Rough day?”

“Lizzy, we really need this meeting to go well,” Melissa whispered.

“I know,” Lizzy whispered back.

Melissa gave Lizzy a look and repeated, “We
really
need this meeting to go well.” She turned her head to the wall opposite the receptionist. Lizzy followed her gaze and the bottom dropped out of her day.

Pemberley Solutions

A Division of Fitz & William Enterprises Inc.

“No. Oh, no.” Lizzy gave Melissa a panicked look. “No.”

“Lizzy…” Melissa warned.

“Did you know this?” Lizzy kept to a whisper.

“Of course not. He’s probably not even here.”

Lizzy’s heart pounded. This was his company? He owned this company? It never occurred to her that his company owned others. Stupid, stupid Lizzy. She knew he bought out other companies; that was the entire reason he’d been in Edmonton!

An idea struck her. Lizzy went back to Kathy Morland. “Excuse me, will the entire executive be at the meeting today?”

“I believe so.”

“So, Mr. Darcy will be there?”

The receptionist seemed surprised. “No. He normally comes the first Tuesday and Wednesday of the month, so you’ve missed him.”

Lizzy didn’t blow out a sigh of relief, but it was tempting. “Thanks, Kathy.”

“You’re welcome,” she chirped back.

Well, all right then. She could totally do this. When Kathy called them to follow her, Lizzy’s heart began to pound. Divine intervention had saved her from the most awkward reunion ever.

As she was led through the corridors, Lizzy was struck with how friendly and overwhelmingly happy the employees seemed. She walked by treadmill desks, standing desks, and ergonomic chairs and desks. She saw fish tanks, fountains, and a freaking foosball table. People wore various outfits, and there seemed to be no dress code beyond clean. Lizzy had assumed anything touched by the great William Darcy would require three-piece suits, snobbery, and—

Lizzy stumbled backwards and landed on the floor; she’d plowed into a tall figure and papers had gone flying. She tried to quell the panic of having the wind knocked out of her.

“Oh goodness!” A tall, curvy woman exclaimed and offered her hand. “Are you all right?”

“I’m so sorry,” said a familiar masculine voice.

Good God in Heaven.

“Lizzy?”

Lizzy’s heart pounded and her palms were instantly sweaty. Her body temperature skyrocketed. Her vision went blurry. Was this what a panic attack felt like? This was awful. Maybe it was a stroke. Oh God, she was having a stroke and a panic attack. Oh God, William Darcy was staring at her.

“Darcy.”

“Your shirt,” the mysterious woman said. “Um, your buttons.”

Lizzy looked down and knew her face was scarlet, nicely matching her bra which was showing. She fumbled the buttons that had popped open and, with the help of Melissa, got to her feet. The receptionist and the mystery woman picked up papers. Lizzy and Darcy stared at each other.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here,” Lizzy said.

“No, but I am anyway.”

“Obviously,” Lizzy said. Oh Lord, he was here and she’d just flashed her fanciest bra at him. What was she thinking, wearing the red one?

Darcy looked as embarrassed as she felt. He was looking anywhere but at her chest, and his face was flushed as red as the bra too. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for a funding meeting with the board. This is Melissa.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you properly again. We met briefly at the Faith,” Darcy said, and Lizzy could see the thought processes.

Oh, this was the meeting he was looking forward to in his tweet! He didn’t even realize she was going to be there. That’s why he came on the wrong day.

“Lizzy? As in Elizabeth Bennet?” The mystery woman asked, looking between Darcy and Lizzy.

“Yes,” Lizzy said.

“I’m Fanny Price, Mr. Darcy’s Executive Assistant.” She flashed Darcy a wicked smile. “It’s so good to meet you in person.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Fanny.” Lizzy blinked. “Wait, Fanny Price? As in, Frances Price and five hundred dollars’ worth of sugar?”

Fanny beamed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Darcy closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Lizzy didn’t believe it was possible for his face to turn redder, but it did.

“Mr. Darcy has told me about your work. I hope we’ll have the opportunity to talk while you’re in the city. I’d love to hear about it.”

Lizzy looked between Darcy and Fanny, and took her outstretched hand. “Um, sure. I’ll try to make time.”

Kathy cleared her throat. “Mr. Darcy, we should get our guests into the meeting.”

“Of course,” Darcy said, and led them the rest of the way to the board room.

Right. She was here to give a talk on the politics of food because she wanted a major and long-term donation from them.

Right.

Oh, crap.

Melissa introduced them both and Lizzy found herself just staring at Darcy, who stared back. She was overheating and felt faint, but didn’t dare take off her jacket. It was peach and light enough that she was convinced it would have boob and pit sweat all over it. Great. She’d just have to sweat to death.

Oh God, her makeup was probably melting, too, and she was aging before Darcy’s eyes. Their eyes. Everyone’s eyes.

“Sara suggested we give a small presentation on the politics and power of food. That’s Elizabeth’s area of expertise, so she’s going talk to you about that.”

Lizzy couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. She wanted to crawl under the table and hug herself. But once she got started, she’d be fine. She’d given this talk a thousand times, at least. She could do it again. She was a professional, dammit. A little boob-flashing was nothing. It was like him seeing her in a bathing suit.

Oh God. She would die if he saw her in a bathing suit.

“Thank you,” Lizzy said. And went blank.

That happened sometimes. She just needed to remember the script.

And nothing came.

She could see their anticipation. She bent down and pulled out her notebook, looking for a few precious seconds to regain her centre.

She could do this. She was a pro. Seriously, some bumping into a guy in a hallway should not rattle her like this.

“I am the Director of Street Services for the Faith-Hope-Love Refuge in Edmonton,” Lizzy said, “I’ve been in the role for…” How long had she been doing the job? “Several years now.”

Encouraging expressions; the look people gave when they knew you were nervous. Darcy was studying the pad of paper in front of him. He was probably going to doodle at any moment.

Oh God, everything she’d ever said about him and here she was, trying to get money out of his company. Oh, Lord, what he must think of her?

“One of the things that people don’t realize when they think of homeless people is that…” Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Her brain was still empty. This was the biggest fundraising opportunity she’d had and she was blowing it. Dear God, she was blowing it.

“People expect homeless people not to have access to food,” she managed to get out. “They expect…people to be starving and look like…starving people.”

Lizzy closed her eyes. She could do this. She could do this in her sleep.

“But you often find that homeless people come in all shapes and sizes. It’s because they have access to food, but it’s…stuff like junk. And meal programs and food banks and all those things cannot afford to offer the good stuff, so people rely on junk.”

What the hell was she trying to say?

She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry everyone. I had a collision in the hallway just before I walked in and I’m feeling rattled.” She gave an awkward chuckle. “I got the wind knocked out of me. My hands are still shaking.”

They smiled politely and Darcy glanced up. Something between pity and concern filled his eyes. She must have been doing really badly. Well, she should just tell the truth.

“I’m sorry. When I agreed to come to Pemberley to speak, I had no idea you were owned by Fitz & William. See, I’m somewhat acquainted with Mr. Darcy. We’ve met socially before, as well as at a fundraiser, so I feel like I’m breaching some kind of ethical code here unless I say that.”

The executives looked at Darcy, who nodded. “Likewise, Ms. Bennet, I didn’t realize you and the Lighthouse had partnered, and I came to hear about their programs.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bennet, for your honesty,” one of the men said. “Most people would not have spoken up,”

Lizzy smiled at him. “How about we answer some questions about homelessness and our different agencies? Even if you cannot donate to us now, I’d like to leave knowing I’d shared some information.”

“Well, I have a question,” Darcy said, smiling. “As Director of Street Services, what do you do?”

With that small helping hand, Lizzy managed to survive the meeting. For forty agonizing minutes, she answered questions on food security, poverty, the social safety net, mental illness, addiction, affordable housing, and residential schools. At least half the questions were from Darcy, who was valiantly trying to salvage her sad excuse for a lecture.

And through it all, her hands did not stop shaking. Definitely a stroke, then.

****

“Elizabeth, wait.”

Lizzy turned around to see Fanny coming out of the elevator. “Mr. Darcy’s still in his board meeting, but he wanted me to come find you. Are you free for a late lunch?”

Lizzy glanced at Melissa, who shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“Um, I guess?”

“Great, he really wants to talk to you.” There was something in Fanny’s voice that Lizzy felt had weight to it. Of course, she was probably reading too much into it. “He should be free in two hours. Did you need me to direct you to any coffee shops to work while you wait?” Fanny asked, pulling out her cell phone.

“No, I’m good.” Lizzy said with a smile. “Where should I meet him?”

“I’ll arrange something and text you. What’s your phone number?”

Lizzy gave it, and Frances entered it into her phone. She sent Lizzy a text to make sure it was correct.

“Splendid. He’ll be happy you said yes.” Fanny glanced at Lizzy. “I mean, he’s looking forward to…um, continuing your meeting today. Since you’re acquaintances.”

Lizzy gave Fanny another smile. “It was nice to meet you,
Frances
Price.”