“Half the town will know about us soon.” Including my parents, which didn’t matter since I was an adult, but neither of them was Darcy’s biggest fan after hearing what he’d said about me at the club.
“Us?” Darcy raised an eyebrow.
“I mean this.” I fought off a flush and raised our interlocked hands.
Darcy sighed but kept his head high. I wasn’t sure he even knew how to be unobtrusive. “Then we should figure out what we’re going to tell people about why we’retogether and always holding hands even though…” He trailed off and pressed his lips together. “Maybe we should just tell people we’re dating.”
“What?” I stumbled to a halt.
Darcy stopped next to me. “I think it’s our best option at this point. If we act suspicious, that’ll draw even more attention to our situation. At least this way we can stay on top of the gossip.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He seemed pretty confident about how to spin a story to his benefit and handle situations. Another piece to add to the puzzle that was Darcy.
“All right.” A chill breeze whipped down the street and rustled the leaves overhead.
“All right?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What? Did you want an argument or something?”
“I don’t want it, but I was expecting it.”
“I’ll do my best to be more contrary next time.”
His lips twitched, but he said nothing until we made it to the front door of the Sanditon Chronicle. Darcy stopped short, yanking me to a halt next to him. “This is where you work?” His voice was low and hard.
“Um, yes?”
“You’re a reporter?”
“Does that surprise you?”
He gave me a long look, then sighed and held the door open. “I guess it explains your nosiness.”
“Someone has to get to the bottom of things.” I stepped inside and headed to the elevator. It opened a moment later, and we stepped in, giving us a momentary bubble of privacy. “Speaking of, I never did ask what you and Easton were arguing about that night in the yard.”
“It was nothing. A trivial discussion about a woman.”
“A woman?”
Darcy rolled his eyes. “Yes, a woman. Despite what Charles says, I do know a few.”
I ignored how that statement made my stomach twinge. “So was it Easton’s girlfriend or yours?”
“Easton didn’t have a girlfriend—trust me, I’ve already looked into it.”
“Oh.” I peeked at him.
“And neither do I,” he said. Before I could figure out the correct response to that, he continued. “Easton was my bodyguard, but sometimes—”
“Yourbodyguard? I thought the bodyguards were for the Bingleys.”
“That’s what we wanted everyone to think.” Darcy sighed and raked a hand through his hair.
“Why?”
The door opened with a quiet ding. I shot Darcy a regretful look, and he squeezed my hand. It felt like a silent promise that we would get back to it later.
The familiar click of keyboards and the scent of coffee greeted me as we stepped out of the elevator, and I wrapped it around me like armor. I was a journalist, and I was going to find the truth. With one door closed, that meant I was that much closer to opening the right door. Surely the two of us together could figure out what happened.
