Page 11 of Ardently Yours

Lizzie blinks, narrowing her eyes at me. “What, no ‘Boss Lady’ this time?” She takes the paper towel and wipes her nose.

“You’re always gonna be Boss Lady to me,” I say, unable to take another step closer to her. I couldn’t risk it… I didn’t want to feel whatever I felt when we hugged. But I do care if she is okay. “And I’m serious, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, Will,” she says sincerely. She turns around to throw out her paper towel and to wash her hands at the sink. She moves so fast that it leaves me standing there wondering what just happened.

I try to follow her lead, since she seems to want to move past the moment. She grabs her journal from the counter and takes a seat at one of the stools. I wash my hands and begin making a batch of donuts to add to the display case. I decide to go the nonchalant route. I ask her, “You’ve got two different guys fighting for your attention in one day? How does it feel to be so popular?”

“Are you jealous, Darcy?” she asks, her back to me.

“Of all the drama you’ve got going on? I don’t think so.”

“For your information, I don’t have a lot of drama going on. Drama found me today. I did not choose drama. I never do. But the two guys you’re speaking of are not fighting for my attention. Billie is fighting for Mama’s attention, but he already has it. And George Wickham is… I don’t know. I guess we’ll see…”

“How have I been your friend for months now and I didn’t know that you had all this guy drama?”

“Once again, I do not have any guy drama. I have an ex-fiancé and a solution to my lack of a wedding date problem.”

I place a tray of caramel-glazed donuts in the oven and ask, “You’re taking that police officer to the wedding?”

“That police officer has a name.” She stands, walking over to peer inside of a cabinet. She rearranges some spices for drinks, always finding a reason to reorganize something. “And Wickham is obviously interested in me, so I might ask him to come with me to the wedding.”

“Do you want my opinion?”

“Are you trying to coach me on my love life, Darcy? Since when are you so into romance?”

“As your fake boyfriend for a moment in time today and as your friend, I think you can do better than Billie and Wickham. Wickham seems kind of flirty, and that may mean that he is sincere, but also may mean that he’s trouble. And if you need a wedding date, we could always go together as friends. I can help make your ex-fiancé jealous and maybe get your mom off your back.”

“Wait, do you really think Wickham is just a flirt?”

I hear the hesitation in her voice. She looks as if she’s rethinking all of her interactions with him. I am trying not to be bothered because she is only concerned about Wickham after everything I just said.

Though I really am concerned about her when it comes to him. He stopped by often, flirting with her or asking me or Wolfsheim about her if she isn’t at the register. I’ve also seen him flirt with other women when Lizzie wasn’t at the register.

To Lizzie, I say, “I think Wickham seems like a guy who wants a good time, not a long time. He’s the type you might go on a date with, but not someone you take seriously. He’s a flirt. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Aww,” she says, closing a cabinet nearby. “You care about me, Darcy.”

“Of course I care about you, Boss Lady.”

“Wait a minute!” she exclaims, making me turn to look at her. “You’re a genius.”

“I know that I am, but why do you think I am?”

“Darcy, keep up. You are totally right. I want to convince Mama that I’m happy so that she can leave me alone. I’m not saying that I’m looking for my husband right now because, honestly, I don’t even feel like dealing with that. But if I can get a date to the wedding, Mama will be satisfied, and Billie might leave town and never come back. I mean, you pretending to be my boyfriend earlier was the perfect save. Thanks, by the way. But no one will actually believe that we’re together. But, me and Wickham? He has to be the right guy. He can’t just be a flirt. But if he is, my heart’s already broken, so what else can he do to me?”

“You really think you and I can’t pull off a fake relationship?” I ask Lizzie, playfully challenging her to hide the pang of hurt I feel.

“We don’t even like each other, Darcy.” She narrows her eyes at me, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

I step closer, and she backs into the counter. She holds her breath. I hold mine too. I lift her chin up gently.

Leaning down, I whisper into her ear, “Are you sure about that? I think we can make it look real.”

And I don’t know what makes me do it. It could have been the way she dismissed the idea of us. Or maybe I just wanted to be close to her again, but I can’t tell her that.

“Darcy, stop playing,” she laughs, swatting at me, hand landing on my chest.

The laugh dies on her lips. Her expression changes when I don’t laugh. I can’t laugh. I don’t know what has gotten into me. Why are we standing here, bodies close, holding our breath?