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eave this party. If you’ll excuse me.” Before Darcy could say anything, Elizabeth had jumped to her feet and was briskly walking away.
He watched as she paused on the other side of the pool to talk with Charlie and Jane. Surely those words were directed at Caroline, not him. She wasn’t lumping him in with Caroline, right? Elizabeth understood that he was different. He had done the charity program after all—and he wanted to leave the party, too.
Maybe what I really want is to be more like Elizabeth Bennet.
Caroline smirked. “That’s the most pathetic case of denial I’ve ever seen.” She took a sip of her drink. “But I suppose it makes it easier for her to polish that halo.”
Her words sank in with a bit of relief. Of course, Elizabeth wasn’t rejecting this life—wasn’t rejecting him. She was just trying to preserve her ego. He had met actors before who would claim that they didn’t need fame and fortune; they were just doing it for “the love of the craft.” But he hadn’t seen anyone yet turn down a million-dollar paycheck.
Still, Elizabeth deserved to be defended. “But I’m glad there’s somebody doing stuff like that. Kids like Garrett obviously need help.”
Caroline flicked a piece of lint off her swimsuit. “Don’t succumb to the guilt trip. You’ve already done enough. It’s not like Beth really cared if you mentor some queer kid.”
Darcy frowned. “What do you mean?”
Caroline regarded him over the rim of her sunglasses. “Are you kidding, Will? Don’t you notice how she drools over you? Someone should buy her a bib. She’s just hoping you’ll spend more time with her. It’s not about the kids; it’s about her.” She slid her sunglasses up to cover her eyes. “Rather pathetic, really.”
That did make sense. Women flirted with him. Maybe Elizabeth was just being less obvious about it. She had a crush; she flirted. Maybe she was angry that Will didn’t return her interest.
He rolled his shoulders and sighed. At least this was familiar territory. He’d given the “I just want to be friends” speech to countless women.
Why did the thought of giving it to Elizabeth make him feel so…hollow?
Caroline flipped onto her stomach. “Will you put some sunscreen on my back? I don’t want to burn.”
Darcy couldn’t think of a good reason to say no.
***
Elizabeth was sick of Hollywood, sick of the people, sick of the stupid parties. Every time she thought that maybe someone might be a decent person, Hollywood threw that belief back in her face. Why was she still hoping? She wasn’t at all sure that a decent person like Jane could be happy in the viper-filled swamp of the movie industry.
She hadn’t actually expected that Caroline Bingley would suddenly develop a conscience, but William Darcy had shown occasional sparks of human decency. Maybe that had been an act. Now he seemed once more preoccupied with his own importance.
In her hurry to leave the pool deck, she slammed her way past bikini-clad beauties and lounge chairs that seemed to have multiplied. It was frustrating. If you tried to help others, you’re a do-gooder; if you mind your own business, you’re selfish and elitist.
Elizabeth wasn’t naïve. She obviously couldn’t solve the problem of homelessness, but she did believe they could improve the lives of a few kids. Will and Caroline acted like she was a fool for believing it. And Elizabeth let them. She didn’t know if she was angrier at them or at herself.
Although it was clear that Jane and Charlie had some Very Important Making Out to do, Elizabeth had thanked her host and told her sister she was leaving. She was now free to make her desperate getaway from the kind of glamorous Hollywood party that people dreamed about.
To her left, an attractive, well-built actor was standing on a pool chair yelling, “I’m the king of the world!” and pouring beer over his head. So much glamour.
The problem was William Darcy, she mused. He scoffed at the “crap” in the screenplay, and yet she still expected him to be better than a world-revolves-around-me asshole. Sorry, Will Darcy, I must have confused you with Eric Thorne. Now I realize you’re not a decent human being; you just play one in the movies.
Why did Will Darcy always put her so off-balance? At times he was almost likeable, and she could imagine becoming his friend. At other times she wanted to kick him in the shins.
There was no mystery about why she liked him. He was gorgeous, with dark hair, lips that promised secrets, and blue eyes that seemed to see all the way to her soul. It was simply magnetism and hormones. Cultural programming and a cute butt.
Which was like walking into a field of land mines for Elizabeth. Having a woman like her find him attractive was nothing to Darcy. He probably didn’t even notice. But Elizabeth…she had to be extremely cautious where she stepped. Otherwise, she’d be so dazzled by his beauty and charm that soon she’d be at the bottom of a crater, a pile of broken bones.
He was so dangerous they should swathe him in caution tape.
All right, she vowed, I’ll be more careful. I’ll avoid him. I’ll deal with him on a strictly professional level. I won’t ignore the warning signs.
Elizabeth yanked open one of the French doors, wishing she could leave immediately, but she should check on Lydia. God knows her sister wouldn’t appreciate it, but she really shouldn’t be left to her own devices in this environment.
Elizabeth quickly spotted her, turning away from the bar with two more drinks in her hands. Thank God George isn’t around. “Is that more whiskey?” she asked. “Lydia, don’t you think you should slow down?”
Lydia’s bloodshot eyes focused on Elizabeth briefly. “It’s scotch…Scottish scotch. You know, I thought I wouldn’t like this stotch scuff…scotch stuff”—she giggled—“but the more I drink it, the better it gets. I think I’m developing a taste for it.”
