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Resolutely, she wrenched her thoughts back to the current dilemma. Why had he picked her for this dubious honor? Couldn’t he tell that she didn’t really like him? But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He actually thought I had a crush on him. Maybe she had been giving off mixed signals. Maybe he noticed longing in her eyes. I must have done something—
No, this is not on me, she told herself firmly. This is on him. Maybe I thought he was attractive, but I never even hinted that I was available. He thought I’d be so grateful for an opportunity to go on a date with him—to sleep with him—that he didn’t need to bother to be pleasant or speak to me like a human being.
She’d rather be single for the rest of her life than date someone with so little respect for her.
Feeling a little better about her decision, Elizabeth raised her head, idly watching people hurrying around the studio lot. She needed to get back to Buildin
g 4.
This sucked. Now she and Will would be awkward around each other. He might even try to get her fired. She’d hate to leave the movie, but if it came down to a choice, she knew who her father would choose. Nausea roiled her stomach.
Movie stars really did get the best of everything. Will could flirt like he breathed, have women fall at his feet, and not worry that he’d be fired if things went south. He didn’t need to suffer a moment’s concern that a quick fling would leave him heartbroken and alone.
Annnd now she was back to being angry at Will. She embraced the rage; it pushed out the other emotions, particularly anxious thoughts that she might have made a mistake.
When her phone buzzed, she pulled it out to see a text from Roberta: Where are you? I needed those papers two hours ago.
Oh yeah. Three urgent things she needed to do in the next hour. Maybe she should focus more energy on not losing her job and less on her personal life. She pushed Will from her mind and headed for the script supervisor’s office.
Thank God principal filming was nearly finished. Afterward she would never need to see William Darcy again.
***
That evening Elizabeth was trying to muster the concentration to work on med school applications when an email popped up in her inbox. When she saw the sender’s name, she nearly sent it to the trash, but a combination of curiosity and lingering guilt compelled her to read it.
Hello Elizabeth,
Don’t worry, I’m not going to importune you once more about joining me for a date. I understand your position on that matter quite clearly. However, I do want to set the record straight. When you mentioned my treatment of Wickham, I was so flabbergasted that I didn’t know what to say, but it’s important to me that you know the truth.
I don’t know what Wickham told you about my family, and it probably doesn’t matter. All I can do is tell you what actually happened. My family was close to Wickham’s family when I was growing up. My father had invested in a chain of health clubs operated by Wickham’s father, and they became friends. Wickham was particularly close to my sister, Georgiana, since they were close in age.
And then—when she was fifteen and he was sixteen—we discovered he was giving her drugs. Opioids. He was selling them at his fancy prep school and had gotten Georgiana hooked so she’d be one of his regular customers—all while telling her that he loved her.
When I learned the truth, I punched him. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have been the better man. But I can’t bring myself to regret it. I warned him to stay away from Georgiana and my family. I shared what I had discovered with my father, who confronted Wickham’s father, but he defended his son and denied everything. My father withdrew from their partnership, and Wickham senior blamed him for the collapse of the chain and subsequent bankruptcy. I don’t know if that’s true since I understand that the clubs were having financial difficulty before this occurred.
My parents sent Georgiana to a residential treatment facility where she got clean. After intensive therapy, she began to understand that Wickham had been using her as a quick and easy source of money. She’s had some difficulties since then, but she’s doing well now.
I wanted my parents to have Wickham arrested, but unsurprisingly they couldn’t agree what to do. They don’t agree about much except that they both want to avoid negative publicity. I don’t know if Wickham is still selling drugs, but I wish my parents had reported him.
Over the years, Wickham has told all sorts of lies about my family. We haven’t said anything because Georgiana is mortified by her struggles with addiction. Unlike the rest of the family, she doesn’t relish the limelight, and she’s terrified at the thought of losing her privacy.
So rather than confronting Wickham, I have simply tried to avoid him.
I cannot defend myself from the other charges you leveled against me. I should not have made those remarks about you to Charlie. They were thoughtless and cruel—and worse, untrue. You are one of the prettiest and most interesting people I have ever met, and I find myself more intrigued every time I see you. I never intended to hurt you, but that is hardly an excuse.
Then I made the egotistical assumption that you were infatuated with me, and a great many egregious errors were the result.
For what it is worth, I think you will make a wonderful doctor. Please accept my best wishes for your future.
William Darcy.
After reading the email several times, Elizabeth slumped into the sofa, staring at the laptop and trying to make sense of the new information. How could she have been so mistaken about George’s character? And Will’s? She had always prided herself on her discernment, but it had failed her badly when it came to both men. She would never have suspected that George was the kind of person who would deliberately get someone addicted to opioids. Nor would she have expected such brutal honesty from William Darcy, no matter the provocation.
What else have I been egregiously mistaken about?
When Jane returned home from her run, Elizabeth was still immobile on the sofa. “What’s wrong, Lizzy?”
Too emotional to speak, Elizabeth merely gestured for her sister to read the email. “Wow!” Jane breathed when she was finished. “That story about George…is it possible it’s all a mistake?”
