Page 7 of President Darcy


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Her father wandered off in search of food. After a brief conversation with the president, Jane stepped away and joined Elizabeth as she observed the Bennet family from a safe distance.

Jane clutched Elizabeth’s arm in horror. “Lizzy, look!” Lydia drew a selfie stick from her purse and proceeded to buddy up next to President Darcy. His smile could best be described as zombie-like. Elizabeth groaned. By the end of the evening, the president would be commissioning a Bennet family dart board for the Oval Office. Ten points for Lydia, fifteen for Mr. Bennet, and 200 for Elizabeth right in the bullseye. Of course, why should he be any different from anyone else who had met the Bennets?

Elizabeth covered her eyes with her hand. “At least we won’t be compelled to attend another of these events.”

“At least not during this administration,” Jane agreed with a sigh.

Awed by the president, Kitty navigated her introduction rather sedately. Hallelujah. However, as their mother prattled to President Darcy, she pointed to her various daughters in different parts of the room.

“Do you think she’s explaining how our eggs are getting old?” Jane asked in a low, horrified voice.

“It’s like we’re prime breeding stock she wants to sell,” Elizabeth moaned.

Jane snorted. “I don’t think he’s in the market.”

Indeed, the president’s face had gone quite still, and he responded to their mother with fewer and fewer words. He said something to her, abruptly turned in the opposite direction, and hurried toward the dining room, Secret Service agents trailing in his wake. Their mother watched him leave with a bemused expression.

Glancing up from her conversation with Bi

ngley, Mary appeared crestfallen that she had missed her opportunity to meet the president.

“Okay, I do support his policies,” Elizabeth growled. “But the man is slime.”

“Maybe it was an emergency,” Jane said faintly.

“Right,” Elizabeth scoffed. She turned her back on the scene. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stand this.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.” She motioned toward the spectacle of Lydia taking a selfie with an unamused Secret Service agent. “And don’t you think we need to provide adult supervision?”

Elizabeth allowed her shoulders to sag. “We’re fooling ourselves if we think we’re having an effect,” she said tonelessly. “It’s probably better if we don’t know what’s happening.” She stared at the fiasco with Lydia for a moment. “Let’s go.”

Jane bit her lip. “Maybe in a little while? Bing was going to tell me about the administration’s plans to combat child hunger.” As the director of On-a-Stick’s marketing, Jane was always reaching out to children’s charities, and she served on the board for the D.C. chapter of Help Our Children Eat.

So he was “Bing” to her already? Interesting. “The president’s chief of staff wants to chat you up?”

“You know that’s an issue I care about.” Jane had a sudden, intense interest in her shoes.

“Charles Bingley seems nice, but he’s from an old-money family just like President Darcy.” The Bennets had found that old-money families tended to form a united front against the “upstart” newly wealthy like themselves. With a bad track record when it came to dating, Jane could be so easily hurt.

“I’m just talking to him about childhood hunger. Not hopping into bed with him.” Jane’s voice was sharp.

Elizabeth held up her hands. “Of course.”

In the next instant, Jane’s face lit up with a soft smile; Bing approached with an iPad at the ready. His hand landed on Jane’s elbow as he aimed a blinding smile in her direction. The man wasn’t quite as handsome as the president, but his blond surfer look was quite attractive.

Jane glanced sidelong at Elizabeth. “Go ahead. I need to visit the restroom anyway,” Elizabeth whispered in her sister’s ear.

After giving Jane a little push in Bing’s direction, Elizabeth wended her way slowly through the crowd, wishing she knew more people at the event. Although the success of her family’s company had catapulted the Bennets into the upper echelons, the old-money families often snubbed them, and Elizabeth usually preferred the company of people like her coworkers. Unfortunately that often left her isolated at events like this.

Perhaps I should just be thankful I’m not hiding in the broom closet or on the receiving end of the president’s glare.

At least she could escape to the restroom. Getting to the “ladies’ lounge” required crossing to the opposite side of the entrance hall and traversing a short hallway. Decorated in shades of peach and cream, the room boasted frilly curtains, little baskets of toiletries on the sink, and cloth towels. This early in the event it was blissfully deserted, allowing Elizabeth to sink gratefully onto a small padded bench near the door. Taking deep breaths, she tried to relax muscles that were tied into one big knot after two encounters with the president.

Alas, the quiet was short-lived. As Elizabeth washed her hands, Lydia entered, accompanied by her “bestie” Maria Lucas, Walter’s daughter. The minute Lydia glimpsed Elizabeth, her voice dissolved into high-pitched squeals. “Ohmygod, Lizzy. Did you come to the ladies’ room alone?” She shuffled a little closer and sniffed. “Why do you smell like cleaning supplies? You are so weird.”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth, reminding herself that she loved Lydia and did not want to drop her sister’s phone in the toilet.

Lydia had already moved on to a new topic. “Did you see me with the president? I took a selfie with him!” She waved her phone in Elizabeth’s face. “Although I didn’t get the best angle. I think it makes my nose look big. Don’t you think it makes my nose look big? And my dress really is a brighter shade than it looks in the picture. But still…it’s the president!”

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