First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice Read online

  “Power ballads are also acceptable,” Mary called out. “R&B as well.”

  “Oo,” Jane said, “and the older jazz singers like Ella Fitzgerald.”

  “Michael Bolton!” Lizzy exclaimed to a flood of laughter from her sisters.

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “You are all so not with the times.”

  “I’m not the one playing some washed-up thirteen-year-old’s music.” Lizzy said, as she pushed, weaved, and waved her way through the house, Lydia in tow.

  Lydia stopped prancing to whirl on her sister. “G’Anna, also known as Georgiana de Bourgh-Darcy, retired from music at eighteen. No one knows why and it apparently cost her millions to get out of her contracts. They suspect it was totally because of her mother’s death. I think it was drugs.”

  Upon Jane’s arrival in the living room, several offered up their seats and the eldest Bennet sisters took a loveseat with thanks. Luke settled on the floor near Lizzy’s feet, and Mary squatted beside him, pulling out her cell phone.

  “You don’t even know my birthday, but you know the real name of a pop princess?”

  “That’s because I care about her,” Lydia snapped back, though she had a laugh in her voice.

  “Touching,” Luke commented.

  Lydia flounced off into the kitchen, ignoring him. “Hi Charles! I want you to meet my sisters!”

  A moment later, Lydia returned with two men in tow. One was average height and good-looking, with dark, aboriginal features and a wide smile. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, his braided hair hung over one shoulder and he had enough muscle to bench-press an armoured car.

  “This is Jane, my oldest sister, and this is Lizzy.” Lydia frowned. “My sister Mary is…oh there she is. Jane, Lizzy, this is Charles Bingley, Denny’s cousin.”

  They exchanged greetings and Lizzy found herself liking this Charles Bingley and his broad shoulders. There was genuine warmth about him that Lizzy approved of instantly.

  “This is my friend, Darcy,” he said.

  Behind Charles loitered a taller man, more handsome than the rich cousin, but far less friendly-looking. He was in a blue button-up dress shirt and dark dress pants. His conservative haircut matched the outfit and his light skin had a touch of sunburn, like he’d just gotten back from a beach vacation.

  “Good day, Darcy,” Lizzy said. “Are you from Edmonton?”

  “No.”

  Charles glanced at him with amusement. “Darcy lives in Calgary, like me. He’s up here for business. I decided to housesit for a friend whose condo is being renovated while she’s away, and hey, it’s Denny’s wedding soon and I haven’t seen him in a while. It all works out.”

  Lizzy smiled and turned to Darcy; he seemed the type of person who needed encouragement to talk around strangers. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your last name. Darcy…?”

  “William Darcy,” he replied coldly. “My friends call me Darcy.”

  “Then what do strangers call you?” Lizzy grinned.

  “Mr. Darcy.”

  The laugh in her voice died abruptly. So, not shy. Just an ass. Well, she could play along. “Well, then, Mr. Darcy, I hope to one day achieve friend status.”

  Charles burst into laughter. “She got you.”

  This Mr. Darcy glanced around as though he needed to be rescued by one of his no-doubt large fleet of servants.

  “Don’t take offence,” Charles said, still laughing. “Darcy hates parties.”

  Lizzy remained skeptical, but let it pass.

  “Lizzy, can you help me? It’s hard to move in this seat.” Jane’s shoe had slipped off.

  “Sure.” Lizzy bent down to help slip the shoe back on. Jane’s sock had caught on the inside of the shoe, so Lizzy adjusted it. “I keep meaning to drive you to get a new one. This shoe is dead, Jim.”

  Jane grinned at the Star Trek reference, but said nothing. Her cheeks were flushed. Lizzy realized that she might’ve just made Jane uncomfortable in front of Charles, who, until now, had been exchanging a number of smiles with her.

  “My sister says women love shoe shopping.” Charles said. “She says it’s a universal truth.”

  Jane didn’t look up, her cheeks turning redder. Lydia huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at Charles.

  “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, clearly confused.

  Lizzy was about to answer, but Jane stopped her. She offered Charles a soft smile. “They’re trying to figure out how to tell you I only have one leg.”

  Several expressions flashed across Charles’ face before embarrassment won the battle. “Oh.” He grimaced. “I was trying to be…funny.” He looked down at her leg, then away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  Lizzy took a deep breath. “So, Mr. Darcy, what is it that you do? I don’t believe you said.”

  Darcy cleared his throat. “I—”

  “It’s fine. I’m not offended.” Jane pulled up her pant leg above her sock until the peachy shell of her false leg was visible. “I’ve had it for six years now. I’m mostly used to it, but my sisters are overprotective, especially Lizzy.”

  “I am not overprotective.” Lizzy turned to Charles. “People react strangely sometimes and I don’t like to see anyone upset my sister.”

  “That just means you’re a good sister. Are those special shoes to wear indoors?”

  Jane nodded, giving him another smile. “I tried going without them once, but I slipped and fell down the stairs. I don’t like to be without them now.”

  Lizzy leaned towards Charles and said sotto voce, “What she’s trying to say is that she scared me so bad that I won’t let her go without them.”

  Everyone laughed except Mr. Darcy, who looked as if he was about to be sent to the gallows. Why on earth would he come to a party if he didn’t want to speak to anyone? Lizzy couldn’t understand people like that. But at least most of the tension has been dispelled, and Charles, eager to please, sat down on the loveseat arm next to Jane and peppered her with questions about prosthetics and shoes.

  Another G’Anna song blasted from the speakers, drowning out the conversation.

  “Lydia, can’t you play something else? This is an engagement party, not a freaking prom.”

  “It’s not my fault you have no taste, Lizzy. The Battle is Over is like the best love song ever.”

  “Actually,” Mr. Darcy piped up, “I believe G’Anna’s best love song, and therefore the best love song ever, is What If You Stayed.”

  They turned to him, including Lizzy, who couldn’t help her slack-jawed expression.

  Darcy cleared his throat, his cheeks flushed. “G’Anna is my sister.”

  Lydia’s shrieks pierced the sound barrier, as she lunged at Darcy. Poor Mr. Darcy cringed as Lydia jumped around him, grabbing his shirt, rambling incoherently about G’Anna’s greatness and could he get his sister to come to Edmonton so that they could meet because OH MY GOD they would be perfect best friends and OH!! OH!! They could hang out on commercial sets and they could totally start a girl band and have epic adventures and have a reality show based on their lives and…

  “Lydia!” Mom called from the kitchen. “Stop screeching! This isn’t a hockey game!”

  “For God’s sake, leave the poor man alone.” Lizzy tugged on her sister’s shirt. “Lydia, seriously, stop. You’re scaring him.”

  “Oh my God, Lizzy! This is G’Anna’s brother! Here! Right now!”

  “Lydia, stop it this instant,” Jane chided.

  “Mom, tell Lydia to leave Darcy alone!” Mary shouted. “Lydia, he looks like a deer in the headlights.”

  “I don’t,” Darcy said, squaring his shoulders.

  Charles gave him a once-over. “Ya kinda do, man.”

  Mom came out of the kitchen, huffing. “What the devil is going on, girls? Stop acting like a bunch of savages.” She looked at Charles and amended, “Oh, I wasn’t making a comment about your people.”

  “Thanks,” Charles said dryly.

  Lizzy let out a long sigh and closed her eyes.

  “Mom!” Jane exclaimed. “You can’t say those things.”

  “Don’t give me that look, Jane Bennet. Charles Bingley knows I didn’t mean anything by it. Now, what’s all this fussing?”

  “Lydia is bugging Darcy.”

  “Now, Lydia, come on. Leave the poor man alone. He’s too old for you. Let your sisters flirt with him instead. Come and help with the sandwiches.”

  Lydia gushed for another thirty seconds before being removed to the kitchen by her mother.

  “Sorry, Mr. Darcy. She’s a big fan.”

  “Clearly.”

  And that was all the response he gave to being jumped on by Lydia.

  With Lydia’s disappearance and Charles’s focus on Jane, Lizzy was left to sit observing his pained expression.

  A few minutes later, Lydia came back. “Mary, can you go to the shoot with me tomorrow? It’s our last day filming and Mom can’t go now.”

  Mary looked up from her phone. “It’s not in my appointment calendar, so no.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mary! Mom has to cancel and Dad is busy with the store. I have to be there by nine and I need a chaperone. Come on! You know they won’t let me on set otherwise.”

  “Plan better next time,” Mary said and went back to her phone.

  “What’s the problem?” Charles asked.

  The responses from the three sisters came at the same time and showed their differing opinions:

  Lizzy: “Lydia’s filming a commercial for—”

  Jane: “Lydia’s an actress who—”

  Mary: “Lydia thinks she’s an actress.”

  “I don’t think I’m an actress, you moron, I am one.”

  Mary lifted an eyebrow.

  “Give me a ride tomorrow.”

  “Who’s a moron?”

  Charles and Jane exchanged more smiles and he asked, “Why does she need someone there?”

  “Collective agreement,” Mary supplied, “Lydia’s fifteen.”

  “Almost sixteen!”

  “Almost sixteen, also known as still fifteen. She has to have someone on set with her. She’s supposed to arrange this beforehand.”

  “I was busy helping with this party! Lizzy, you can do it, right?”

  “Sorry, I’m busy.”

  “Oh, come on! You don’t need to be at work until four.”

  “I’m sorry, Lydia. I have a breakfast meeting to convince rich people to give me their money, since I deserve it more than them.” She glanced at Charles. “No offence.”

  “None taken. You probably do deserve it. Don’t you run a charity or something? I think that’s what Denny said.”

  “You think rich people don’t deserve their money?” Mr. Darcy interrupted.

  Lizzy crossed her arms. If he really was the pop princess’ brother, then this guy was filthy, stinky, old-world rich. “I think rich people don’t need their money nearly as much as I do.”

  “So, your needs are greater?” Darcy’s body language was unreadable.

  Lizzy knew she was heading into fight territory, but she couldn’t stand rich people like this William Darcy who thought themselves so much better because they were lucky enough to win the privilege lottery.

  “It’s my job to convince them to give me money so that they can brag to their friends about it over fifty-dollar steaks later that night.”

  “That’s your opinion of your potential donors?”

  “Lizzy, ugh, drop it already. Nobody cares,” Lydia said. “Come on, I need someone to take me. This is important.”

  “Can I drop her off?” Charles said. They all turned to him. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow.”

  “No, you can’t.” Lydia made a disgusted sound.

  “It needs to be one of us,” Jane explained. “Because of her age, Mom and Dad have to fill out forms for each filming, saying who can be on set, if they can’t.”

  “And Jane won’t drive anymore.” Lydia complained.

  “Lydia!” Lizzy said, “Enough.”

  “Well, she won’t! And she can totally take that course to learn.”

  “Not by tomorrow morning, she can’t,” Mary commented.

  “Lydia, mind your own business,” Jane said firmly. “Mary, don’t egg your sister on.”

  “I could bring you, too, if you aren’t working,” Charles said softly.

  Jane’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t live at home, so you’d be making a couple of trips.”

  “I got nothing else to do tomorrow but watch plumbers install pipes.” Charles shrugged. “Why don’t I pick you up first, then? We can get your sister, drop her off at her shoot, and then get a latte?”

  “I’d like that.” Turning to Darcy, she asked, “Did you want to join us?”

  “No, thank you. I have a breakfast meeting.”

  They chatted on like that for the rest of the evening — Darcy saying little and Charles saying lots, Jane smiling and blushing. Lizzy couldn’t help but smile; her sister had a breakfast date with a handsome, rich man who didn’t care that she was big these days, missing a leg or shy. He just liked her the way she was. Lizzy thought that might never happen to Jane.

  ****

  The Bennets stayed behind to help clean up after the party, and since Jane Bennet was staying, that meant Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome stayed, too. Sadly, that meant Mr. Monarch of the Doom and Gloom also stayed. Lizzy decided that Darcy had probably never cleaned up after himself, let alone someone else, and she was interested in seeing him get his hands dirty.

  Jane and Lydia were on food collection, while Mary and Mrs. Bennet focused on dishes. Luke and Denny concentrated on cleaning up the mess, and Maria was freaking out over getting married.

  Mary shoved recycling and garbage bags at Charles and Darcy and instructed them to, “Put it somewhere not in the middle of the living room.”

  Lydia added, “Duh.”

  Lizzy collected the leftover cans of pop and stuffed them back into their boxes. “Mrs. Charlotte, where do you want these?”

  “The garage, Lizzy, please,” Mrs. Charlotte called from the kitchen.

  Mary stacked the boxes in Lizzy’s arms and she headed outside. At the corner to the garage, she overheard Charles speaking:

  “Dude, seriously, admit it. She’s hot.”

  “She smiles too much.”

  Lizzy rolled her eyes. Leave it to Darcy to be the buzz kill.

  “You are such a buzz kill,” Charles said and it took all of Lizzy’s control not to snort. “Hey, you should ask Lizzy out to your breakfast thing tomorrow. She’d love that.”

  “You want me to hang out with the plain one?”

  Lizzy sucked in a breath. Did he just call her the plain one? Lizzy wasn’t model gorgeous, but she certainly wasn’t plain. Asshole!

  “You’re thinking about the other one. Lizzy’s the one that works at the—”

  “I know which one is Lizzy. She’s decent, I suppose, but why would I be interested in spending time with her? I have better things to do than hang out with an argumentative woman who’s clearly meant for manual labour and not much else.”

  “Are you sure you’re not gay? Dude, Lizzy is fine. Not like Jane, but still pretty.”

  She heard their footsteps and decided to start walking. She rounded the corner and Charles halted. Darcy paled, no doubt horror-stricken by her plainness.

  “Oh! Lizzy!” Charles said in a higher voice than usual. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Sorry to sneak up on you,” Lizzy said with a wide grin. She walked around them without another word.

  “Um, oh, let me help you with those.”

  Lizzy answered without looking back. “No necessary, Charles. My Dad always said I was built for manual labour.”

  “Shit,” Charles muttered.

  “Oh, when you’re done,” Lizzy said, ignoring the shit comment, and Darcy’s shitty comment, “can you both give Lydia a hand? She’s loading decorations into our van.”

  When the men walked away, Lizzy turned to watch them. Well, as much as the pompous William Asshat Darcy thought she was nothing special, she didn’t see anything amazing coming from him, either.

  Arg, what a jerk!

  Chapter 3

  “A breakfast date with Charles Bingley, Lottery Heir.” Lizzy said as they climbed the short flight of stairs to their side entrance.

  Jane laughed and handed her keys to Lizzy, who was fumbling for hers. “It was nice of him to offer to look after Lydia.”

  Lizzy unlocked the door and the sisters walked inside. “He was looking for an excuse to spend time with you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you all evening.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up, Lizzy. Nothing may come of it.”

  Lizzy stared at her eldest sister and said, “Jane Bennet, a man worth several million dollars can have any woman he wants, any time he wants. He, my dear, picked you. I was eavesdropping. He called you hot. He likes you.”

  “When you put it like that, it does seem like a compliment, doesn’t it?” Jane smiled and it did Lizzy good to see it. “I have no idea why I deserve that compliment, but I’m happy to get it.”

  “That’s the difference between us. Compliments and attention take you by surprise, and me never.”

  Jane laughed.

  “I can’t believe Charles is friends with someone like Darcy!” Lizzy said. “I’ve never seen two people more different in my life. Sorry. Mr. Darcy, since we aren’t friends.”

  “Charles told me Darcy is very shy.” Jane hung her coat up in the closet, walked over to her wheelchair and lowered herself in. “I don’t believe he meant to insult you.”

  “You’re seriously going to defend him?” Lizzy crossed her arms and glared, though half-heartedly. “Jane, come on. Even you can’t. Not with him.”

  Jane popped off her leg and peeled off the rubber sock that covered her stump. “I’ve wanted to scratch all evening. This thing is getting too tight. I need to lose weight or get a bigger one.”

  Lizzy ceased glaring long enough to fetch Jane a bottle of lotion from their tiny kitchen counter.

  “Thanks. And, yes, I am defending Darcy. If he’s as shy as Charles says, it might be that he doesn’t give the best first impression. Give him a chance.