Dangerous Curves

Chapter One

In the fading light of the setting winter sun, William Darcy sat at the desk of his spacious corner office, head leaned forward, fingers massaging his temples, praying for the phone to ring and bring some excuse to back out of his plans for the evening. Minutes passed, no saving ring came, and his eyes were torturously drawn back to his leather bound appointment book, where he read again the inscription for that evening.

Friday, eight p.m., Desani's. Damn.

He had just that afternoon confided in Charles that he finally had a break in his contract negotiations with a leading Russian oil refinery. It was his hope to jump into the fast growing Russian oil market and bring D and F Utilities to Eastern Europe, thus pumping some much needed money into the struggling Russian economy while getting on the ground floor of a hopefully very lucrative side venture. So far, it was a nightmare dealing with all the red tape and various ministers of various departments who each needed their own contracts and "fees paid for services rendered". Just this week his staff had finished the last round of contract rewrites and he had a good three days of peace and quiet while the Russians looked over his newest offerings before it all started again. He was really looking forward to the time off. How stupid of him to tell Charles he was free. Now he was roped into an evening of pretentious cuisine and Caroline Bingley. Oh joy, oh bliss.

Desani's, exclusivism at its finest, featured a chic menu of the haute-cuisine of the moment; tapas. And Caroline Bingley loved nothing as much as she loved the word exclusive. Charles had invited William to dinner tonight to celebrate the illustrious return of the grand dame herself from her month long vacation in some tropical clime. She had requested that Charles and his wife of three years, Jane, meet her at Desani's for dinner and to catch up on old times. And wouldn't Charles be a dear and invite sweet William to round out the party, hmmm? So, call he did, knowing that William was too much of a gentleman to decline. And so he was, and here he sat, praying to the great phone god to save his eternal soul from the fiery hell of Caroline Bingley's attentions.

Nothing.

Damn.

Eight fifteen found the group of four intimately situated around the best table in the house, overlooking a room that screamed ATMOSPHERE with Fosse hands. William looked over the rim of his glass of scotch at Charles and his beautiful wife. That man had luck in his genes. Happily married to an intelligent woman very much in love with him, successful in business thanks as much to who he knew as to what he knew, and in possession of a best friend on whom to throw his harpie-like sister when she became a nuisance. Trouble rolled off Charles Bingley's back like water from a duck's. It must have been passed down from his great great grandfather, Bingley McShamus, who began his early adult life in the custody of Inveraray Jail in Scotland for having a bit of trouble with sticky fingers. After a month of incarceration, McShamus decided that he wanted a fresh start. And so, with a spoon and a bit of elbow grease, three weeks later he found himself free and on a boat to America. Ellis Island greeted him as a new man, Shawn Bingley. Finding employment at a leather goods shop, he put his back into his work and within three years had a shop of his own. After five years he was proud owner of three more shops. Now, after more than one hundred years, the Bingley family owned the largest chain of specialty imports in the country. Shawn's original leather goods shops had been expanded by his son to include specialty items, and each son there after had added to the inventory and franchise until it encompassed the entire nation. Charles himself, after taking over for his father eight years ago, had signed a deal to have a Bingley's Emporium in every upscale shopping center in the country. His business had tripled over the last five years. At the age of thirty he was one of the richest men in the country.

"William, Charles tells me you have been working far too hard. You must clear your schedule for a few days and let me pamper you a bit. You look positively worn." Caroline's simpering broke through William's reverie. A noncommittal smile was all the answer Caroline received. But she was not one to be put off. Her mouth opened again to pressure him for some sort of commitment, when the chirping of a cell phone cut her off. Caroline's disapproving eyes hovered on Jane's sheepish face, as she reached into her purse to retrieve the offending object. "Sorry." Jane turned her shoulder away from the group and answered the call.

"Hello, Jane Bingley."

"Janeybird."

Jane gasped, loudly. "Lizzy?"

"Yes, its me. Alive and kicking."

Tears instantly welled up in Jane's eyes and she had to choke back the sobs "Oh, Oh!" was all she could get out.

"Where are you right now, Janie?"

"I'm at Desani's," she squeaked.

"Okay," was the reply followed by a click.

"Hello, hello, Lizzy!" Jane was frantic. She turned her troubled eyes to Charles who gleaned some of what happened from her end of the conversation.

"Lizzy?"

"Yes, but she's gone. I'll wait a minute to see if she calls back."

Charles explained to William and Caroline that Jane had not heard from her sister in three years, because of the nature of Elizabeth Bennet's job.

"What does she do, Jane?" William enquired politely. Jane's distraction was evident, and after a few hems and haws Charles answered for her. "We really aren't sure. Something with computers." William was a bit shocked that her own sister wouldn't know what she did for a living, and Caroline could barely feign interest in the topic at hand. That was until two minutes later when Jane was accosted by a mop of sable curls piled on top of a heavy wool coat and thick knitted scarf. If Jane could have squealed with delight, she would have, but her voice left her in a wash of tears.

"Oh, God, Lizzy! OH, God!"

"Its okay, Jane. I'm here, I'm alright. I'm here for awhile this time."

Jane pulled back from their fierce embrace to look at her prodigal sister. "Really?"

"Yes, here for a few months at least. This is it." Elizabeth look earnestly at Jane trying to convey the message to her that their time together was precious.

"This is it? The last of it?" Jane whispered.

"Yes, the end. But, another time for all that, alright? Right now, I'd like to meet your husband, please."

Jane smiled and proudly introduced the two people she loved most in the world to each other. Charles threw propriety to the winds and grabbed Elizabeth up in a bear hug.

"Welcome home, Elizabeth."

"I'm glad to finally meet the man that makes my sister happy."

"And I'm glad to finally have the hole in her heart filled. You've been greatly missed."

"Thank you, the feeling is shared, let me assure you."

William coughed softly to remind the mutual admiration society that other people existed at the table. Jane made the appropriate introductions, and Elizabeth greeted William and Caroline with a polite smile and "how do you do", but her heart wasn't in it. She was too wrapped up in seeing her sister after so long an absence. After a few more minutes of pleasantries, Elizabeth made motions to leave, stating she had to go to her new apartment and see if she was in need of anything for the night, and most of all to clean up after the excruciatingly long flight. She set her purse on the table and took out a pen and paper to scribble down her new address for Jane. They made plans to see each other the next morning, and Elizabeth made her excuses and left. Jane promptly excused herself to the restroom to put her face back together after the tearful reunion.

"Well, you definitely got the best out of that gene pool, Charles." Caroline's voice dripped acerbically.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Charles bristled.

"It means that your sister-in-law looks a bit like Sasquatch. Maybe she's been in the wilderness for the last three years."

"All I care is that Jane's happy. She can look like Medusa for all I care."

Not far off, don't you agree, William."

"I'm not really sure, it was hard to get a good look at her. I'm more concerned that she's been gone for three years with no contact. Seems a bit shady to me. You don't know where she's been, you don't know what she does for a living. She could be in all kinds of trouble, and just here looking for a free handout. Watch out for her, Charles."

"William, I promise its nothing like that."

"Just be mindful, okay, she sounds unreliable to me. I'm not impressed."

"From all Jane has told me she really is quite remarkable. I think you'd like her if you gave her a chance. I'm sure I'm going to like her immensely."

"I think I'll take a pass."

The two men's eyes turned at a low chuckle coming from behind them. Elizabeth stood there, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I've forgotten my purse. Would you mind, Charles?" He handed it to her, his faced blanched with the thought that she had heard William's harsh criticisms. She thanked him and patted his arm, not bothering to give Mr. Darcy a second glance, and left the same way she had come in.

Chapter Two

Elizabeth opened her eyes to a strange room and took mental inventory of her surroundings. Dresser to her left, door to her right, bed in front. She let out a deep sigh. She was in her new apartment, and she was alright. Hoisting herself from her sitting position on the floor, she placed her gun on the dresser. Her eyes stared longingly at the bed, while she stretched her aching muscles. Soon, she promised herself, she would actually spend the whole night in it.

It took a few minutes to adjust herself to her new surroundings. Villanova had set up the apartment for her while she was en route. Fully furnished and stocked with necessities, Elizabeth felt relieved that it was one more detail she did not have to worry about. She jumped into the shower, getting herself ready for her ten o'clock appointment with Jane. They had decided to meet at Jane's office, feeling it was the best place for them to have uninterrupted time together. She looked forward to it, and dreaded it at the same time. Jane was going to want to know what happened, and Elizabeth really wasn't ready to talk about it yet. There was little over the years that she had not told Jane, and she felt an intense guilt over it. She was scared she had jeopardized her sister's safety with the information she shared. Jane had always reassured her, insisting that even if she knew nothing, anyone who would seek to use her as a pawn would never believe it anyway. Jane refused to let Elizabeth carry the burden of her career alone, saying that she would never have the courage to do the things Elizabeth did, but she would do all in her power to help her keep it together. And Elizabeth loved her for it.

It was 9:45 when Elizabeth pulled into the parking lot of Jane's office. A quaint, stone building in the residential area of town, it reminded one of an English cottage. The interior was just as pleasing, comfortably appointed with soothing colors and overstuffed furniture. Just like Jane, the whole place had a way of putting a person at ease. Elizabeth loved it here. When Jane had decided to major in psychology so many years ago, Elizabeth had been skeptical. She had always thought that Jane would make a good teacher. But once Jane finished her degree and set up her office as a grief counselor, Elizabeth knew she couldn't have chosen better.

"Lizzybear!" Jane greeted Elizabeth at the door. Janeybird and Lizzybear. Thomas Bennet had affectionately called his girls these names from infancy. Elizabeth thought of her father warmly as she greeted her sister. Their father was an amazing man. It was from him that Jane inherited her interest in studying people. And it was from him that Elizabeth had inherited her current profession. Shaking her head, Elizabeth snapped out of her reverie and followed Jane through the door.

The office was closed to clients that day, as it was Saturday, so Jane and Elizabeth had the place to themselves. Jane had made coffee, and they each grabbed a cup and took up their favorite spots; Jane on the toile sofa and Elizabeth on the window seat. They smiled at each other affectionately, content for just a moment to be with each other again.

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding."

"Me, too."

"I'm sure it was lovely. I can't wait to see the pictures."

"It was wonderful, with one glaring exception."

Elizabeth curled her legs under her and lowered her eyes. "I was in a Turkish prison."

Jane's eyes widened in shock. "For three years?"

"For two years, four months, and three days."

"How?"

"Yushenkov thought it would be funny."

"Yushenkov?"

"Yes, it seems he set up an elaborate rouse to get me out of the way for awhile."

"Lizzy, my head is spinning. This makes no sense."

"Alright, I'll start from the top. I got an assignment to follow an arms shipment from Novosibirsk to Ankara, and we were sure it was Yushenkov's. So I did prep work for three weeks, setting up contacts and putting Manny, Moe and Jack in place before I even entered the country. That was the last time I called you."

"Yes, I remember. You said you would be unreachable for a few months. I was frantic when it became years Elizabeth."

"I know. I'm so sorry. You know that if it could have been any other way, it would have been."

"I thought you were dead, Lizzy."

"There were times I wish I were."

Jane's eyes welled with tears as she saw a chink in Elizabeth's usual armor. An admission of fear. She sat in silence, letting Lizzy set her own pace for the rest of the story, because she knew it was going to be bad.

"So, I go in with journalist credentials, saying I'm doing a piece on Turkish cuisine. You know, nothing threatening or note worthy. And about three days in we get our first hit. The shipment had been spotted en route, and from all reports, Yushenkov was going to see the deal through personally."

"No!"

"Yes. It was then that I started smelling a rat. He never gave the personal touch. No one has ever seen him. So, I let the boys and Villanova know that I thought the whole thing was bad. Villanova agreed and told the boys to pull out, but let me stay on for a few more days, just to be sure. Eight years, Jane. That's a long time to hunt one guy. I wasn't about to let him get away, if there was any chance he was going to be there."

"You got greedy, Lizzy."

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, "Yeah."

"And he knew you would."

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, digesting the pain in that particular truth.

"So, the day after the boys left, I was arrested on suspicion of espionage. And I guess they didn't need a trial, because I never got one, never met with a lawyer. They threw me in..."

Elizabeth shuddered and stopped. She couldn't tell Jane this part. She couldn't even remind herself of this part. It was enough that she slept with a gun in her hand and her back in a corner every night. No, she wasn't going to pick this particular scab just yet, and Jane sensed that she shouldn't press her.

"He must have had some contacts in high places in Ankara," Elizabeth continued. "It took Villanova over two years to find me and get me out of there. Then they put me up at Quantico for the debrief. That's always a joy."

Elizabeth sipped her coffee and collected her thoughts. A base full of Marines and she still hadn't felt safe. They had kept her there for almost eight months, running psychiatric fitness tests. There was a huge debate over whether or not she should be retired. Villanova had sent Elizabeth's handler in for most of the exams. He felt she could continue on, but that she was going to need to be watched closely.

"I found out later, that the shipment had actually been spotted, but after my arrest, it had been diverted to Syria. I'm sure that was his plan all along."

"I'm sorry, Lizzy. I'm so sorry for what happened to you." Jane rose to hug her sister, wishing she could wipe away the pain. For the first time in a long time, Jane was really scared for Elizabeth. Not for her safety this time, Jane had always been worried for Elizabeth's safety since she joined the Agency, but for her mental health. Elizabeth was right, eight years was long time to hunt one man. Jane had seen Elizabeth's need to bring Yushenkov to justice go from a job to an obsession.

"Lizzy, you said something last night about this being the end."

"Yushenkov is gunning for Darcy."

Jane gasped. A Pandora's box of phenomenal proportions had just been opened with those five words. Yushenkov, Russian mob boss, was after William Darcy, best friend of her husband. This was all hitting too close to home.

"Lizzy, they have to pull you off. They can't use you for this, you are too closely related to the situation."

"That's exactly why they are using me, Jane." Elizabeth's voice was soft, hoping that Jane would not make the next leap in logic, but knowing that she would.

"Because of Charles... and me." Elizabeth nodded.

"Darcy is in the middle of contract negotiations with Ambassador Solensky, to set up an oil refinery in Ivanovo. He's a little overwhelmed, and his cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam, has been pushing him to take on an assistant. Darcy is fighting it. He doesn't want to have to train someone right in the middle of all this, but Richard is adamant. They need someone close to Darcy to protect him from Yushenkov. So, Richard sent me a dossier on Darcy when I was cleared to return. I've been studying up on him and his company. The thought is that Richard will hand in a resume for me that will blow Darcy's socks off, and, with my prior knowledge of what's going on and my ability to speak fluent Russian..."

"You'll get the job. But I think I missed something. How do you know Richard? I've never even met him."

"There's a reason for that, Jane. He's my handler."

"I need a drink." Jane paled at this newest revelation. It was all starting to make sense. Richard Fitzwilliam was head of security and equal partner of D and F Utilities. His closeness to Darcy and Elizabeth's knowledge of Yushenkov made this a perfect setup. Darcy's affection for Charles and Jane would increase the chances of him employing Elizabeth. And with Richard's trumped up resume and personal stamp of approval, it was all but in the bag. Darcy would be so distracted with the negotiations that he would not notice anything amiss.

"This is insanity. You can't be ready to do this yet, Lizzy. You are still recovering from Turkey, and they set you up for a job you should never do when you are whole. You are personally involved here. What are they thinking? They are trying to kill you!" Jane's words flowed as quickly as her tears. Her body was wracked with sobs as the anger and hurt she had suppressed for years broke to the surface. She was angry at Lizzy, because she didn't know when to stop. She was angry at the Agency, because they would use Lizzy until she cracked, then toss her away like so much damaged goods. She was angry at her father, who had filled Lizzy's head from childhood with stories of his exploits abroad, of good versus evil. He had pushed her through martial arts classes when she should have been playing with dolls, taught her to shoot guns when she should have been riding bikes. He had all but forced Lizzy to become an agent. But mostly, Jane was angry at herself. Lizzy's job had never seemed real, not truly. Just wispy tales that Lizzy would spin, like their father's bedtime stories when they were young. And Jane had always told herself she was helping by being Lizzy's confidant, helping her carry the burden. She saw now it was crap. She had been deluding herself all these years. She had been no help to her sister, she had just been caught up in the intrigue of it all. And now that Lizzy needed real help, Jane was powerless to do anything. If she had been paying more attention, she would have seen long ago that Elizabeth was forming an unhealthy obsession for Yushenkov. Every mission for the last eight years had been related to Yushenkov in some way. And Jane knew her sister well enough to know that the time she spent in confinement in Turkey was filled with dreams and strategies of his capture.

Elizabeth rose from the window seat at the first signs of Jane's distress, but her attempts to comfort her were rebuffed.

"No! NO! I will not help lead you to your death. I will not sit here and watch you eaten alive by this job. Elizabeth you have to stop now. If he doesn't kill you, this whole thing will break your mind. You have to stop!"

"Jane, please.."

"NO! I've kept my mouth shut for way too long. You cannot bring this here, Lizzy. You put us all in danger. Enough is enough. Let someone else deal with Yushenkov."

"You act as though I have some choice, Jane. You seem to forget that I am owned. I have no say in this. I have no choice. And just who are they going to get at the last minute to fill in for me, huh? This isn't some desk job that can be done by any old girl from the typing pool."

"Why can't Richard do it?"

"Because Richard was a paper pusher, just like Dad. He's a retired analyst, he has never been in the field. Villanova asked him to come in to handle me as a personal favor, because he had been familiar with Yushenkov's area of operations before he retired."

Jane struggled to push down her overwrought emotions. Lizzy was right, of course. In the aftermath of her small breakdown, Jane saw that there was truly nothing she or Lizzy could do to change things. She took a deep, cleansing breath and looked her sister hard in the eye.

"Alright. We do this together, then. You can't do this alone, not this time. You tell me everything, every fear, every worry, every stress. Got it? And if you need me for anything else, same thing applies."

Lizzy was deeply touched by Jane's display of strength. She nodded her head in agreement, her voice momentarily choked off by tears.

"Alright, then. Enough of this. Let's go shopping. I'm going to need some suitable office attire."

The girls left the office, content to pretend for a few hours that life was normal and all was well.

Chapter Three

The whole shopping experience was a disappointment for Jane. Elizabeth chose only loose fitting pants and jackets with neutral dress shirts, and shoes without heels. Jane tried to tell her that with her exceptional figure, she should mix in a skirt or two. Maybe a little color? All met with a resounding “No.” Fitted clothes would show concealed weapons, heels would be an impediment if she needed to spring into action, and a skirt would only bring her unwanted attention. Her desire right now was to blend in and be as inconspicuous as possible.

“You are going to be the executive assistant to a man who has never needed one, Lizzy. Everyone is going to be watching you whether you like it or not.”

“True, but let them be bored to tears.” Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled with mischief. She was looking forward to this. For a few hours a day she was going to experience life as it could have been. And even though the rest of her time would be devoted to the dark and vague chaos that was her usual work, she would have those few hours of normalcy to help see her through. That and the fact that Richard would be there personally to oversee her, not some thousands of miles away, keeping tabs on her via computer and phone. And Jane. If nothing else went right, at least she will have spent these last few months with her sister before she retired into obscurity.

Dinner that evening was an intimate affair at the Bingley’s gorgeous lakeside mansion. Elizabeth was amazed with the way Jane was able to make such a large house look like a warm, welcoming home instead of the austere museum that the outer façade promised. As Caroline was out for the evening, and all pretense of formality went out with her, they decided to dine at the bar in the kitchen. Elizabeth and Charles took full advantage of the opportunity to become fast friends as Jane cooked. They all laughed at each other’s childhood stories. They shared interests and ideas. It was an overall success, and Elizabeth left that evening with warm feelings as well as leftovers.

The early morning rays met Elizabeth in her usual spot, dresser to the left, door to the right, bed in front. She rose and placed the gun once again on the dresser. Bypassing the shower, she went straight for the coffee, as she had dedicated the whole of the day to the review of Darcy’s file and preparation for tomorrow’s interview. Cup firmly in hand and phone disconnected from the outlet, she settled herself at the table and cracked open the thick file. How odd that such a small thing as a file folder could hold all there was to know of the life of one man. It held the story of his childhood upstate, of private boarding schools, European trips, the name of his first crush. His school transcripts were exceptional, but it was obvious that after the loss of his mother at the age of twelve, his cure for grief was to throw himself into his work. He graduated by age sixteen, with honors and as valedictorian of his class. Elizabeth smiled faintly. She too had graduated at sixteen, was also valedictorian of her class. Moving on through his file, she passed through his college years fairly quickly. He had met Charles during this time, been part of a well respected fraternity, and graduated with all the expected honors and accolades. At twenty-one he was just entering the family business when it all fell heavily on his shoulders with the passing of his father. This sad event also saddled him with the guardianship of his nine year old sister, Georgiana. Well, joint guardianship. Richard held the other half of that particular responsibility. And, retiring early from his career as an intelligence officer, Richard did all he could to help William through his blackest hours. Thus the forming of D and F Industries from the original Darcy, Inc. William and Richard tackled the family business head on, together. They bought and sold businesses, created new industry in struggling countries, funded charities. They were an imposing juggernaut in the business arena, with William at the helm and Richard heading security.

And so it went in a steady flow until six years ago, when Georgiana was killed in a horrible car wreck. Some mystery surrounded the whole incident. It seemed a childhood acquaintance by the name of George Wickham had been driving at the time, and had also died in the crash. But why they were together in the first place was a puzzle. Wickham had not been heard from for a couple of years, and to be found in the wreckage with a very much underage girl, family friend or not, raised some very uncomfortable questions. There was no more information about the incident in the file, but from the expansion of the business from the time of the crash until now, it was evident that William was in serious pain. He was drowning in the fury of new business he was creating. One such endeavor being the impetus for her being involved; his desire to expand into Russian soil. Obviously he had pissed off some pretty dangerous people, or Yushenkov would not be looking to ventilate William’s brain pan. But, luckily, he was oblivious to these threats right now. His whole being was thrown into contract negotiation after contract negotiation. Elizabeth was truly shocked he had not collapsed under the strain. The race was on to see who would kill him first, Yushenkov or himself. Drawing out a photograph from the mass of papers before her, she traced a finger over the outline of his face. “Hang in there, doll,” she whispered. “The cavalry‘s coming.”

Chapter Four

Monday. Same morning ritual. The following evening, Elizabeth had worked out what she would wear and how she would do her hair so her morning would be as stress free as possible. This was a better decision than she had originally thought, as she quickly found out that she was not going to be able to hide her gun under any of her new suits, loose fitting or no. Digging through her little black bag, she found a throwing knife she could wear at the small of her back, secured by the waist band of her pants. Since it was cold outside she could get away with wearing a blazer all the time, so the pearl inlaid handle would never show. But it wasn’t enough. She needed something a little more handy in case of an emergency. She made her final decision as she did her hair. Smoothing her dark mass of curls, and twisting them into a large figure eight at the back of her head, she secured the mass with two steel pins, each with an intricately carved scroll work winding around its circumference and a dangerously sharp tip. Function and beauty, she smiled at her reflection. A few touches of blush and a bit of eyeliner and she was ready. She grabbed her overcoat and scarf and headed out for her nine a.m. meeting with Richard and William. Strike that. Mr. Darcy.

The Regency Building stood before her, some fifteen minutes later, like an imposing monster of glass and steel. Story upon story flew from the pavement in reflective succession, making her crane her neck to see the top. Elizabeth stepped through the front doors and into the very clean, very minimalist lobby. No fuss, no muss. She approached the front desk and stated her business. The receptionist greeted her with the perfect amount of politeness, and buzzed Richard’s office to announce Elizabeth’s arrival.

“You may go up, Ms. Bennet. Sixteenth floor.”

“Thank you.”

Elizabeth soaked up her surroundings, becoming one with her environment. It was obvious he required crisp professionalism, and on her elevator ride to the top floor she took on that identity, setting her shoulders and chin just so, and assuming an air of “all business”. She had arrived at the building a blank canvas, as she always did when starting a new mission. But the Elizabeth who stepped from the elevator onto the sixteenth floor was the no-nonsense executive assistant for one of the most powerful men in the country.

Another secretary greeted her as she stepped off the elevator and directed her to Richard’s office. She tapped lightly on his closed door.

“Come in. Ah, Ms. Bennet. Please, come in and close the door.”

Two seconds after the door closed, Elizabeth found the breath squeezed out of her by Richard’s tight embrace.

“Lizzy! We’ve got about five seconds before we have to go see the big guy. Its so good to see you, you look good, you look the part. Well, done, good choice. Okay, are you ready? Damn, I’ve missed you. You sure you’re ready? Okay, we can do this, together. I’ve got your back. Okay.”

Elizabeth broke character and raised a wicked eyebrow at her old friend.

“Richard, take a breath, you’re more nervous than I am. And you can let me go now. I don’t want to have to put a call in to Petra and tell her where your hands have been.” Her low chuckle eased some of his tension as he stepped back. He was so damn uptight about this whole thing. He was worried William would see right through him. He never got nervous, what the hell was this? Was he starting to crack? What was he, some wet-behind-the-ears rookie?

Elizabeth say Richard’s eyes glaze over with pre-game jitters. She had been so wrapped up in her own worries, she had failed to think of how all this might be affecting him. She put a comforting hand on his arm, looked him firmly in the eye, and said, “You leave your balls in your mommy’s purse again, Richard?” A hundred yards from the entrance of the Regency Building, inside an unmarked white van parked on the curb, three very large marines burst out in riotous laughter. So did Richard, and his wave of fear subsided.

“All right, tough guy, let’s do this,” Richard laughed. Pulling themselves together they exited the office and headed down the hall.

Elizabeth and Richard stood in front of the double oak doors of William’s office, speaking in hushed tones.

“I’ve met him already, Richard. At a restaurant downtown on Friday night. I had to see Jane, and he was there, too. He doesn’t like me. This may be harder than we had originally planned.”

Richard nodded, taking this new information in. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing other than ‘hello, nice to meet you’. I didn’t want to influence this meeting in any way. But it seems that he is pretty put off by my three year absence. He thinks I’m in trouble of some sort and have come back looking for a handout.”

Again, Richard nodded. “As of right now, he doesn’t know its you he’s meeting. Just that you are an old friend of mine and come highly recommended. Let’s just touch on the highlights of Turkey, and only if we have to. With that and me vouching for your integrity, we should be set.”

Elizabeth took a breath and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll go in first, and see if he’s ready.”

As Richard entered the office, William looked up from the piles of papers and files on his desk.

“Good morning, Richard.”

“Morning, Will. Our ten o’clock is here. You ready?”

“Yes, but let’s keep this short and sweet, okay? I have a conference call in fifteen minutes. You’ve filled her in already, and the sooner she can start the better. This is all just formality.”

“Sounds good.”

William rose from his desk as Richard opened the door and ushered Elizabeth in.

“William, meet Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth, this is William Darcy.”

William froze. His brow creased, his gaze darkened, his jaw set.

“I don’t have time for games, Richard.”

...