Libby stood in the parking lot, still shaking with adrenaline and disgust, when she noticed three figures approaching quickly across the lot. A petite woman in an elegant coat flanked by two large men dressed casually in jeans and jackets.
The woman broke into a light run. "Are you okay?" she asked breathlessly as she reached Libby.
The two men positioned themselves between Calvin and the women, their body language making it clear he should stay exactly where he was.
"I'm fine," Libby said, confused. "Just a drunk idiot."
"Do you know him?" the woman asked, studying Calvin with distaste.
"Unfortunately, yes."
The woman slipped her arm through Libby's with easy familiarity, steering them both toward the entrance. "The guys will handle him. He won't bother you again."
Libby pulled back slightly, thrown by this stranger's confident assumption of authority. "I'm sorry, who?—"
"I'm Georgia D'Arcy," the woman said, green eyes gleaming with amusement at Libby's expression.
Libby gaped at her.
Georgia gave a little shiver. "I'm an absolute ice cube out here. Shall we go inside for a cup of tea?"
Numbly, Libby let them into Jane's apartment. Georgia unbuttoned her coat with a flourish, revealing a cashmere sweater, her blonde hair slightly windswept, cheeks flushed from the cold—or perhaps from excitement. She was lithe and elegant, with the same striking green eyes as her brother, but where Liam's were guarded, hers sparkled with barely contained energy. She hummed softly as she moved around the apartment, seemingly delighted to be there.
Libby busied herself in the kitchen, returning with two cups of tea. "Sorry, we only have chamomile."
Georgia waved her off, settling onto the couch and taking a sip contentedly.
"I'm sorry, but why are you here?" Libby blurted. "How are you here?"
"Oh, I broke into the personnel files to get your sister's address!" Georgia said brightly, then corrected herself. "Well, not literally, but I did call HR and have them send it to me. Liam said you were staying with your sister and?—"
"Liam said?"
"When he called me after the first period in an absolute spiral." Georgia's delight at her brother's plight was undisguised.
"Liam sent you here to check on me because I wasn't at the game?"
"Yes!" Georgia practically bounced with glee. Then she added casually, taking another sip of tea, "Oh, and to handle the Wickham thing."
"Oh, he knows about that?" Libby asked, feeling something cold and heavy settle in her chest.
Georgia's expression softened with sympathy. "Libby—may I call you Libby? Okay, good, please call me George—everyone knows about that." She quickly covered Libby's hand with hers. "But it's fine. We're going to handle this. I have the lawyers on speed dial and carte blanche to do whatever needs doing."
Libby felt her stomach drop. "Lawyers?" Of course. The D'Arcys would protect themselves, distance themselves from the scandal. "Of course." She'd known they'd have no choice but to take action against her, but naively, stupidly, she'd thought it would wait until Monday. "Should—should my lawyer be present? My editor? HR?"
"Whatever for?" Georgia looked genuinely puzzled. "I mean, if you want your family lawyer present, we can certainly arrange that. But I'm not being arrogant when I say that we have the best legal team in the Northeast on this. If anyone can get you out of this, it's them."
"Get me out of this...?"
The cold knot in her chest rose into her throat. It was hard to breathe.
"He sent you to—to help me? Why would he do that?"
Georgia looked at her with those unsettling green eyes. "You really don't know?"
Before Libby could respond, her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:
Unknown
