Her cellphone jangled and danced on top of a box nearby, and Elsie lunged for it before it fell off. It was her mother, and normally she’d ignore it, but she’d been about to cross a line she swore she wouldn’t cross. So she answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Elsie, dear. You have to listen to me. Collin is packing up right this minute. He’s stopped asking about you.”
“That’s a good thing, Mom.” Elsie glanced at Will, hoping he wasn’t hearing her mother’s end of things. He didn’t seem to be listening. He looked pensive, like his thoughts were elsewhere.
“It’s worse. I checked his phone while he was in the bathroom. He’s been texting back and forth with Charlotte Lucas for days. He called her ‘his sweetie.’ You have to do something, Elsie. All that money can’t go to the Lucas’s.”
No way. There was no way Charlotte would be interested in Collin. “How do you know it’s her? It could be anybody.”
“Elsie Bennet, I’m not a fool. I looked up the number. It’s her.”
“Okay, well. Good luck to them. I gotta go.” Elsie hung up before her mother could start begging again.
“Sorry about that. So, do you want to go somewhere or make something for dinner here?”
Will shrugged, no longer the teasing guy he’d been before. There was no reason to feel guilty about that. It was only a phone call. You were supposed to answer those.
“Follow me then. I make a mean roast beef sandwich.”
***
Will wasn’t just here for some peace and quiet. He was here to give Charlie a chance to talk to Jane. He’d made Charlie promise it would be tonight. There was no time left, and if Charlie put it off again, he’d probably end up sending Jane a text on his drive to the airport.
Was it selfish to take one last chance to win over Elsie while her sister got dumped? His conscience bothered him, there was no denying it. But he also liked being in her house. Elsie didn’t hover, she didn’t put on airs. She was just herself, hair in a messy bun, yoga pants, and a T-shirt that said, “Bookmarks are for quitters.” When he wasn’t completely exasperated with her, all he thought about was taking her in his arms and kissing her senseless.
At the moment, he was tending toward exasperated. The sandwich she’d made him was the driest thing he’d eaten in a long time, but she’d put the mayonnaise back in the fridge, and he didn’t want to make a fuss when she already thought he was a food snob. He took a long drink of lemonade made from a powdered mix and wished he’d put in a vote to go out to a restaurant.
He looked up and saw Elsie eyeing him. “What’s the matter, Will?”
“Nothing.” He picked up his sandwich, putting on what he hoped was an enthusiastic face.
Elsie laughed. “Put the thing down. You are the worst actor I’ve ever seen. Worse than Lydia, and that’s saying something. What’s wrong with the sandwich? Do you not like roast beef?”
“I love roast beef. I could use a little more mayonnaise though. That’s all.”
She got up and got the jar out of the fridge. “That’s because you didn’t let me put mustard on it. You can’t have roast beef without mustard.”
“Says you.”
“Says me.” She took his plate from him and lathered a generous layer of mayonnaise on the bread.
Great, now it had too much. Why couldn’t the woman let him make his own sandwich? It was time to be the real him. Holding back was exhausting. He picked up his knife and scraped half of it off. Then he put the sandwich back together and took a big bite. “Now it’s perfect.”
“You are a fussy, Will Darcy. You know that, right?” Her glare only made him glad he did it.
“I can be exacting.”
“I would have said trying.”
“Fair enough. I like things a certain way.”
“You like getting your way, Will.” There was a bite to her tone that made him realize just how far he was from being in her good graces. And it had nothing to do with roast beef.
He stared her down and she ducked her head, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry.”
“I am too. I have high mayonnaise standards. They’re impossible to live up to.”
