She was right; he was an asshole. And maybe it didn’t matter that his version of self-serving only meant putting the ones he cared about first, because in the end, someone she cared about was still collateral damage.
But Tristan… that was another story. How had that asshole found his way into her life? Was he truly interested in her, or was he using her to get to him? Will shook his head. Did it even matter? Regardless of the reason, Tristan was there, spreading lies and further cementing Elizabeth’s vitriol. Perhaps she even had real feelings for him. But if he was using her as a pawn in this…
Fuck it, Will thought, throwing back the rest of his drink.
If he couldn’t defend himself on the first count, he sure as hell would lay out the facts about the second.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and took a moment to focus on the screen before opening his browser. The Bennet Bakery website looked like it was stuck in the early aughts, with two pages not even loading properly. But Will finally found the contact information on the bottom of the menu page.
It was the whiskey’s fault that it took him four tries to tap the number. It was also the whiskey’s fault that he didn’t hesitate when his screen prompted him:Do you want to call?
He just tapped yes.
The phone rang three times before connecting. After a mechanical click, Lizzy’s voice filled the line.
“Hi! You’ve reached Bennet Bakery. We’re either busy or closed, but if you leave a message, we’ll get back to you when we’re not busy or closed. Thanks!”
He recognized her familiar tone, soft and uneven, like a cashmere sweater with a snag down the front. But it was different, too. Lighter somehow, and not just because she sounded slightly younger. It took him a moment to recognize why.
She was happy. The smile was evident in her voice, and at the end she even stifled a laugh. That was why it sounded so foreign—because she was never happy when she was talking to him.
It hurt, but the pain was usurped by a loudBEEP, the cue to start speaking.
“Hello, this message is for Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth, this is Will. Darcy. This is Will Darcy. I don’t have your cell number or I would have called you directly. I also don’t have an email address or I would have written to you. You really should have an email on your bakery’s website, or at least a contact form.”
Damn it. He was already messing this up.
He squeezed his eyes shut and powered on. “All that to say, my first choice wasn’t a voicemail. But you said you were the only one who checks this, and I don’t have any other way to contact you. I don’t do social media, and regardless…” He stopped himself, focusing on the words he needed to say. “I’m not looking to relive what just happened. I’m over it, as I’m sure you are, too. But you leveled some serious accusations against me. And it’s important that you know the truth.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how you and Tristan know each other, and I know you will say it’s none of my business, but I know him. I have known him since I was fifteen. We werebest friends in high school. After graduation, I went to Columbia, but Tristan claimed he had to save up for tuition before applying to college, so I promised to help him find a job. I called my dad, and…” Will’s hand bracketed his temples, massaging away the memory. “My dad liked Tristan. He wanted to help. So he gave him a position at his firm, he mentored him. Gave him access to clients most people only dream of…”
He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Then, a few years later, my parents were in California, driving through the mountains. It was late and snowing… and… they got in a car accident, and I lost them both.”
He opened his eyes again and took a deep breath. “I took a leave of absence from work to help organize their estate. It was all so sudden; everything was a mess. So I took it all on. That’s when I found the emails, the credit card statements, the loans…”
He stood up again and began pacing the deck.
“My father was a good man. And Tristan manipulated that. Made up stories about his family, his situation, even about me, to get money from my dad. Hundreds of thousands of dollars that he spent on vacations and clothes and God knows what. Then he didn’t even come to my parents’ funeral.” Will stopped, taking a breath. “I confronted him afterward. And he just laughed it off. Like it was some sort of joke. He knew he hadn’t technically broken the law, so there was nothing I could do. And he was right. But I still had my attorneys lock all my father’s accounts, cancel his credit cards. If you don’t believe me, I can have them contact you. The firm is Page, Lefroy, and Brandon. They have everything on file.”
Will shook his head. “I don’t know what he told you, but that is Tristan Cole. He is a liar and he uses people. And if you had bothered to ask me about any of this, I could have told you the truth in person. We could have avoided all—”
BEEP, the answering machine cut him off.
“Damn it!” he bellowed, his head falling back.
Then he turned back to his glowing screen and pressed the number again.
Three rings. A click.
“Hi! You’ve reached Bennet Bakery. We’re either busy or closed, but if you leave a message, we’ll get back to you when we’re not busy or closed. Thanks!”
He glared down at his feet. “Hello, this message is for Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth, this is Will. My first message was cut off before I could finish, and I just wanted to say…”
His voice faded as he looked up. The branches were still swaying above his head, their leaves rustling together in a sound that seemed to mimic the beach break.
“I’m sorry if Tristan lied to you about me. And I’m sorry that I have to be the one to tell you.” Another moment before he continued, “But I can’t apologize for Charlie, or for finding a reason to keep him in New York after we left. He’s been hurt before, and he didn’t deserve that again. I’m just sorry if it hurt your sister. Or… you.”
The leaves rolled above him. He closed his eyes and listened, breathing in the smell of salt and pine as his mind swayed from the whiskey.
