Page 44 of Stuck

“That’s okay. I have no qualms being petty enough for both of us.”

She grabbed my hand and gave me a sad but firm look. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Bingley, but I do love him. I don’t want you to let him down tonight because of me. I have enough to think about without adding guilt to the mix.”

“You have a lot of faith that I won’t stab him in the testicle with a cocktail stick as soon as we hit the buffet table.”

She didn’t reply.

“Fine. Let me text him—see if he still wants me to come.”

It went in Bingley’s favour that he hadn’t asked me whether I was still going. If he’d been selfish enough to worry about his investors while Jane’s heart was breaking, I’d have considered his very last bridge burnt. I gave Jane one last squeeze and got up to retrieve my phone from my handbag.

At my sister’s entreaty and not because you deserve it, I will still come tonight if you’d like me to. Do not come to the flat. Text me the address, and I’ll get an Uber.

Three dots immediately popped up as though he’d had his phone in his hand, waiting for a message. I felt an annoying pang of pity for him.

The dots disappeared and reappeared repeatedly until, eventually, three words appeared on the screen.

Thank you. Both.

I had to assume he’d decided that everything else he’d been frantically typing would be better said in person and resigned myself to it being a long night.

Another message pinged through, telling me I didn’t need to get an Uber, that he’d send a car, and giving me the registration number and driver’s name and mug shot for safety, which I grudgingly admitted was thoughtful. If only he could be that thoughtful about the things he said to the love of his life. Idiot.

“Looks like Cinderella is going to the ball,” I said, looking up at Jane.

She gave me a forlorn, tight-lipped smile. “I’m glad.”

“He conveniently forgot to mention having his own driver when I was laughing about his friend having one.”

“He doesn’t have his own fleet like Darcy does—he uses an external concierge service for important events. Besides, he probably didn’t want to be included in your teasing. You can be brutal when you want to be.”

“If he was worried I’d be brutal about that, he must be bricking his pants imagining what I’m going to say to him about upsetting you.”

Jane’s smile widened, and I wondered suddenly whether her agreeing to me still going to the gala wasn’t purely altruism. I’d always been more comfortable speaking my mind than she had; perhaps she was hoping I would be a teensy bit brutal with Bingley on her behalf.

“Let’s get you ready, then” was all she said. “Doing your hair will give me something to take my mind off all this.”

She worked wonders with it, gathering my mop of curls into an impressive updo with sexy little tendrils falling around my face and neck. I took my time on my makeup too—not because I was interested in making a good impression on anyone for Bingley’s sake, but because unlike the last time I’d played arm candy for him, I had my own dress for this evening, and it was a dress that demanded the full works to go with it: hair, makeup, jewellery, nails, killer heels, the lot.

It had all been Jane’s idea and courtesy of Bingley’s credit card—their thank you to me for going along with this ruse for so much longer than I signed up for. Of course, since then, Bingley had thrown their relationship under the bus and was probably vastly regretting the hefty price tag, but excuse me if I felt zero contrition about that. A little pain in his wallet was the least he deserved.

When I was ready, I stood in front of the hallway mirror and checked everything was in place. I tried not to look too pleased in front of Jane, since I was about to spend the evening with her possibly soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, but I’d scrubbed up well even if I did say so myself.

I wondered whether Darcy would think so too. I hadn’t had much time to think about him today—Jane and Bingley’s drama had taken up all my energy since last night. But as soon as the thought entered my head, I felt a shiver of anticipation at the thought of him seeing me in this dress. It would be nice for him to think I looked pretty after seeing all the ugliest parts of me yesterday.

“You look beautiful,” Jane said behind me. “All you have to do now is not stack it in those heels or knock anyone’s drink over, and you might convince everyone you’re as elegant as you look.”

I caught her eye in the mirror. “Very funny. Some people find clumsiness endearing, you know.”

She smiled fondly, and I returned it, knowing full well she was one of them. More seriously, I asked, “How do you want me to play it tonight? Anything in particular you want me to say to him—or not say? If you want me to be a brick wall, I will be—he won’t get anything out of me. If you want me to make him suffer, I can do that too. Or I can try and talk some sense into him.”

She thought about it for a moment. “Just don’t make him any promises. I don’t know how I feel yet. Also… maybe make him suffer a bit.”

I grinned, and my reflection looked decidedly wicked. “You got it.”

20

ELIZABETH