From Pemberley to Manhattan Read online

  “Dick! And Jane! How are you?” I greeted my Mom’s friend and his wife, not believing how inappropriate his name had become at that particular – and embarrassing – moment. Fortunately, they hadn’t heard what we’d been talking about, and didn’t suspect the topic of our conversation, even though Fanny laughed for a full minute.

  “She’s already had a lot of Margaritas”, I told the couple discreetly as explanation, and they nodded in comprehension.

  After exchanging some pleasantries about the party and Dad’s food, Dick and Jane moved on, but I barely had an opportunity to resume my conversation with Fanny; more of Mom’s old friends came to talk to me. And, as a good hostess, I had to indulge.

  I gave the handsome man a furtive look again after a while, only to be surprised as I discovered him still looking at me. His eyes didn’t tell me if his gaze was full of admiration or disgust, though. It could be neither. Or both. However, something in his whole persona was unmistakable. It was clear this was a very proud man.

  I didn’t like that particular treat at all.

  ♥

  Bobby

  It was a warm, humid evening, as expected during New York summer. I’d barely left the air-conditioned restaurant and was already feeling sweat roll over my back.

  On the other hand, outside was a lot nicer; my girlfriend, Anna, looked simply irresistible, her white dress contrasting sexily with her black, satin skin. She was the perfect woman in the perfect setting.

  Anna glanced at me and winked, then turned back to the group she’d been talking to. If she weren’t helping Mom tonight with the guests (as we were all supposed to be doing) and I didn’t have to babysit a two-hundred-and-some year old dude, we’d be having the make out of the century.

  “Hello, dear. Long time no see. Why don’t you visit me more often? No patience for this old lady, right?” Mrs. Trowel. She worked at the museum with my mom, restoring art or something as boring. Desperate to find a way to get rid of her, I introduced Darcy-dude to her.

  Five minutes later, every woman over sixty in that party was drooling all over the guy. They were enchanted with his manners, his “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Ma’am”, and his thick Brit accent. Time travel dude was funny; he pronounced each word and spoke every sentence with an air of who’d just discovered the cure of cancer. What I thought hilarious the women called “charming”, though.

  Since my brain couldn’t process all the gossiping from the ladies, I made myself focus on Darcy, only to find him staring at something on my far left. Actually, not something. Someone. Darcy-dude was checking Nat out, examining every inch of her.

  She was distracted, talking to Dick and Jane, but Fanny was looking our way, examining Darcy’s low parts with hungry eyes. Huh. That would be interesting.

  “Hey, Darcy! Want me to introduce that lady to you?” I used air quotes as I said “lady” referring to my sister. She’d kill me if she heard me call her that.

  For a second, I could see in his features he was bothered I’d noticed, but right the next moment he was back to his serious self, chin up and brow arched, wearing his I-discovered-the-cure-of-cancer look. His eyes never left Nat, though.

  “I’m in no humour to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men”, he informed quickly, his accent even thicker than normal.

  “Duuuude.” I said it slowly, knowing it would drive him nuts. “I have no idea what you just said.” Interesting how we theoretically spoke the same language, still we understood less than five percent of what the other said.

  “I have been observing the lady for quite some time.” Oh, really? He was so full of it. “She is very handsome, yet no man has been tempted enough to ask her to dance. Why should I?”

  Well, that was a jerky remark. For the first time since meeting him, his arrogance wasn’t funny, but offensive. I didn’t care if he called me poor, but as sure as hell I wouldn’t tolerate him calling my sis undesirable. The only men who could find Nat undesirable were Ethan, Dad and myself!

  “That’s my sister, dude. Her name’s Nathalie.”

  Needless to say Mr. Perfect apologized for his rude remark. “Since the lady is my hostess, and your sister, I wish to be introduced”, he finished.

  “Sure.” My tone was cooler, indicating I hadn’t forgiven him completely yet.

  A group of people Nat had been talking to moved away as we approached them. When her gaze fell onto us, Darcy began clearing his throat. Even his throat clearing was pompous.

  Oh, Nat would eat this guy alive.

  ♥

  Mr. Darcy should have been more discreet; this was not the place or the time to be distracted by a woman, no matter how handsome she might be. When questioned by her brother, he’d acted as if he were indifferent to her beauty, but, in truth, it had been quite the opposite.

  The reason why no single man sought her out was by her own doing; she was doing her best to be invisible amongst the shadows. Still, she failed to hide herself from him.

  She was the first person he’d considered worth a second look the moment he’d walked into the night, out into the pathetic excuse Mr. Carlos Estevez called a “garden”. Her black hair looked brilliant and silky, her olive skin looked smooth, and he surprised himself by desiring to touch her, even though neither of them was wearing any gloves. It wasn’t a gentlemanlike thought, but he couldn’t help himself.

  Mr. Darcy had then looked away, being thankfully distracted by a lady acquainted with Mr. Robert Estevez Brown. Moments later, he had the feeling he was been observed, only to discover he now had become the object of the lady’s scrutiny.

  She blushed as he looked in her direction, which made the green in her eyes brighter. Her lips parted a bit, and he unconsciously smiled. He smiled at a woman he’d never been introduced to! How ruder could he be?

  Fortunately, something her companion said had diverted her attention, and now he was left to study her further.

  Unlike most women from this party, the lady didn’t seem to be suffering from lack of nurture. She had womanly curves, emphasized by her strapless blue dress. It clung to her waist and her hips in a flattering way. Mr. Darcy had been vexed by feminine fashion in the twenty-first century, but somehow that lady looked very elegant in her dress, regardless of the absurd amount of skin it exposed.

  When she glanced quickly back at him, he should have known he was drawing Mr. Robert’s attention. Now he was walking toward her, Nathalie, who looked every bit as nervous as he felt. Although he was quite certain his feelings were not as obvious as hers were. Until they reached Miss Estevez Brown and her friend.

  Despite being advised about the basic social rules expected in the twenty-first century, Mr. Darcy went on his gentlemanlike mode and, as he was introduced, he did the last thing a man who wished to be taken seriously could have done: he bowed.

  “What the flock are you doing?” Nat stared at Darcy as if he were crazy, while Fanny offered her hand for him to kiss. He pretended he didn’t see it.

  Attempting to smooth things out, Bobby forced out a laugh, explaining about the makeup story of Darcy, the Dude, being an actor and all. While Fanny loved the tale, Nat was suspicious, especially when Bobby mentioned Darcy was staying with them for a few weeks.

  “He helped Ethan out a lot, that’s what I know.” Bobby offered as explanation, after his sister rudely pulled him away from the group to interrogate him about the newcomer.

  “So the way Ethan pays back is by inviting a stranger to live under our roof? And he’s not even coming? He’s totally out of his mind!”, Nat spat back.

  “Technically, it’s Grandma’s roof. Dad’s called her; she said it was ok. So that’s that. You know how she has a thing for the Brits.” Her brother winked, a grin on his face. Oh, Nat wished she could slap it off.

  “Right, then. But he better behave!”, Nat warned him.

 
“There you won’t have a problem, my lady”, Bobby answered sarcastically, making Nat roll her eyes.

  “Just keep him away from my room, will you?”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want, Nat?”, Bobby asked. A verbal answer was not required, for his sister told him what he needed to know by blushing deeply.

  ♥

  Nat

  “Do you dance to this… music?”, his voice was as strong as a thunder, making the hair of my arms go up. Still, I was offended by his obvious disdain as he mentioned the music. Nobody scorned Sinatra!

  Not only the music was very pleasant (excuse me, arrogant Brit), the whole setup was great. Normally, there would be about twenty tables around the bar, which was right in the middle of the restaurant. Tonight, however, the only tables left there were the ones on the back of the room. The rest of the space had been turned into a dance floor, and dozens of couples danced to “I’ve got you under my skin”. We’d decided to go back inside when the heat had become unbearable.

  Throat clearing. And there he went again, “Do you dance to this music?”

  In his favor, there was no disdain in his tone this time. Maybe Sinatra was beginning to grow in him.

  “I heard you before. But your question is ambiguous. Do you mean if people in general dance to this music or if I do?”

  Fanny spit some of her drink as she laughed, and Bobby put a hand on Mr. Darcy’s shoulder.

  “She’s going to make you fight for it, my friend.” My brother told him. Bobby could be a smart boy when he tried.

  “I beg your pardon?”, Darcy asked. It was the tenth time he asked that in the last ten minutes. It was probably the only line he had in his “play”.

  “Do as I do, dude.” Bobby turned to Fanny and offered his hand out to her. “Oh, fair maiden! Would you like to dance with your Prince Charming?”

  She giggled and accepted his hand, and there they went, my brother and best friend leaving me alone with actor guy. Thanks a lot, traitors.

  Darcy (was that his first or last name?) cleared his throat – yet again – and faced me, his dark blue eyes piercing mine.

  Oh, my sweet little mermaid.

  “I believe your brother was laughing at me.” A hint of a smile appeared on his lips, and all I did was stare at his mouth. Holy crisis! All the guy did was offer me a pathetic excuse of a smile and I was already thinking about how kissable his lips were?

  And the answer was very, totally, one hundred and ten percent kissable, by the way.

  I internally slapped myself on the cheek and did my best to keep it cool. “Don’t mind him.”

  “I don’t. I find your brother quite amusing.” I was sure Bobby thought the same of Darcy. He cleared his throat again. “So… If you are not otherwise engaged, may I be so bold as to claim the next dance?”

  Darcy placed his hand right in front of me, palm up. I held back a laugh, knowing it might upset him. I could’ve made up an excuse; it was a bad idea to dance with a very attractive stranger who was going to sleep in my house and acted as if he were from the nineteenth century. On the other hand… Who said no to Sinatra?

  My hand was enveloped by his, its warmth traveling through my body. I was shivering head to toe, and it wasn’t from cold. Far from it. Rarely did I respond like that to a man. To a longtime boyfriend? Maybe. To a total stranger? It was a first.

  When we reached the center of the dance floor, he moved in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine. He gazed down at the point where we were connected, then looked around, observing the other couples dance.

  Slowly, he took a step closer, letting go of my hand, placing his two hands on each side of my waist, without exactly touching me. He was then paralyzed, looking at me, searching for something. Was he waiting… for an authorization? Even though it was unexpected, and kind of unnecessary, since I’d already accepted to dance with him, I thought it was a sweet gesture.

  “It’s okay”, I assured him, gripping his wrists, guiding his hands to my back, moving even closer to him. I put my hands on his shoulders, and found them tense. Wow, that Brit could be uptight. I shouldn’t have found that hot but… I did.

  “So, is your acting a full time job or do you work with something else to pay the bills?” I tried to break the ice after a few moments of weird silence.

  “Work?”, Darcy looked confused. “Gentlemen don’t work.”

  I couldn’t hold back this time; I laughed out loud, still in his arms. Bobby wasn’t exaggerating; this guy didn’t leave his character. “You’re great, Darcy. I’m sure your play will be fantastic.”

  “I thank you, Miss Brown.”

  “Please, call me Nat. I’ll laugh every time you call me Miss Brown. It’s too bizarre.”

  “I will try my best, Miss Nathalie.” Something in his tone made me look up at him. His eyes were burning into mine. I took a misstep and he held me back in place, his grip on me tightening.

  Oh, we were navigating in dangerous waters now. I had to make small talk. “So, what other tricks do you know?” That was awful, Nathalie! If the guy had a dirty mind, he could think you were flirting with him! Was I? “You know, do you play the piano?”

  “My sister is the talented player in our house. She practices daily, and sings too.” He smiled broadly as he spoke of her. It was the first full smile I saw on his lips. It looked good there. He should do it more often. “What about you?”

  “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the piano, but never had the time… I’ve always studied so hard… And, whenever I have time off, I prefer to take a walk, or go swimming, or read a book.”

  “Then you’ve employed your time much better. I believe nothing is more important than improving your mind by extensive reading.” I was still digesting his words, when he came up with a new question, “Do you speak any of the modern languages?”

  I giggled a bit, and heard someone doing the same on my left. Bobby and Fanny had been eavesdropping. “Besides English? Only French.”

  “I speak English and Bad English! Does that count?”, Fanny cut in.

  “And I speak Spanish”, Bobby announced proudly. Yeah, right.

  “Since when?”, I asked.

  “Since I watched the Terminator. Hasta la vista, baby.”

  By the end of the night, Anna had joined us, along with Mom and Dad, and we’d danced until our feet ached. Mom had had her concerns about letting a total stranger stay at our house too, but after conversing with Darcy for a few minutes, she was convinced he was the nicest and politest man that ever lived.

  “Maybe he can teach your brother some manners. You too, baby.” She told me before going upstairs. Thanks a lot, Mom.

  After all guests left, Bobby, Anna, Darcy and I stayed outside for a little longer. My brother used tablecloths to cover the grass and we laid there, watching the stars and the full moon.

  As the adrenaline of the party left my body, I began dozing off. I let myself take a nap while Darcy told some of his stories to my brother and his girlfriend. He was a great storyteller, we discovered. I became conscious again sometime later as strong arms carried me upstairs, into my room. Still too sleepy to open my eyes or move, I let their owner lay me gingerly in my bed.

  Believing I was alone, I let sleep take control again, but before I was lost in my dreams, I heard a thunderous voice say in the sweetest tone, “Good night, Nat.”

  ♥

  Chapter 5

  Nat

  “I’m late!” When my digital watch informed me it was past nine thirty, that was my first thought on that Sunday morning.

  The apartment was completely silent; Sunday was the busiest day for almost everyone in my family. It was the day Dad’s restaurant most profited, its never-ending customers driving Anna (Dad’s hostess, besides being Bobby’s girlfriend) crazy. Mom rarely came home from the MET before eight P.M. on Sundays. Bobby genera
lly spent his mornings and afternoons practicing soccer with his former teammates from Columbia University.

  Hating to stay at home alone doing nothing, I always used the last day of the week to complete the tasks I’d been delaying. It generally meant doing laundry, finishing papers, answering e-mails, checking our bookstore inventory.

  When one thought about it, having the family’s businesses (yes, in the plural, since our family owned both a restaurant and a bookstore) established in the same building where we lived transformed us all in workaholics. We literally lived in our workplaces.

  I was showered and ready before ten, and rushed to the kitchen. Having a chef dad meant our kitchen was modern and massive, and our storage had everything we could have wished for. And more.

  I came to a halt in the dining room, realizing I was not alone, as I’d mistakenly believed. Darcy sat at the table, calmly reading the New York Times, the glass doors to the balcony open, letting in the warm breeze of New York.

  We’d had a great time at the party, but I had to remind myself I was in a so-far-so-good relationship. I’d been dating this great detective who worked for the Special Victims Unit of the NYPD for the past six months. We’d met at the self-defense class, but he’d been very respectful, only asking me out when the class was over. This weekend, he was working double (or triple, maybe) shifts because of a new case, so he hadn’t been able to make it to Mom’s party.

  You’re happy with Doug, Nathalie. The nice Nat repeated to the bad one. This Darcy was a total stranger. Yes, his voice made Thor sound like a little boy. Yes, his grip during the dance almost made me have a heart attack at twenty-four. Yes, his classic beauty was so sexy. Yes, his lips were totally and absolutely kissable. Yes, my body totally fit into his when we were dancing. Imagine how we’d fit in–

  Control yourself, Nathalie Estevez Brown!

  “Good morning, Miss Brown”, Darcy offered me a devilish smile. Or what I thought was devilish. For normal people, it probably was simply a polite smile. “Did you sleep well?”

  Oh, that voice… “Yes, thanks.” I was wearing my yoga pants and a blue tank top. Nothing sexy. Still, he was looking at me as if I were all dressed up, prepared to go to the Oscars or something. I had to break the moment. Quickly. “So, what are you doing here all by yourself?”