P&P

Chapter Fourteen

For my first day in Oakland, Charlotte took me all over the town. We went to the movies, shopped at the Outlet Mall and other local shopping centers, and even went mini golfing.

"When was the last time we went out on the town, coloring the streets in rainbows as we just did!?" I asked Charlotte at a small coffee shop that night, which would be our last stop before heading over to her apartment.

"I don't even remember." Charlotte said honestly, taking a sip of her chai tea latte. "One thing's for certain though, it has been way too long." I couldn't have said it better. "Any word from Jane yet?"

I had finally told Charlotte about the whole Jane situation on the ride to Oakland. I was in serious need to talk to someone about it, since I had been holding this information in for far too long. The whole situation seemed utterly...fishy to me. And Charlotte being the sensible, understanding best friend she was, thought the same.

"Just the lunch thing with Caroline." I told her with a shrug. "I thought she was our friend, you know? She wasn't always exactly friendly, but I thought she at least liked us a little bit."

"Some rich people are just like that." She said with a shrug. "But I can't believe Charlie would do that to Jane. I think Caroline might have put him up to it. Or Darcy, even."

"Ugh. Those two seem perfect for each other." I said bitterly. I finished the rest of my espresso in one large sip and slammed the cup back down on the table, just to slam something. I was at a total loss of what to do for my sister. "Poor Jane."

"I know." Charlotte said. "Jane's never had her heart broken like this before."

"Jane's never liked a guy as much as she liked Charlie."

"What are we gonna do?" I shrugged at her question.

"I don't have a clue."

My classes were all set up online for the first semester on the University's website, and when picking a major I chose English Literature at random. I figured that since I've read most of the classics anyway it shouldn't be that hard. Configuring a career around it, however, would be another story. I told myself that I would figure it out along the way.

It was more than a little awkward coming face to face with Richard again. Especially since I ran into him in Charlotte's living room while she was out. Talk about awkward moments. But luckily we both powered through it and he even accepted my apology.

"There's no need to be sorry, Elizabeth." Richard assured me. "If the chemistry isn't there, it just isn't there."

"I'm glad you understand." I told him. He offered me his hand to shake, and I took it, although it weird-ed me out a bit. He went into Charlotte's kitchen, leaving me to wander about her new apartment.

Most of her furniture was from her bedroom back home, I noticed. I recognized the rosebud loveseat and her two white bookshelves against a wall. There was also the gypsy lamp I bought her for her birthday two years ago sitting on the coffee table, with a few scattered magazines and mail.

"When did you say Charlotte was coming back from the grocery store?" I asked Richard, leaning over the bar window separating the kitchen from the living room.

"She should be back any minute now." Richard said, looking down at his watch. "Miss De Bourgh is coming over for dinner tonight, and everything must be prepared perfectly. We're having Italian, as many of my boss's restaurants specialize in, in honor of her great success with The Basil Leaf."

"Wow. Every time you talk about her you manage to make her sound like royalty." I noted.

"You could call her the Queen of Italian food. Her first restaurant opened up in Sicily when she was only twenty-one, and from there her business in restaurants went national."

"Is Miss De Bourgh Italian?"

"Ironically, she isn't. You see, this makes her success all the more profound. Since her first restaurant, a whole enterprise of different kinds of restaurants have emerged, of a variety of cultures, all across the globe."

"I'd love to have her job." I said, thinking about the cash that woman must be making. The front door finally opened to reveal Charlotte, two humongous canvas bags in each hand. "Geez, how much food do you need for four people?"

"It's actually going to be seven." Charlotte answered, putting down the bags on the counter of the kitchen. "Miss De Bourgh's daughter is coming, along with two of her nephews."

"So you'll just be slaving away over a stovetop all day, you lovely housewife, you." I teased, and she stuck her tongue out at me. "If I knew this dinner was going to be such a big deal, you really didn't have to invite me."

"Nonsense." Richard assured me. "You are Charlotte's guest. Since the dinner is taking place here, it wouldn't make sense for you to eat anywhere else but here."

"But there's a McDonald's just down the street."

"You don't need any more of an ass than you already have, Lizzie." Charlotte insulted, and I gasped fake-dramatically. "Honestly, it's no trouble. You know I like cooking. I say the more the merrier." Richard just beamed, and I couldn't help but fake-gag.

What can I say? I couldn't imagine a worse fate for myself than being somebody's housewife.

"Be sure to wear whatever you brought that's best." Richard told me as I made my way into Charlotte's guest bedroom. It was an hour until Miss De Bourgh's party would arrive, and Richard seemed to be in the middle of a panic attack. "The least offensive outfit you've brought should do. Oh, and please avoid using any slang during dinner. And we all know you have quite the sharp tongue, but I would really appreciate it if you didn't show it off at this of most inappropriate times."

"Again, that McDonald's is just down the street if you want me to-"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine!" Richard said, smiling a bit too fakely to seem sincere. It was more on the puppy-murderer side of creepy. "This dinner is going to be just grand!"

"No worries, Richard." I assured him. "I'll be on my best behavior tonight." He seemed to calm down, for a while anyway, and I entered the guest bedroom in prospects of what to wear.

I curled my hair and pulled on the only dress I brought with me, and was finally ready for dinner fifteen minutes early. I checked my phone to discover a text from Jane I had missed seeing that afternoon. It read, I know you're worried about me, but I'm having fun in LA. Going out with some friends I met today. Details later.

I smiled, hoping what Jane had sent me was true. I made a mental note to call her later, just to check up on her, and got up from my bed. After a few paces around my room, I finally emerged out of the guest bedroom, stopping short just as the guests made their way through the door.

Miss De Bourgh was one of those old ladies who looked like they saw a plastic surgeon on a weekly basis. Her cheeks were taut, as if injected one too many a time, her face was matte with powdered makeup, and her hair was a glistening silver color. She was also wearing a power suit, which was enough to intimidate me. She did not look the least bit friendly. Maybe Richard's admiration for her was rooted in fear. It would make much more sense, and would make me more sympathetic to Richard's case.

The girl, who I supposed was her daughter, looked sickly pale, especially since she was wearing no makeup. Her hair hung limply over her shoulders, which were hunched in discomfort and she had dark circles around her eyes. I wondered for a moment what was wrong with her.

The first boy had honey blonde hair and a smile on his face that looked absolutely permanent. Some people just wake up in a good mood every day. He looked like one of those people. I would never be that way.

Especially since the second boy was Darcy.