From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 19

Nat

"Your earrings are lovely. Where did you get them? Tiffany's, right?"

"Actually, it was with a street vendor", Fanny replied, making Patty blush uncontrollably. "It only cost about five dollars. But it was in front of Tiffany's, so I must admit you've got a good eye", she finished sarcastically.

I knew I shouldn't be encouraging Fanny, so I pretended to cough to disguise a chuckle. Nobody in the car was fooled, though. Specially Doug, who was biting his lower lip so a laugh wouldn't escape his throat.

I shouldn't be shocked that Fanny, regardless of the fact she'd be spending the weekend at Patty's house, was treating her hostess like trash. Still, I was. I didn't like ash-kissers neither, but I could've forgiven the flatterer if I reckoned their actions to be well intended.

Fanny clearly didn't agree with me.

I needed to have yet another talk to her about her discourtesy towards Patty, who had been nothing but gentle to the both of us since we all met.

"You know what my mom always says to me, Fanny?" My soon-to-be-former-best-friend knew I was daring her.

"That you should never shave before a first date?" She accepted the dare, and made Doug laugh and Patty confused at the same time.

"What?! Why?" Patty wanted to know. Poor Patty... She kept giving Fanny more ammunition. Not that my best friend needed it.

"So you won't be tempted to lose your panties on your first date, silly." Oh, dear. Fanny was so good at being cynical, and terrible at keeping her foggy mouth shut!

I decided to finish that nonsensical conversation once and for all. "Back to my mom's great advice, which has nothing to do with shaving or first dates."

"Or panties." Fanny wanted to get punched or what? I turned my upper body from the front seat, so I could face her, and she could see my killer look. She did. And she got the message. "Sorry," She whispered back, and I was convinced I wouldn't be interrupted again.

"Anyway..." I stared back again, only to make sure her lips were unmoving. They were, and I almost laughed as I noticed Fanny was not only dead silent, but also kind of scared. Good. "My mom always says it's further more troublesome to be nasty than it is to be nice." And my grandmother always said she preferred telling people to fog off, but that part I left out.

It worked. For the first time ever since we were both nine years old, Fanny's face got pinkish. And Patty's eyes were watery with gratefulness. I immediately felt a little better about that weekend, and a smile spread on my face, brightening it up.

That was, until Doug spoke again.

"I love your smile." There was nothing wrong with that sentence. Nor was there anything wrong with the man saying it. The problem was entirely about me. Because, as Doug spoke, I couldn't hear his voice. Instead, I heard a thunderous, dark voice with a thick and sexy British accent.

Oh, boy. I was in big trouble.

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