Page 5 of Perfectly Right

Darcy tapped on his phone and looked at his calendar. He frowned; the second half of the month was more open than he’d recalled. “Next Saturday? At Etta’s, that place with those sandwiches you like?”

“Absolutely not,” she cried. “I am not meeting strange men at any of my favorite places. It has to be neutral ground, not in my neighborhood, and crowded in case I need to disappear fast.”

Smiling, he agreed. “I’ll make sure not to set you up with anyone I suspect might be a serial killer.”

“Or a weirdo.”

He shrugged. “Well, I’ll try, but theyaremy friends.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“You’re an idiot, Lizzy. But please put me down as chaperone.” Charlotte’s voice rose in pitch, her enthusiasm clearly growing. “I’ll be the protective friend, gawking weirdly from a nearby table. And if you don’t like him, we’ll switch seats and I get a turn.”

“You two-timer! You can’t cheat on...on whatshisname.”

“Exactly! Whatshisname McFeelings. He’s only memorable in the worst ways, but he pays for dinner, asks about my day, and does whatever I ask when we?—”

“Stop sharing!” Elizabeth muted her phone and sped up her pace to catch the green light for the crosswalk. She could hear Charlotte laughing when she unmuted her. “You want a date with Will Darcy?”

“Why not? He’s smart, rich, has gorgeous hair and a tight bum, and he’s hot. Especially when he smiled at me that one time.”

“Ha, right.” This was awkward. If ever two people had no romantic potential, it would be Charlotte Lucas, aspiring playwright and tattoo artist, and Will Darcy, corporate titan. Elizabeth smiled at a woman walking towards her pushing twodachshunds in a stroller, and tried to think of what to say to her best friend.

“Chill, Lizzy. I’m kidding. Darcy is not my type. Besides, are you sure he’s over his crush on you?”

Of course he is.Elizabeth could always count on Charlotte to be blunt and truthful, but her advice this morning wasn’t helping to settle her thoughts about the deal she’d made with Darcy.What am I doing? Wasn’t it enough that I was friendly to him? Why does he want to arrange dates for me?

‘I can’t stop thinking about you. I need to stop wanting you, but I can’t.’

Would she ever be able to forget his shocking words? Or the way his intense, vulnerable expression had darkened when she pushed him away, using harsh words to convey that her feelings were the opposite of his? He’d disappeared after a whispered apology and they had not seen each other again until last night when he proposed this matchmaking scheme.

Clearly, he’s past liking me too much. Is this guilt over whatever he did to break up Jane and Charlie—or over what he said to me? Is it a joke on me?

He was a serious man but he could not be serious about matchmaking. Darcy? The man who, by the luck of his genes and bank account, could have anything and anyone he wanted? Who was she supposed to set him up with? And what couldshehave in common withhisfriends, even if he claimed they weren’t like him?

She was being unfair. He was a handsome man and he did smile, albeit often at the strangest times. And he had encouraged Charlie’s return to Jane, and made clear he supported them as a couple. But when did he get so funny, joking about the serial killer qualities of his friends? This more spirited, even charming version of Will Darcy must be an anomaly; he was trying hard toappear pleasant. If it was only a small glimpse of who he could be, it made her job even more complicated.

Elizabeth had no idea of his type. Jane was useless in providing details of his romantic pursuits; she had never met, nor heard Charlie speak of Darcy dating anyone in particular. She couldn’t imagine being successful at setting him up with someone he’d actually like. To see him as a part of a couple, hanging out with Jane and Charlie, would be weird, at the very least.

She’d play it safe. Neutral. Leave her friends out of it and find someone like him: proper, well-educated, career-focused.She reached for her phone.I know at least one Miss Perfect who is not my older sister.

It wasn’t even ten-thirty on Saturday morning, and Elizabeth had a headache. Her ears hurt, too. Some people—this guy, Bill Collins, in particular—talked too much. It was a long thirty minutes before she could excuse herself and flee to the ladies’ room. After taking a moment to collect herself and enjoy the silence, she shot off a quick text to Darcy that began with half a dozen thumbs-down emojis.

Setting me up with the guy who sells you paper? Make a note for next time: taller, no facial piercings, trained to use forks and napkins in public.

Her phone rang a moment later. Darcy spoke hurriedly, and she could hear loud noises behind his deep voice. “He was alast-minute substitution—your real date’s flight was delayed last night and he didn’t let me know until five this morning.”

“His flight, hmm? Too busy burying the last body?”

He chuckled. “I promised you no serial killers, but hewasin Wyoming, where there is plenty of land to dig graves.”

“Were you setting me up with a cowboy?”

“Of course,” came his smooth reply. “They don’t have beards, enjoy the outdoors and long romantic horseback rides, and understand how to treat snake bites and chafing.”

She couldn’t hold back a quiet if incredulous laugh. “Sure, that checks all the boxes for my dream date. How was—” A loud clanging filled her ear. “Wait, where are you? It’s very noisy. Are you still on your date?”

“No, that ended an hour ago. I’m at the gym.”

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