Chapter 13
George's occasional visits were like a rush of fresh air for Elizabeth's family. When he came, they usually stayed at home, playing cards while listening to the tales of his travels abroad. Amanda adored him, Lydia behaved in front of him and Elizabeth was beginning to feel that he was more like a friend than a real boyfriend. They were never on their own, and, though attentive, their physical interaction was non-existent when he was at her house. Kisses were limited to the moment when he arrived or left and even then they transmitted very little. He still did that tongue thing that she wasn't very comfortable with, but now that Elizabeth was getting used to it, another thing was bothering her about this 'relationship'. His kisses, deep throat or not, didn't transmit anything, his smile or his caresses didn't move her. She wasn't feeling anything. There was no expectancy about him calling or not, no butterflies or fluttering when she saw him and -shame on you, Elizabeth- no incipient arousal between her legs when he kissed her. He was traveling a lot, and in four weeks of dating, they had seen each other only three times and never on their own. Now he was announcing that he was leaving again and Elizabeth was wondering if they had a relationship at all.
When one man seemed to be vanishing from her life, another one was beginning to show up. William Darcy, the new daily visitor at Rosings. He arrived early in the morning every day and together with Richard, was the last to leave. They were working hard on the editing, Darcy revising the material that was edited on the previous day while Richard did his job and then going back to his cousin to discuss what he had seen. Darcy even consulted with Elizabeth every now and then, asking her about her continuity notes or inquiring about a particular take when he had doubts about it. She really liked that he asked her opinion and help and she never thought that her previous work would be so useful at this stage in the process of making the movie. It made her feel important and needed.
The more she saw of Darcy, the more she compared these two men that were now filling her existence. In looks they weren't so different. Both tall, with dark hair and eyes, though Darcy had this air of manliness, of confidence mingled with determination and purpose in life that George lacked. While Darcy was a visionary, working hard to reach his goal, George seemed to have no plans, no expectations, no way in life, just travelling, filming, living the moment, going where a race or a commercial would take him. He seemed to be doing very well with that, she never heard him complain about money and his expensive car and clothes showed that his lifestyle provided him with a good income. What bothered her was that for him it seemed to be just that: fun, clothes, cars and travels and nothing else.
During this time Elizabeth also confirmed that the intended relationship between Darcy and Ann de Bourgh didn't exist. Those two weren't a couple, it was more than obvious, so now she was sure that George's information on that matter was not accurate or at least not recent. From the other people at Rosings she learned that they had been an item in the past, but that that had been over for months now. They seemed to be friends, occasionally going out to have lunch together, though she was almost sure that they were seeing each other more to talk about work related subjects than for personal matters. She was glad that they were not together -not that it mattered her-, because Ann would never make Darcy happy.
What also caught Elizabeth's attention in these weeks after Darcy's arrival was how subtly and slowly the director's attentiveness towards her was growing. He stopped by her desk more often than not, when consulting her about a certain scene he tried to prolong the chat and he smiled much more than she had seen him before, at least to her. She liked that, it was flattering. As days passed, this conduct became more obvious and she began to think that there was another intention behind this recently acquired friendliness. More sentimental. She preferred not to raise her expectations about this too much, maybe it was all a product of her own imagination, like a fantasy, two men interested in her at the same time, so this became her 'little secret'. It was as if by keeping this to herself, the interest that Darcy seemed to be showing in her would be more real. Her mother, sister and 'boyfriend' didn't know about this 'situation' -not even that Darcy was around her everyday- and, when inquired about him, she only told everyone that the director was barely seen at her office.
"This is not the take I wanted, Richard, I'm can't remember which one it was, but it's not this one." Darcy said to his cousin.
"Scene A47, take 4, that's what it says here." Richard went to his notes.
"I know, but it's not this one, I'm almost sure." He shook his head.
"Let's call Elizabeth, I'm sure she remembers." Richard grabbed the phone and called his assistant.
In one moment, Elizabeth was in Darcy's office where director and editor were revising the videotape with all that was edited until this moment.
"Lizzy," said Darcy with a frown, "do you recall if this was the take I marked? I don't think it's this one."
"If I marked it, it's because you said so." She replied.
"I told you, Will," Richard mocked his cousin, "Elizabeth never makes a mistake, this is the take you asked for."
Darcy shot her a disapproving glance, as if by taking Richard's side she would be betraying him. "All right, we'll keep this one, though I know it's not the one I want."
"Lizzy, sweetheart," Richard said with that manner he always teased his cousin when addressing his ex-assistant as 'Lizzy'. "Please, ask Jerry to put all four takes of scene A47 together in VHS for Will here to see. Let's show him how wrong he is about this, will you?"
"Sure." She smiled at the sight of Darcy's frown.
"Okay, do as you want. I'll cut the bloody scene anyway." Darcy protested, though there was a hint of playfulness in his tone. "It isn't important and I must make this damn movie less than two hours or it won't enter the commercial circuit."
Elizabeth and Richard laughed at his outburst. Darcy laughed too.
"It's nearly lunch time," said the editor. "We'll be in here for a while, Elizabeth. Would you order some sandwiches for us to eat?"
"Any preferences?"
"We'll leave it in your capable hands."
Elizabeth knew by now what they usually had for lunch, so guessing what they would wasn't so difficult. "All right."
"Mine without mayonnaise," said Darcy as she walked to the door. "Richard says I'm fat."
"You are." Richard laughed.
On the way out she heard Darcy teasing his cousin, "Does your wife know that you are calling your assistant 'sweetheart'?"
"Are you crazy?" Was Richard's reply. "She'll cut off my balls off if she finds out."
"Then I have something very interesting to tell her during dinner tomorrow night," was what Elizabeth heard before closing the door.
Sandwiches arrived and Elizabeth gave them to the gentleman reviewing the edit of the movie on VHS.
"Elizabeth," Richard told her with a mouthful of ham and tomato. "Are you going out for lunch?"
"No, I'm having a sandwich here too."
"Then why don't you join us?" Darcy said quickly. "I see no point in you eating by yourself at your desk."
She raised her eyebrow. Eating with both her bosses? It wasn't that bad after all, she hated to eat alone. "All right, thank you."
Elizabeth sat with them and listened to how they worked while they had lunch. For her, being able to see these two 'geniuses' of filmmaking together was a unique experience. They were both clever, professional and they had a very clear idea of what was good or not. Richard suggested some cuts to change the pace of the narrative and Darcy took note about certain details to evaluate them with the sound team.
"And this is B32, take ... ten?" Richard raised his eyebrows.
Darcy glanced quickly at his assistant and then back at the TV when he recognized the scene they shot ten times because of Caroline's impossibility to express her anger. "Well, yes, we did it ten times."
Richard turned his head and looked at Elizabeth, who was biting her lower lip to repress a smile. "Ten times, really?"
"Yes," she replied. "Miss Benjamin was sort of relaxed for that scene and there was no way she would look angry."
"She really looks pissed here, what did you do to her, Will?"
"Oh, nothing," Darcy said casually. "Just a little coaching, we all helped her to get into the appropriate mood for the scene. Did we not?"
Both, director and editor looked at Elizabeth to confirm what Darcy was saying.
"Oh no, don't include me in that 'getting her into the right mood' squad. You were the one that made her cry, not I." Elizabeth exclaimed.
"You made her cry?" Richard laughed.
"Actually, Charles and Hurst were responsible for that."
"Coward, you are not telling him the whole truth," said the assistant.
"What? What do you have to accuse him of?" The editor inquired. "I always wanted to know how he acts when filming."
"I don't know if I should, I would certainly embarrass him." Elizabeth smiled playfully.
"I'm not afraid of you." Darcy returned her smile.
"Before that take was done," Elizabeth spoke while looking at the director with a challenging smile, "he said something about doing it 15 times if necessary. Just imagine, midday, Africa, summer. Our brains were frying and the actors' makeup was melting down their faces. But he didn't stop, he likes to torture people, he enjoys it."
"My brain was frying too." Darcy replied.
"And why did she cry?" Richard asked. "Did her nose start bleeding?"
"No," Elizabeth answered, "He and Charles were together in this, with only a glance they schemed and did this whole thing. Charles attacked her, the actors started arguing and then Mr. Hurst released a belch that left everyone astonished."
"Theodore Hurst belched?"
"Like an hippopotamus," Darcy laughed.
"And he just stood there, allowing all this to happen, yelling at poor Miss Benjamin that she should go on, not matter what happened. What is that they say? Show must go on?"
"But I did obtain a good performance from her," Darcy defended himself.
"I knew you were mean, Will, but not to this extent," said Richard.
"Tell him I'm not that bad, Lizzy," Darcy asked his assistant.
"I think I should return to my desk." Elizabeth rose, smiling impertinently. "I have work to do."
"So it's my turn to call you a coward, you are running away." The director said with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
"I am not afraid of you. As I told you once, you may bark, but you don't bite."
"And then, Miss Bennet," Darcy spoke with a soft, seductive voice, "I think I should warn you a second time: don't be so sure about that."
Never in her life had Elizabeth blushed in such a way, and to make it worse, in front of Richard, who was looking at the exchange happening in front of him with an amused smile. There was an obvious wicked and flirting connotation in Darcy' tone and his eyes devouring every inch of her face made zillions of butterflies twirl inside her head and stomach. Quickly, she gathered the rest of their uneaten lunch and headed towards the door.
Darcy sat back on his chair, boasting to himself with the thought of 'strike one'.
"You are playing a dangerous game, William." Richard said to his cousin while looking at the screen.
"Bugger off, Richard," he replied.
The editor laughed. "I should have thought that something was going on when you called me at midnight asking me to hire her."
"You were desperate and she's the best assistant you ever had. And it wasn't midnight in Canada." Darcy said with a smile.
"That's true," Richard admitted his point. "I thought you didn't like to mess around at work."
"I would never mess around with her," Darcy said sternly.
Richard glanced at the other man and realized that his intentions were more serious than he imagined. And this was not his business. Darcy was old enough to know what he was doing. "B44, take 2, I think we will have to re-record sound in this one. There's a background noise."
"I'll tell Charles that we need to re-record and send him the material. He can do that from LA." Darcy knew that his cousin wasn't fond of these sort of things and was grateful that he wasn't questioning him in this. After a pause, the director said. "Thank you, Richard."
"You are welcome," Richard patted his shoulder, "just try not to break your heart, or hers."
If Elizabeth had been confused about her sentiments towards the director until now, this last 'exchange' between them left her completely at a loss of what to think of him. He was flirting with her, it was now undeniable. The acknowledgment of this situation brought lots of mixed emotions in her. In one way she was flattered that she caught the interest of a man like Darcy but at the same time she was afraid that it would be just that, flirting, a game, some kind of entertainment to pass his time. Though he didn't seem to be the type of man that would do that, the circumstance wasn't improbable.
Lying in bed, in her tiny apartment at Hunsford Gate, she couldn't help but to fantasize about a relationship with the manly director. He was so much taller than her, so ... big that she wondered if they would match physically. Was everything of large proportions in him? She smiled, what a wicked thought. He would surely suffocate her during lovemaking, he seemed so ... no, she should not be thinking about shagging with this man while she still had doubts about his integrity. First, she should clear all those doubts that George planted in her mind. That inheritance thing, his sister, everything. There was no way she would do it if that were still shadowing her opinion of him. And there was George too. They weren't seeing each other now, George was abroad, but their relationship wasn't over yet. They were ... she couldn't find the appropriate way to describe what they had, what they were but whatever it was, it wasn't over, so ending her ... whatever with George should be done before having a ... whatever with Darcy.
Having something with the movie director William Darcy. Wow, that sounded important. And sexy. She wondered if his ...
The phone rang and she was startled out of her thoughts about Darcy.
"Hello?"
"Lizzy, darling, how are you doing?"
"George, where are you?" She sat up.
"Italy. What are you doing?"
Elizabeth smiled, flattered that he was calling her from Italy. "In bed, there's not much I can do here."
"Maybe I could accompany you to Kent for a couple of days when I'm back. That way we would be on our own," he replied with a wicked voice.
Suddenly, she felt uncomfortable just with that thought. "I ... yeah, maybe, but you'll get bored here while I'm working."
"Yeah, maybe. Perhaps I can drive to Kent and stay for the night. Anyway, I just called to see how you were doing. Have to go."
"Bye, George, see you when you're back."
"Bye lovely."
Elizabeth hung the phone and closed her eyes. George. He was the nearest thing to a boyfriend she had so she tried to picture herself making love with George in her narrow bed of this not so nice, small apartment. Yuck. She transported that scene to a nice, luxurious hotel. Yuck. Maybe it was the man what was wrong in that picture, not the background. She changed George for Darcy. Mmmmmh, yummy. She replaced the luxurious hotel for a country cottage. That one was simply perfect.
As sleep came, a spicy scent enveloped her and she knew that this picture was the right one, that this man was right, too. She dreamed and her mind sailed upon a cloud of woody smoke.
Darcy arrived that morning a little later than usual in a mood that was more jovial than she had seen him until now. He approached her desk and after a merry 'good morning'; he left a small chocolate next to her phone. He winked at her and, whistling low, he went to his office.
That was enough to leave Elizabeth so distracted -and flattered- that she couldn't concentrate on her work. Richard had asked her to make an inventory of everything canned in the store room so she spent the morning putting all the material in order and now she was loading all that information in her computer to ready the list he requested. But even that was becoming difficult because the image of the man was there in her head and the chocolate was waiting for her on her desk.
After lunch, with Richard out on a meeting, she found herself practically alone in that wing of the building. Only Jeff and Darcy were there. Her eyes were drawn to the director's closed door more often than not, her mind was focused on that chocolate she ate after lunch and her heart fluttered at the thought of him. There was an uncommon scent in the air, a lethargic atmosphere that distracted her and that only allowed her think about him. She was feeling a strong urge to see him, to be close to him that she just couldn't resist.
She sat back in her chair and decided to drink a cup of coffee as way to take those thoughts out of her head. But then, what if he wanted some coffee too? The poor man had been, after all, working uninterruptedly for nearly three hours, on his own, with his eyes focused on a screen. He probably was tired or maybe asleep. Smiling, she recalled those times when she brought him coffee while they were shooting. How he instantly brightened and how that grateful smile lit up his face when she gave him his mug, as if his life depended on that. She went to the kitchenette, fixed a light coffee with a little milk and knocked softly before opening the door.
An intense, spicy scent reached her at the moment the door opened in front of her. The man was stretched out in his chair, relaxed, elbow on the desk and his eyes fixed on the TV. He turned his head to her and said with a welcoming smile,
"Oh, Elizabeth," His tone was almost lustful because of the sight of his mug filled with steaming coffee. "You read my mind. I was about to ask you for one."
"You smoke," was the only thing she could come up with. He was surrounded by this halo of smoke and was holding a half-smoked cigar was between his fingers.
"I'll put it out if it bothers you." He moved forward to reach the ashtray.
"No, please, I ..." she put the mug on the desk and stepped back to return to her desk, "I don't want to interrupt you, I ... I have work to do ... I ..." She was at loss of words, she was confused, dizzy, as if the scent of his cigar would be bringing back memories of things that never happened, stirring feelings she had never felt. She wanted to stay and to run away, she wanted something to happen, but knew not what it could be.
"Would you stay for a moment?"
"I ... I ... I was about to drink my coffee too, I ..." Again she felt that tickle in her stomach and a need to escape from the room at once.
"Bring it here. I want to ask your opinion about something."
She hesitated for a moment, then she agreed. "Sure."
Hastily, she left, grabbed her coffee, took a deep breath and entered his office.
"Sit down, please. I'll put this out. You look as if you are going to throw up." He said on noticing an unusual pallor in her face. Darcy knew that not every woman could handle the smell of cigar in a closed room, even if it had air conditioning, so he preferred to interrupt his pleasure in favor of her comfort.
"No, I'm fine, I'm ..." But he was already squeezing it on the ash tray, something she was grateful of because the intense smell indeed making her dizzy.
Darcy rose to pull out a chair for her and sat in his large leather armchair again. With the remote, he turned on a CD player that was on the other side of the room.
"Now, I want your opinion about this song. I need a woman's perspective."
Elizabeth shifted her weight on the chair and listened attentively. A piano started playing and a man's voice said,
"Will, this is what I came with after seeing the rough cut you sent me. Needs some polishing, but you will have an idea of how it'll sound."
"Is that Robbie Williams?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
"Yes." He drank some of his coffee.
She wanted to say 'wow' because of the familiar way her favorite singer was addressing the director but she refrained herself from doing it.
"We know each other," Darcy noticed her expression. "I co-produced one of his videos."
"Oh," she nodded. Would it be too forward to ask him to get her Robbie William's autograph? She could always tell him it was for Lydia.
"I can get you an autographed picture if you want, and tickets for his next show."
She was almost offended by how easily he read her thoughts. "I'll tell my sister Lydia, she's a great fan of his."
"Yeah, right," he repressed a chuckle because of her obstinacy and pride.
The song started, interrupting their 'conversation'. Elizabeth listened quietly, staring at the carpet at her feet while Darcy laid his head back and closed his eyes, linking his hands on his stomach. The song was about love, loss, pain and longing. In certain parts, it was even sad, as if no hope was left for the two lovers that were apart. The chorus was intense, powerful and while it didn't transmit any kind of hope for them, it spoke of their strength and will to overcome the obstacles that existed between them. It was so heart-warming that Elizabeth wanted to cry.
"It's beautiful." Elizabeth said when it finished. "It's just beautiful."
"You are not saying this only because you are Robbie's big fan, are you?" Darcy teased her.
"No, not at all," she smiled. "I love it."
"I like the melody, though I think the lyrics are a little too dramatic." He returned her smile.
"Well, the movie is quite dramatic in certain parts, I think it's a good combination."
"Then," he sighed, "we'll trust millions of dollars to your opinion."
"Well, I think you should ..." She frowned.
"Don't worry, we'll test it before releasing it." He chuckled.
"Yes. That would be the best."
Darcy was still reclined in his chair with his hands linked on his stomach, with his eyes fixed on hers and devouring every inch of her face. As a way of distraction, Elizabeth hastily drank her coffee -which was freezing cold by now- and fiddled nervously with her fingers.
"I think I should go back to my desk, I have work to do," she announced when she couldn't handle his stare any longer.
He glanced at his watch. "I think it's time to go home. It's 5.30."
She did the same. "I didn't realize it was so late, I ..."
"Do you want a lift home?" He asked in a low voice.
"No, thanks." She blushed and rose to leave. His tone was making her feel even more confused. "I ... I can ... I'm fine."
"All right." He didn't avert his eyes from hers, making her even more nervous than she was.
Elizabeth walked towards the door and the most unusual thought -and maybe more out of timing too- came to her mind. She stopped and turned to ask him, "have you talked to Charles Bingley lately?"
For a second Darcy was silent, as if thinking of a reply. "No. Not lately. Why?"
"No, nothing, I ... nothing." She smiled briefly, sensing that there was some kind of change in his countenance that she couldn't decipher. "See you tomorrow." She left without waiting for his reply.
"No doubt you will." Darcy said to the empty space.
If Darcy's increasing forwardness was bringing uneasiness and confusion in Elizabeth, in him, it was producing more and more anticipation. He was the kind of man that, once he made up his mind, he just went for it. And now he decided that he was not willing to wait any longer. He wanted Elizabeth and he was going after her.
In Canada he was all longing. The moment he began shooting with Mark, his usual assistant before hiring her, he realized that it was not that what he wanted. Mark was extremely efficient and an excellent professional, technically he was even better than Elizabeth, but it was not the same thing as working with her. He wasn't the sunshine of the crew like she was, he didn't bring him his coffee light with a little milk and he didn't care if Darcy was getting an ulcer from drinking it black. In Canada he missed the sound of her voice, her laughter, the smell of her hair in the mornings or her silent company while they were shooting. The day he decided that he didn't care about that old 'affair' with John Lucas, all what he could think about was seeing her again. If that relationship ever progressed -he doubted that it existed as such as no one ever mentioned it again- he knew that it was over now. John traveled to Bermuda -lucky bastard- with his wife and his youngest son to celebrate the announcement that his first grandchild was on its way. The old man was so happy because of this that he became the model husband and father, going away without finding his protégée in a new job. The task of relocating her was left to Darcy, who didn't miss the chance to find her a job as close to him as possible. He even thought of taking her to his office in Derbyshire, but the Rosings possibility came up and seemed the best choice.
Since he learned that Richard finally hired her, he had been planning this. He wanted her, he wanted everything of her, now, but he knew that he could not obtain it just like that. Women liked to be courted, and that was exactly what he was doing. Like in filmmaking, success was more effectively achieved when good pre-production was done. No one should misunderstand his nature, no, he liked to improvise too and he was very good at it, though, when women were concerned, he knew that a little wooing was necessary to obtain good results. And this woman, in particular, deserved to be courted. Given their past and present situation, their 'boss-assistant' relationship, care and good preparation were the keys to success. She was, after all, the assistant he unsuccessfully tried to ignore, the person he tired to escape from but that he couldn't live without, the woman he loved and that he wanted as a wife. Because marriage, at the appropriate time, of course, was in his plans too, no matter what she did in the past. He wanted to give her all that she lacked, to bring respectability back to her life and with time, if everything came out as he planned, to share all his possessions, make her the mistress of Pemberley, his companion in life. A girlfriend, a lover, a wife.
He re-lit his cigar and puffed it one, two, three times. Elizabeth Darcy, his wife. That really sounded nice.
Every weekend Elizabeth returned to Meryton to stay with her family. Usually on Sundays she met Jane, either in London or at her home, but now that Jane's figure was becoming altered she respected her friend's decision to keep the situation a secret for now and she traveled to London to be with her. George was still abroad, from Italy he went directly to France to film another race or something so they weren't seeing each other this weekend. His absence didn't bother Elizabeth too much, really, she preferred it this way. This Sunday in particular, Lydia was staying home with her stupid friend Mary King and she was not in the mood to hear her mother complaining about them or the girls' foolishness all the afternoon. Going to Jane's was the perfect excuse to leave home so she readied her bag and headed towards her friend's flat, where she would stay for the night and depart for Kent in the morning.
"I'll have to buy new pants. I don't fit in these ones anymore." Jane unbuttoned her trousers.
"I don't notice any difference," replied Elizabeth after eating the last roll.
"They are tighter at the waist." The make up artist sat back on the couch while lowering the zipper. "Especially after eating."
"So how's the new job going on?"
"Oh, Lizzy, it's fabulous. I really like it. Everyone is so nice."
"Did you tell them you were pregnant?"
"No," Jane shook her head. "I'm afraid they would fire me."
"Don't be ridiculous, Jane. You should tell them. They will notice it soon."
"I'll wait until the first trimester is over. It won't be too long anyway." Jane rose and took the tea things to the kitchen. "Look to see if there is something better to watch on TV. I'm getting tired of that show."
Elizabeth took the remote and started scanning the channels, frowning. "News ... more news ... animal planet ... discovery channel ... golf ... tennis ... cooking ... oh, bugger, why is that there is nothing decent to watch on a Sunday afternoon?"
Jane was already back. "Is it that bad?"
"Football ... more football ... handcrafting ... horse jumping ..." Elizabeth paused in her search and stared, mouth open, at the screen. "Oh, my God. That guy is really hot."
Jane raised her eyes to the screen. "Wow. What's his name?"
"I didn't catch it. But I would love to find out."
"Since when do you watch horse jumping championships?" Jane teased her.
"Since sexy guys riding black horses are jumping." She followed the rider in his turn around the ring.
"He's hot, especially in that outfit."
England's hottest horseman left the arena and Elizabeth began to scan the channels once again. "Do you want to watch a movie?"
"I think that the only good one playing today is The Matrix and I've seen it a thousand times." Jane yawned.
Elizabeth made a last attempt. "There's nothing better than this, only ..."
She had just reached E! Entertainment Television. Right there, in front of her eyes, was Charles Bingley. Jane's jaw dropped.
"Tell me about that movie you just filmed. I heard it's fabulous." Todd Newton asked the actor.
"It's a great movie." Charles smiled. "You'll see."
"And Caroline, how do you feel with going from modeling to working with one of England's most talented young directors? Was it a hard transition?"
"It was a fantastic opportunity for me to work with such talented people. I learned a lot from this experience. Very enriching. I'm dying to see how the film is coming out." She replied with a bright smile.
"We are all anxious too." Todd replied. "So, you came together to this charity ball, I guess that the rumors are true, then."
Both Charles and Caroline looked at the reporter innocently.
"The rumors about you two."
It was Charles the one who laughed and shook his head. "No, not at all. We are only good friends."
"Thank you so much for the interview," Todd smiled at the couple. "I won't detain you any longer."
Charles and Caroline left and Todd turned to the camera. "Well, we all know what that means, don't we? This is Todd Newton transmitting live from the Annual Skin Cancer Foundation Charity Ball at the Bonaventure, in Los Angeles. We'll be back after a few messages."
"He's with Caroline." Jane whispered.
"Jane, you know that's a lie. Those two are like brother and sister." Elizabeth turned off the TV.
"He's with Caroline." She repeated.
Elizabeth touched her arm, trying to bring her friend out of her trance. "Who is the one that told me not to believe everything she hears?"
"He's ..." Jane's eyes were watering with tears. "He forgot about me and now he's rolling in bed with ..."
"Oh, Jane." Elizabeth embraced her friend. "You heard him, they're only good friends. I'm sure he loves you and that they are together only to promote the film. That's why he's not coming back."
"Of course, he's too busy having sex with Caroline to do that. We gave Meg that message nearly a month ago and nothing, no news. Let's face it, Lizzy, Charles will never come back." Jane sniffed in pain and anger.
"He will," Elizabeth closed her eyes. "He'll be back before you know it."
Jane started crying in earnest and Elizabeth held her tight. Why wasn't he coming back?