Pride and Papercuts (The Austens #5) - Staci Hart Page 0,43
make sure everyone was happy and let them blow off a little steam, I had a strong suspicion it was more about mending some fence between me and Laney, though I didn’t know how she thought a party would improve my mood. When it came to Laney, things had gotten better by degrees—she’d been able to tolerate me in new and promising ways now that she’d been given a voice, a team. The respect she’d craved—the respect I’d inadvertently stripped her of—she’d regained. And I knew without a doubt that I should have listened to her from the start.
Put it on my tab.
I had intentions to dance with her again at the cocktail party, but with different results. Weeks after we’d danced the first time, I could still remember how she’d felt in my arms, what the warmth of her smile had done to me. And this time, I would end it on that note, not a fight.
A flicker of caution in my chest stopped the thought. I didn’t want to dance with her just to smooth things over. I wanted her in the circle of my arms where I could keep her, even if only for the length of a song. I wanted to bask in that smile. So I did what I always did—I gave myself permission to want those things because she would never want me, and I could never have her.
I could indulge myself because nothing would ever come from it.
A knock against my doorjamb startled me, but my heart stopped when I found Laney standing in the doorway.
She was beautiful whether she wore jeans and band T-shirts and sneakers or a pencil skirt, simply because there was something so quietly elegant in the way she wore it. Something in the way she carried herself, the lines of her hands and fingers when she gesticulated, which she did often. Or maybe it wasn’t anything she did so much as that she just was. She was confident in the most genuine way, so true to herself that even the smallest action felt meaningful. There was no pretense with Laney Bennet, only the truth of her, just as she stood before me now.
She was a vision framed in the black threshold, wearing wide-legged navy pants with a high waist that gave the illusion that she was taller than her height. I’d noticed she favored blue and wondered more than a few times if it was because of the effect it had on her eyes, amplifying them to a shade so vibrant, it was almost unnatural. Her white button-down might be satin—it held a radiant sheen, highlighting the shape of her.
But perhaps the best part was her smile, a smart, tilted expression that elicited a tug at the corner of my lips in answer.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked.
I closed my computer. “Not at all.” I gestured to the chairs.
“Thank you,” she said as she walked in and took a seat. After a deliberate inhale, she said something I didn’t expect. “I know we’ve had our differences, but I wanted to thank you for giving me a chance.”
At that, a tug at my lips persisted. “You bet me. Using bait you knew I’d take.”
She gave me a nonchalant shrug. “I didn’t honestly think you’d take it. You’re not an easily persuaded man.”
“No, I am not.”
“Anyway, your team is talented, and it’s reminded me of what I’ve been missing since leaving Connor & Cook. So thank you for trusting me with them. I hope you won’t be mad when I win.”
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.
She just kept on smiling, though her forehead quirked in some combination of amusement and assessment. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before.”
“Commit it to memory,” I said with the remnants of laughter on my face.
“Already done. Are you guys still stuck?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“I really would.”
“Then I guess it’s going to be a long week for you, Miss Bennet.”
She sighed for show, flicking her eyes to the ceiling. “Well, at least I tried.”
For a moment, we watched each other, the silence pregnant with unspoken thoughts. When she stood, so did I.
“Thanks again, Mr. Darcy,” she said, and oddly, I found myself disappointed she hadn’t said my first name.
“You’re welcome,” I said, walking around my desk. “And you should know, I’m sorry too. For my behavior. I’m … unaccustomed to meeting new people, in part because it never seems to go well.”