Pride and Papercuts (The Austens #5) - Staci Hart Page 0,6
to work with her,” I noted, knowing it was so far from the point, it was on another continent.
At that, Georgie looked so disappointed, something in my chest twisted.
“No, you don’t have to be friends with her, but you could stand to keep her from hating you. I’m going to go dance. Have another drink by yourself and brood for a while. I’ll find you when it’s time to go.”
I didn’t form a response quickly enough—she was already gone, swallowed up in a sea of blond wigs.
3
But Really, Though
LANEY
“I think I hate him.”
I scowled up Amsterdam the next morning as Jett and I walked toward work.
Jett laughed. “I don’t think he’s nuts about you either. But if it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure he hates me more.”
“Then he must be a terrible judge of character.”
Jett gave me a look that I ignored. “If some dude in a loincloth was dancing with you, I’d have to fight a deep impulse to turn his face inside out.”
“So it’s a brother thing that makes you turn into apes when you see your sister with a guy?”
He shrugged. “We know how guys think, and we don’t want anybody thinking that about our sisters.”
“Oh, so it’s safe to assume all you thought about Georgie was lewd?”
“Of course not. I mean, I won’t say I didn’t have thoughts, but they weren’t what he imagined. I can guarantee that.”
“I can’t believe the two of them are related,” I said. “She’s so easy to like, and he’s almost impossible to. How that rude, elitist ass comes from the same genetics as that sweet, smiling girl is beyond me.”
“Fuck that guy for not wanting to dance with you. And for insulting you. Maybe you’re right—he must be a shitty judge of character.”
The slight still stung, though I couldn’t guess why. No one liked to be insulted, sure, but something about that judgment from him weighed more. Maybe it was in how he had looked at me, like his favor, when bestowed, was a minor miracle, and if anyone enjoyed a challenge, it was me. Or maybe it was that command that rippled off him like radio waves, bending everyone in the vicinity to his will, impossible to resist.
Either way, it sucked.
“It doesn’t even matter,” I said. “I couldn’t care less whether or not he likes me or would dance with me. Who said I would have danced with him anyway? I mean, could you even imagine him dancing?” A laugh burst out of me as I did just that. “I bet he’d just stand there, frowning, wondering what the hell to do with his hands. At least he’s in no danger of ever getting laugh lines. But I bet with a little dirt, you could plant something in the creases between his eyebrows.”
Jett snickered.
Realizing I’d been talking about Darcy too long, I shifted the conversation back to Jett. “Georgie danced with you all night. I don’t think I saw her even talk to Liam for the rest of the party.”
“I would have kissed her too, if her brother wasn’t hovering. Can’t blame him, though.”
“I’ll blame him for the both of us.”
Jett watched me for a beat. “Man, he really got under your skin. You haven’t stopped talking about him since last night.”
I cut him a look. “He insinuated we were beneath him, Jett. He insulted me behind my back and was rude to my face, and now I have to work with the asshole. So maybe I’m not feeling very charitable about him. I think I’m entitled.”
He pulled open the door to Wasted Words and held it for me. “Well, you’d better find a way to put it away so you can work with him. Otherwise, your mouth is gonna get you in trouble.”
“What’s new?” I asked as I passed.
Jett snorted a laugh, but as we walked inside, his stride broke when he saw Georgie sitting next to Cam at the bar.
He recovered quickly, his smile tugging up on one side—the male Bennet survival trait passed down from my father, used regularly to charm their way through literally anything, particularly trouble. I was glad he’d gone for dapper this morning and wondered if he’d known she would be here. I didn’t miss him smoothing the thin navy tie he wore with a sky-blue plaid tailored shirt, the sleeves cuffed to his elbows. The color, along with the contrast of his dark hair, made his irises reflect such intense a shade of blue, they looked illuminated.