Happy Thanksgiving Eve my lovelies! There’s a lot going on for me at the moment, I’m gearing up A Novel Holiday for release and I have a sale starting today on Catching Lizzy in the US and the UK! It’s the perfect time for you to grab this Kindle if you don’t already own it. It’s a Kindle Countdown, so the sooner you buy it, the less you’ll pay!
In the meantime, here’s Chapter 2 of A Novel Holiday and the cover! I hope you like it. It was fun to put together!
If you missed the first two chapters, you can find the prologue here and Chapter 1 here.
Chapter 2
Will
It’d been a long time since I’d met anyone at one of these over-stuffed and supposedly full of social importance events that intrigued me, but this woman did. From the moment I’d bumped into her outside the bathrooms, she’d held herself with the poise of someone who was comfortable wherever, disguising well the unease she’d hinted at earlier.
Her almost ebony curls were pulled up, with one here and there draping in a way that framed her face. My eyes were continuously drawn to her full lips, even though her dark eyes sparkled and beckoned me to stare into their depths. I’d never found a woman so intriguing so quickly, yet the moment she tossed her shoes into the trash, I’d been fascinated. No one I’d ever met would traipse around a charity gala barefoot—even if you couldn’t see her feet.
My foot tapped as I took a sip of my Scotch. Another aspect that made me long to know her better. She drank Scotch, and not just any Scotch, but one of my favorites.
What had made me insist upon first names and first names only? Not only that, but no one ever called me “Will,” yet I’d introduced myself to her with the shortened version of my name without so much as a stutter. She’d called herself “Liz.” Had she done something similar? God, how I wanted to find out!
“Are you okay?”
Her head tilted a little to one side, highlighting the curve of her creamy neck, and I gripped my glass a little tighter. She had no idea how lovely she was. The silver gown she wore highlighted every curve of her fit body. Did she work out or was her figure one that was effortless?
“Yes,” I said nodding. What the—? Why had my voice cracked? She was turning me into an adolescent boy. This was mortifying! A question! I needed to ask her something to divert the attention from my voice. “Have you ever traveled?” There! That was a good question, wasn’t it?
“I have. I lived in London for almost a year and a half, which made Europe very accessible. My friends and I would go online when the airlines offered reduced fares and take a bank holiday weekend in Italy or spend a day in Prague, sometimes leaving early in the morning and flying back late at night.”
“What holiday did you like the most?” She ran her teeth over her lower lip while she looked up at the sky, obviously thinking, the plumpness of her lip bouncing back as the pressure was released. I could’ve groaned.
“I had favorite bits of most of my trips: the Louvre and eating pastries in Paris, walking through the carriage ruts in Herculaneum, wandering Rome and finding hidden treasure around an unexpected corner, the charm of the Christmas market in Heidelberg with the castle visible and lit up on the hill above, or the size and fun of the one in Cologne.”
“You don’t seek the usual though,” I said. “Most look at the overall picture and not the individual parts as much as you seem to do.” I certainly never had. Her perspective was unique.
“I believe people would appreciate more if they turned their attention to what is beautiful and concentrated on that versus what isn’t appealing. We should remember as much as we can with pleasure, shouldn’t we? Why mire ourselves down in the negative?”
She boldly held my gaze, and I couldn’t look away. A throat clearing made me jump. Had I been leaning in to kiss her? Her cheeks became pink, and she turned to face the view of the city.
“Mr—?”
“Yes?” I replied before my aunt’s assistant could say my surname. The anonymity I’d enjoyed while speaking with Liz had been freeing. I wasn’t William Darcy of Pemberley Books; I was just Will. I could be me and know that if she responded, it wasn’t because of the company or my bank account. If only that freedom could last longer!
“Your aunt is demanding your presence. She’s cornered—?”
“I’ll be there in a moment.” I didn’t need him to tell me who my aunt wanted me to speak with. She’d harped on it incessantly in the limo on the way to the gala. How was it I was the CEO of Pemberley Books, and my aunt still seemed to believe she could lord herself over me? It was as though I was still a young man spending my summers interning in every department, a requirement my father insisted upon every summer before I received my undergraduate from Harvard and my MBA from Wharton.
Collins, my aunt’s lackey, just stood there. Good Lord, he was the biggest kiss-ass of this century, and my aunt savored every bit of his flattery and subservience as though it was a gourmet meal.
“I said I’ll come in a moment.”
“Your aunt said now.” Collins’s eyes bulged. “She’ll be displeased if I return without you.”
“And you can tell her that I said I’ll be there when I get there. I’d like to say goodbye to my friend first, and you don’t need to be here for that.” The little rat-faced fink would tell every last detail to my aunt. She’d tried to run my love life since my father died, but I’d be damned if I actually let her do so!
I leveled my fiercest glare on Collins, who scurried, like the little rodent he was, back into the ballroom. “I apologize for that. My aunt seems to believe I’m a child who still requires parenting. Not even my own parents tried to control me as she does.”
Liz glanced toward the doors then back at me. “My parents tried, but I was fortunate enough to have family members who loved me for me and not what they wanted me to be.”
“That must have been difficult,” I said, my voice soft.
“In the beginning, when I wanted desperately to break free but was terrified of what that would mean, yes, it was, but once I made my choice and lived my life for me, it was easier. My parents were irate, of course, and don’t speak to me now, but their love had conditions attached. Love should be without conditions; we shouldn’t have to buy it, if you know what I mean.”
I cleared the fog from my throat. “I do.”
At a knock on the door, I startled and turned. Collins’s beady face was almost pressed flush to the glass. A laugh bubbled from Liz that made me smile.
“He’s persistent. I’ll give him that.”
“Too persistent,” I growled. “Let me see what my aunt wants. Are you leaving soon?”
She shook her head. “No, why?”
“Would it be okay to find you after? I’d like to talk more.”
Her smile widened some. “I’d enjoy that.”
I opened the door for her and let my hand rest on the small of her back as I led her through the throng. When we reached the bar, I helped her into a chair. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll do my best to hurry.” The floral notes of her perfume tickled my nostrils while I spoke close to her ear. The natural scent of her combined with the fragrance made drawing back nearly impossible. I swallowed hard as my gaze met hers once more. She nodded, and I forced myself to walk away—to stride to where my aunt sat like a queen with her subjects crowded around her. Collins now stood to her right and leaned down to whisper in her ear as I approached.
“Nephew! It’s about time you showed up!”
Liz
My heart beat like it was running a race as Will walked away. At some point, he disappeared behind the other guests, and I relaxed, rubbing a palm over my stomach. It was tumbling as if I had a team of gymnasts in there. Had it been my imagination, or had Will just begun to lean in when that Collins guy had interrupted? A part of me had wanted me to shove that weaselly little man from the balcony then invite Will to continue what it seemed like he was going to do. I’d never been much on kissing a virtual stranger, much less telling them about my parents, so what was it about Will that had me throwing caution to the wind? I didn’t even know his last name!
Marianne appeared in front of me and crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, Lizzy, spill! What were you doing with William Darcy?”
“William Darcy?” The name was familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.
“Yes, William Darcy, the CEO and owner of Pemberley Books?”
I was mid-sip of Balvenie when Marianne delivered that nugget. Scotch burned at my nostrils as I almost shot it out of my nose. I coughed. “Pemberley Books!” I stage-whispered. What was it about tonight that was making me behave like my mother?
Marianne sat in the chair beside me. “You didn’t know?”
“No, he bumped into me outside the ladies’—literally bumped, mind you. The strap on my heel broke, so he bought me a drink to make up for it. He simply introduced himself as ‘Will.’ I wonder if he knew who I was, and that’s why he insisted upon not using last names.”
“Maybe.” Marianne frowned and crossed her legs. “But I’ve never known him to go by Will. Everyone—and I mean everyone—calls him William. His actual name is Fitzwilliam for his mother’s family, so it’s already shortened. It’s also strange for him to dissemble the way he did with you. My family has known his for years, and I’ve known William to insult people with his honesty rather than lie outright. His bluntness has never bothered me, but most people speak of him like he’s an old curmudgeonly man in a young body.”
“A young, hot body,” I said low. The last thing I needed was for him to return and overhear what I’d said.
“Tell me about it. He dated a good bit when he was younger, but after a particularly bad break-up with the sister of one of his friends, he’s never seen with women. I’ve heard a rumor he doesn’t date at all. Makes him a bit perfect for you, though, doesn’t it?”
“When do I have time to date?” I’d barely had time to do much but sleep since Zio died.
“You need to fix that. Your uncle wouldn’t want you eating, breathing, and sleeping Novel Books.”
“I know. When I was living in London, I dated Denny, but he had no intention of leaving England, and I was returning to New York. It didn’t make sense to stay together. Neither of us would ever consider moving to be with the other. We were more friends with benefits than lovers. I’ve dated since, of course, but nothing that ever stuck. No one lit a fire under my skin; you know?”
“Yeah, I do.”
The crowd parted for a moment, and my entire body jolted at the sight of Will striding back in my direction. My insides warmed at the sight of him.
“What am I going to do? He obviously didn’t want me to know who he is.” I turned to Marianne who shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
When I turned, Will was only about five yards away but had been approached by a man with blond hair and a wide grin.
“Charles, you didn’t mention you were coming.” They were close enough that if I concentrated, I could hear every word.
“My fiancée found my tickets on my dresser and was adamant we come. She’d heard about the gala but had never been able to come.”
My stomach clenched when a tall blonde I recognized easily slithered up and looped her arm through Charles’s. Since when was Jane engaged? Not that I talked to Jane or my parents, especially after the lawsuit trying to steal part of Zio’s bookstore—and the bakery as well for that matter—but Mary, who I still spoke to, hadn’t even mentioned it.
“Isn’t that—?” asked Marianne.
“Yes.” I took a sip of my Scotch.
“What were you doing with my sister?” Jane’s voice carried well through the ballroom. Even though her back was to me, she could’ve been standing beside me the voice was so clear.
“Your sister?” asked Will.
“Yes, the owner of Novel Books; the bookstore you wanted to take over.”
As I lowered my glass, my eyes met Will’s over the rim.
“I had no idea who she was. She introduced herself as Liz.”
“Liz? What a joke. No one calls her that. The only nickname she’s ever had was Betta, and only our uncle called her that.”
Will glanced at Charles, who only looked back and forth between Jane and Will as though it were a show, and he had a front row seat. “It doesn’t matter. I was only being friendly after almost knocking her over when I came out of the men’s room. It’s not like I’d ever consider dating her. She’s not my type—not my type at all. It’s not like she’s beautiful—she’s tolerable I suppose.” His eyes met hers for a moment before he averted his gaze to the floor then back to Jane.
“As my friend Char would say, ‘What a wanker,’” I said to Marianne. I downed the last of the Scotch Will had bought—no, that William Darcy had bought—and stood. “Maybe it’s time to go home.”
“You’re not leaving because of what William said, are you?” Marianne took my hand as I turned to face the bar. “In my experience, he’s reserved, but never outright rude, so I can’t explain what just happened.”
“Maybe he’s just full of himself and thinks he’s so important he can’t be bothered with someone who only has one bookstore. Oh, and who he supposes is tolerable.”
Marianne squeezed my hand. “One huge bookstore and a successful bakery. Seriously, Lizzy, I keep hoping you’ll open another site of the Buttercream Beanery, preferably somewhere near my office. Do you know how often I crave one of those sinful chocolate turtle cupcakes? They’re so moist. I don’t know how you do it. My assistant is Celiac, and she raves over your gluten-free cakes and pastries. Thankfully, she lives on the Upper West Side, so she brings them into work on occasion.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how I’d ever manage two locations. Char would need to run one, and how am I supposed to make it without her?”
“Hon, you’d have her train a new Char before she moved to the new shop.”
My chin dipped as I adopted as serious an expression as I could. “No one could replace Char.”
Marianne glanced over her shoulder and sighed. “William’s still talking to your sister and Charles Bingley. He hasn’t moved.”
“Will can do whatever he wants, Marianne. I’m not going to waste my time on him. He’s not worth it.”
“That’s the attitude,” said Marianne.
“Now, if you want a cupcake, let’s go to the shop. We’ll have a cupcake and some amaretto and catch up. Zio and I would always do that, and I was kind of not looking forward to going home to an empty house and carrying on the tradition alone.”
Marianne’s face brightened. “You don’t need to ask me twice. Just let me tell my father I’m leaving. I don’t want to disappear on him.”
I followed my friend around the edge of the ballroom while I trained my eyes everywhere but in the direction of William Darcy, Jane, and whoever that Charles guy was. What did I have to gain by letting William Darcy know that his words stung? How my insides flinched when he dismissed me like I’d been an obligation, a duty, that he’d discharged.
No, I was going to go home, eat a cupcake, drink some amaretto with Marianne, and cuddle my cat, the only dependable male in my life. I didn’t need William Darcy. I didn’t need any man to validate my success or validate my worth. William Darcy could kiss my ass!
Okay, here’s the cover! Don’t forget to tell me what you think!
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