Darcy in Hollywood

Darcy winced. He hated how everyone with an internet connection knew the intimate details of his life. “It was restored. Just today.”

Lydia clapped her hands together. “Yay for you! Congratulations! I bet you’re so happy.” Darcy flicked his skeptical gaze toward the trashed car, but Lydia didn’t notice.

As Tom stared at the car, Darcy braced himself for overdue paternal anger. It was terrifying to think what would have happened if Elizabeth had been between the Ferrari and the lamppost.

But the producer instead loomed over his injured daughter. “Did you get in the way of Mr. Darcy’s car? He’s a very busy man, you know.”

Standing beside her father, Lydia had her hands on her hips. “That wasn’t very considerate, Lizzy.”

“I wasn’t in his way.” Elizabeth sighed, rubbing her forehead with one hand. “I was on the sidewalk.”

The producer gesticulated wildly at the wreck. “Don’t you see what happened to the car?”

Was this the kind of sympathy she could count on from her family? Darcy had been annoyed and shaken up by the accident, but it hadn’t been Elizabeth’s fault.

“Insurance will cover the car,” Darcy told Tom. “I’m sure it will be as good as new.” Although Raoul might never let me drive it again.

Tom was still berating his daughter, who was now even paler. “He could have been hurt! Do you know what that would have done to our shooting schedule? You should be more careful about which sidewalks you walk on!”

“It’s fine, Tom,” Darcy insisted. “I wasn’t hurt. I’m more worried about Elizabeth. She might need a trip to the emergency room.” Darcy supposed he would have to be the voice of reason if nobody else would.

“That would be a good idea.” Elizabeth’s voice was weaker than it was a few minutes ago.

Tom stared down at his phone screen. “No, no. Lizzy’s not essential to the movie. We’ll be fine without her.”

Darcy blew out an irritated breath. “I’m sure that’s true, but she needs immediate medical attention. I would take her to the emergency room—”

“But you can’t miss the table read,” Tom interrupted. “And I can’t either.”

Elizabeth turned toward her sister. “Lydia?”

The blonde gaped. “I can’t take you! I have two lines in the screenplay!”

Surely the woman who had so forcefully rejected all of Darcy’s excuses would give her sister a piece of her mind, but Elizabeth merely nodded slightly and kneaded her forehead.

“What about Jane?” she asked her father. Jane Bennet was another of Tom’s daughters. A talented indie-film actress, she had one of the movie’s biggest roles.

“She’s not here yet. And we’ll need her for the table read too.”

Elizabeth’s weary nods suggested she was losing feistiness by the minute. Darcy hadn’t known her long but found the trend rather alarming. Did this typically occur with concussions? Why didn’t anyone else notice? “I’m calling for an ambulance.” He pulled out his cell phone.

Bennet held up his hands. “There’s no need for such a fuss.”

Darcy called the studio’s main line. “I disagree.” Two years ago, he had played an EMT in a thriller. Research for the role had included ride-alongs on real ambulance calls. The paramedics had stressed the importance of calling an ambulance if there was any doubt about the severity of someone’s injury. Only a professional could know for sure.

“Worldwide Studios. How can I help you?” a crisp voice on the other end of the line said.

“Yes, I have a young woman here who hit her head and might have a concussion. I’d like you to send an ambulance.” Some of the bigger studios had their own medical teams and ambulances, but Darcy didn’t know if Worldwide was one of them.

“Oh my God! Is this William Darcy?” the woman said breathlessly.

Darcy barely managed not to curse. Why did he have to have such a distinctive voice? Be nice to your fans. Be nice to your fans. “Yes, it is.”

“I feel lightheaded,” the woman said.

“Please don’t faint before you send the ambulance.”

She giggled. “You say the funniest things!”