Darcy in Hollywood

“So she can’t confirm that it was Wickham?”

“No. He’s disappeared, so the police haven’t been able to question him. He hasn’t been home, and his roommates don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, that’s not suspicious at all.”

“I know.” A thought occurred to her. “Hey, do you have any idea where he might be?”

Will considered for a long moment before responding. “Not really. I could give you names and addresses for his mother and a few old acquaintances, but not much more, I’m afraid.”

“Would Ricky know anything?”

“No. He might remember that Wickham was around, but most of our troubles with him happened after Ricky left…er, was thrown out.”

Elizabeth nodded; it had been a long shot.

Darcy rubbed a finger over his lips, an unconscious gesture that Elizabeth found very distracting. “If you’ve been avoiding your entire family, where have you been staying?”

“Recently I’ve been staying at Charlotte’s apartment. She’s, um, absent a lot because she’s dating Bill.”

“Yeah, I saw them at the premiere.” Will shook his head. “Jeez, you go to Asia for a month, and the entire world goes crazy.”

“They seem really happy.” Don’t be bitter, Elizabeth. You wouldn’t want Bill. “Although I find it inexplicable. They were home one night that I was there and…”

“And?” He lifted an eyebrow.

She lowered her voice even though they were alone in the house. “Don’t tell anyone, but they, um, role play.”

It took him a moment to catch on. “Role play? In the bedroom?”

She nodded. “Loudly.”

“Like what? Naughty schoolgirl? French maid?”

Laughter nearly prevented Elizabeth from getting the words out. “Charlotte pretends to be M-Mrs. de Bourgh and g-gives Bill orders.”

William’s laugh could best be described as a guffaw. “I did not need that image in my head.”

“I know, right?”

Their laughter eventually died down, and silence stole over the room. Maybe I should leave after all. What do we have to say to each other?

Will leaned over, elbows on his knees, watching her intently. “How long until you leave L.A.? You’re going to medical school in August? September?”

He doesn’t know. She cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m not going to medical school.”

“Why not?”

She fought the urge to fidget under his gaze. “Lydia had

the accident and we weren’t sure if she would survive, so I missed all the med school application deadlines.”

His eyes were soft. “Damn! Oh, Elizabeth, I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged.

“You can apply for next year, right?”

She shrugged again. “Maybe.”