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Honestly!Judy-Lynne
Posted on Monday, 26 May 2003
Lizzy's day wasn't going well at all. It began only forty-five minutes into the morning when her younger sister Lydia appeared on her doorstep unexpectedly. After letting her into the apartment and allowing her to raid the refrigerator, Lizzy was able to coax an explanation from the high school senior. She had stormed out of her parents' home in Great Neck and driven into the city after another one of their constant lectures about improving her grades and getting into college.
"You should have heard them, Lizzy! Mom was like a shrew! Screaming at the top of her lungs; Lizzy did this! Lizzy did that! Lizzy got a full scholarship to college--."
"Lizzy graduated college, moved to the city and got a job. And if she wants to keep her job she's got to get up on time tomorrow morning," Lizzy said dully. She loved her sister but she was exhausted. After exacting a promise from Lydia to call her parents Lizzy went off to bed. She was roused less than five minutes later, however, when Lydia called her to the phone. Lizzy spent the next hour mediating a peace deal between her parents and her sullen sibling.
So it was not at all surprising that Lizzy overslept. She emerged from her bedroom and found all the lights and the television still on. When she brewed a pot of coffee she discovered that Lydia had drunk a half-quart of milk. Lizzy didn't bother to confront the teen, who was sprawled face down on the couch. She simply shook her head and went to take a shower. She emerged from the bathroom to the sound of her sister's shrill voice.
"Lizzy!"
"What Lyd?"
"Brad is on the phone!"
Lizzy grit her teeth. Brad: handsome, persistent, annoying; she'd gone out with him once and had been saying no to a second date for weeks.
"Take a message."
"He said he's desperate to hear the sound of your voice."
"Oh, he's desperate, all right." Lizzy took the phone from her sister. "Hello, Brad, I'm late for work. Goodbye." She hung up the phone and strode into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Lydia was already seated in the kitchen liberally pouring milk over a large bowl of cereal. "Ah!" Lizzy grabbed the container from her sister. "Don't you dare squander another drop of milk on that. You have more than enough milk, young lady."
"But I like a lot of milk on my cereal!" Lydia cried as she reached for the container.
"And I'd like to have some for my coffee, if you please, or have you forgotten that this is my apartment and this is my milk you're drinking?"
"My, my, aren't we crabby this morning! Maybe you should call Brad back and arrange a little tension relief."
Lizzy looked up in shock at her sister's words, but when she saw what was in her hand she let out a strangled cry.
"Where did you get that?"
"This?" Lydia asked as she started to drop it on the table. "I found it on the desk by the telephone."
"Lydia, you march right back out to the living room and put it back where you found it. I have to mail that today and I don't want you spilling anything on it." Lydia rose and pushed herself away from the table.
"Would you take a chill pill before you pop something? I didn't get anything on it." She took the manuscript she'd been reading and put it back on the desk. "It's pretty good," she said when she returned. "I'm thinking about becoming a writer, too, you know. I have a few stories I want to show to publishers while I'm in the city."
"Lyd, you can't just go to a publisher and show him or her your manuscript," Lizzy said exasperatedly. "Getting yourself published takes time--and talent." Neither of which you possess in abundance, Lizzy thought to herself.
"Well, how do I get published?"
"It's a complicated process, Lyd. I don't have time to go into it now. I have to get to work."
"But Lizzy!"
"We can talk about this another time. Now I have to get my stuff together and so do you. You've got a train to catch."
Lizzy put her coffee cup into the sink as she pulled a breakfast bar out of a box on the counter and shoved it into her jacket pocket. She went into the living room and picked up the manuscript, noticing that a bottle of her expensive nail polish was lying open on the desk.
"Lydia," she sighed as she paused to close it. "Where did you put that story? I have to mail it out this morning."
"It's right there under your nose. If you'd stop raving like a madwoman you'd see it."
Lizzy held her breath and picked up the bottle of nail polish. Sure enough, her manuscript lay underneath. "Where are you sending it?"
"It's going to be published in a magazine."
"Really? Which one?"
"It's a small literary publication. I doubt you've heard of it."
"Well, maybe I should send them my story, too."
"No, Lydia. They don't take unsolicited stories."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that they only accept stories from people they've asked for manuscripts from. You have to submit a portfolio of your work and be juried in." Lydia made a face and dismissed the idea as too complicated.
"I want my stuff in a magazine people actually read, anyway, like The New Yorker."
"Suit yourself," Lizzy said as she slid her manuscript into a manila envelope. "Now where did I put my keys?" She dropped the envelope on the desk and returned to the bedroom. As soon as she was out of sight, Lydia opened her backpack and pulled out a folder. She selected a document and after slipping Lizzy's story from the envelope, replaced it with her own. She barely had time to secret the purloined story in her folder before Lizzy returned.
"Are you ready to go, Lyd?"
"Yes, I've got all my stuff." Lizzy grabbed her bag and picked up the envelope. "Let's go." She sealed the envelope on her way to the elevator and dropped it into the mailbox on the way to the train station.
"Morning Charles." William Darcy extended his hand to greet his new boss.
"Morning Darce. "How's the first day on the job so far?"
"Well, I've been here only seventeen minutes, but so far, other than the fact that I have only two paperclips to my name, I'm fairly content."
"I think we can scare up a few more for you. I'm really glad to have you aboard, Will."
"I'm glad to be here. I'm really looking forward to this. As much as I love traveling the globe and writing about exotic places, I've grown weary of the road. This job gives me the opportunity to see if I can stand being in one place for any length of time."
"You promised me a year minimum, even if I have to shackle you to that desk, William," Charles said. "Here, this is your first issue." He placed a thick folder on the desk. "Have fun."
"Wait; that's it? 'Have fun'? Aren't there any marching orders, special requests...advice?" William asked as he took the file and began to flip through its contents.
"Oh, yes! As a matter of fact, there is. Take a look at the piece written by Lizzy Bennet. She's done a few pieces for us before and is really showing signs of a promising future as a writer. If this issue's piece is as good as her last, you'll want to highlight it in the table of contents. Her last story had a remarkable response."
"Yes, mother," Lizzy said patiently. "Yes...yes...I know...yes." She sighed and began another series of assents, wondering why she was being subjected to a play by play of the discussion she'd taken part in the previous week. Her friend Olivia peeked into her office and Lizzy brightened. "Mother I've got to go. I'm late for a meeting. Bye!" She slammed down the receiver without a twinge of remorse.
"What meeting?" Olivia asked. Lizzy shrugged.
"Hey it was either that or listen to another twenty minutes of why Lydia is the bane of my mother's existence," Lizzy said. "So what's up?"
"I read your latest story last night and I have to tell you, Lizzy, it's the best thing you've ever written," Olivia said as she sat down.
"You say that every week!"
"And I mean it every week! If you continue to improve at this pace you'll have Shakespeare rolling in his grave."
"Thanks," Lizzy laughed. "I just hope Charles thinks so."
"Who's Charles?"
"He's the editor of the magazine that's been publishing my stuff. Oh, no--actually, he said something last time we spoke about getting someone to take over that job while he started a new magazine."
"Well, whoever the new editor is, if he isn't completely floored by this he's an idiot!"
"Morning, Darce."
"Charles, come in! I was just finishing my comments on that new batch of stories you passed on to me the other day."
"Oh?" Charles said as he slid into a chair. "How is your first issue as editor in chief setting up?"
"Well, it looks pretty good, although I think we'll have to find something to replace that ghastly piece sent in by--." William paused and shuffled through the stack of papers before him. "This thing by Lizzy Bennet. I thought you told me that she was one of your best contributors."
"She was," Charles said with a frown as he reached for the story in question. "She's one of our best and brightest newcomers. In fact, I've been talking to a friend of mine about a book of her short stories. Oh my." Charles didn't bother to read the story itself, focusing instead on the comments William had written liberally on the manuscript.
"I must say I was rather disappointed. I dug out and read some of her other stuff and it was quite good." Charles glanced up at William and then back to the story. He shook his head.
"This is not like Lizzy at all! She was supposed to be submitting a sequel to her last story. This isn't even set in New York!" Charles rose and headed for the door. "I'm going to give her a call."
"You do that," William said.
Charles returned to his office and dialed Lizzy's number. Lizzy answered the phone with her eyes glued to her computer monitor.
"Yes," she said absently as she cradled the phone on her shoulder and continued to type.
"Hello Lizzy, this is Charles Bingley."
"Charles! How are you?"
"I'm fine. Lizzy about your story--."
"Did you love it?"
"Uh ... no. Well, actually, that's not exactly true. I haven't read it."
"Well, you should. I don't mind saying that I think it's the best thing I've ever written. In fact, I'm so crazy about it I'm working on a third part right now. Charles, I think this may be the one to become my first novel."
"Lizzy..." Charles cleared his throat.
"What's the matter?" Lizzy felt a knot form in the pit of her stomach and she stopped typing.
"I don't think we can publish this."
"Why not?" Lizzy demanded.
"I told you that I was bringing someone else in to take over as editor in chief."
"Yes. What's that got to--?"
"He panned the story, Lizzy."
"He what?"
"I'm looking at his comments and they are very unflattering."
"Unflattering? Is he insane?" Lizzy took a deep breath and tried to rein in her anger. "Can you fax me a copy of the comments? I'd like to see them."
"I'll mail back the story. Perhaps you can do a rewrite."
"Please fax it," Lizzy repeated in a tight voice. "I'd like to read them now."
"All right. I'll have Louisa fax them to you. I'm sorry, Lizzy."
"Thank you, but you have nothing to apologize for. If your editor rejected my story he's the one who should answer for it."
"Well, you can give Will a call after you've seen the comments. Maybe he can clarify what he's looking for and straighten out--well, you know."
"Yes," Lizzy said, although she was as perplexed as Charles. "Thanks for calling."
Lizzy hung up the phone and went down the hall to the mailroom, where the fax was just beginning to come through. She picked up the first page of the story and read the first comment.
If you're going to write a story set in the 1950's, take the time to do a bit of research. There was no such thing as a "mini-skirt" until the 1960's.
"What?" Lizzy frowned.
She snatched another page from the machine, then another and another. By the time she had all seventeen pages of the story she was boiling mad. She marched back to her office and dialed Charles's number.
"Hello, Louisa. This is Lizzy Bennet. May I speak to Charles please?"
"I'm afraid he just went into a meeting."
"Well, then can you connect me with," Lizzy paused and looked at the manuscript for the name. "William Darcy?"
"Hold on and I'll transfer you."
"Thank you," Lizzy said as she ordered her thoughts.
"William Darcy." Lizzy was momentarily taken aback by the deep, mellifluous voice, but she quickly recovered.
"Mr. Darcy, this is Lizzy Bennet. I just received your comments on my most recent submission."
"Oh. Charles said he'd call you."
"Well, he faxed me the comments," Lizzy said, cutting him off. "May we meet, Mr. Darcy?"
"I don't see what we have to talk about, Ms. Bennet. My comments are quite clear. I take it you've read them."
"Yes, Mr. Darcy. But you haven't read my story. Will you be in this afternoon?"
"Yes, but--what do you mean I haven't--?" The call was cut off before he could finish his sentence. Lizzy turned to her computer and printed out a file. Then she picked up her bag and the fax. She shoved them both into an envelope on her way out the door.
William was highly intrigued by the beautiful, infuriated woman who stormed into his office. He was in the hall speaking to a coworker when the receptionist showed her where he could be found. William watched with interest and no small amount of amusement as Lizzy strode across the floor and into his office.
"Excuse me," he said dryly to his companion, "I believe I have a visitor." William dumped his half-empty coffee cup and went to his office. He paused in the doorway to admire the trim, diminutive figure of the woman who was standing in front of his desk.
"Ms. Bennet, I presume."
"You presume...correctly," Lizzy said turning to confront him. She froze momentarily when her eyes met William's. He extended a hand and sensed her nervousness as she took it. She cleared her throat and sat down at his invitation. William closed the door and practically had to force himself not to rub his hands in anticipation.
"What can I do for you?" he asked as he took his seat. He unabashedly studied the perfection to be found in Lizzy's features.
"I'd like for you to read my story and give it a fair appraisal."
"I've already done that, Ms. Bennet," William said, leaning forward to get a better look at her sparkling eyes.
"You've done no such thing! You--."
"I should think that as a published author you'd be used to constructive criticism, Ms. Bennet."
"I am quite able to accept constructive criticism, Mr. Darcy, but not when--."
"If you are then I don't see why you're so angry with me. After all, you're the one who submitted such a weak, contrived, dare I say banal story with so many typographical errors I had to wonder if your computer had spell checking software."
"And I have to wonder how you became an editor if you're so deficient in your skills as to not be able to--."
"I beg your pardon, Ms. Bennet, but calling my skills to account is uncalled for."
"On the contrary," Lizzy said, raising her voice a bit and sitting forward, "I think that it's exactly what's called for. Look," she said as she threw the fax on the desk. William reluctantly tore his eyes from her and glanced down.
"I've already read it, Ms. Bennet. Please don't subject me to that horror again."
"Are you always so diplomatic?" she said archly. "You'd probably be a better editor if you learned some civility as well as how to read."
"Look, Ms. Bennet--."
"No, you look, Mr. Darcy." Lizzy drew her manuscript out of her bag and tossed it on the desk.
"What is this?"
"That is my story. The one you thought so little of was written by someone else."
William opened his mouth and then closed it again. He picked up Lizzy's story and read the title before he looked up questioningly.
"See it yet?"
"What am I looking for?"
Lizzy snorted derisively.
"How did you get this job? Are some old drinking buddy of Charles's?"
"Ms. Bennet I have no time for games. If there's a point to be made, please make it."
Lizzy sighed and held up the stories. William read the title and author's name on the first and then looked at the other. His cheeks grew red as he saw the second author's name.
"I--." William's mouth snapped shut as he grabbed both manuscripts and sat back, staring at them dumbly. Lizzy also sat back with a smug smile pasted across her face. "But it--."
"It arrived in an envelope with my name on it? I think I can explain that," Lizzy said, rising to her feet, "but I won't. Good day, Mr. Darcy. I look forward to your editorial comments on my story." With that, Lizzy walked out of the room. William dropped the papers and ran after her.
"Ms. Bennet! Ms. Bennet, please. Allow me to apologize!" Lizzy turned and looked up at him.
"You know, there's a part of me that wants to hear it, but the rest of me just wants to enjoy your embarrassment. I know I'll probably regret it later, but what the hell?" she said insouciantly as she stepped into the elevator. "You made me feel like crap this morning; I'm just returning the favor." With that, the doors slid shut and William was left standing there, stunned.
"Will?" William spun around at Charles's call. "Is something wrong?"
William sighed and gestured with his head for him to follow. He led the way back to his office and pushed the two manuscripts across the desk.
"I'm an idiot." Charles picked up the pair of documents and laughed.
"I didn't see it before, either," he admitted.
"But you aren't the one being paid to edit your magazine!" William ran a hand over his face. "She was very angry."
"I can imagine," Charles said as he skimmed Lydia's story. "Mini-skirts and leggings? In 1956? Oh, Lydia."
"You know Lydia Bennet?"
"I know all the Bennets," Charles replied. "I married one of them."
"Oh." Charles tossed Lydia's story onto the desk and picked up Lizzy's.
"Now this will be a pleasure to edit," he said as he sat back and began to read.
"Shouldn't I be reading it, in that case?" William asked.
"In a bit; I'm dying to see what she's done this time." Charles rose and, story in hand, left the office.
"Hey!" Charles paused and looked back.
"Have you got a number for Lizzy Bennet?" Charles smiled.
"Call Louisa; she'll give it to you."
"Lizzy, where have you been?" Olivia asked as she met her friend in the hall.
"Oh, we had a meeting on the new computer system they're installing next month. I was surprised that you weren't there."
"Well, if anyone else was missing, I can tell you where they were." Lizzy stopped and looked at Olivia quizzically. Olivia crooked her finger and led Lizzy around the corner. Her office door was open and two of her coworkers were standing outside the door. Lizzy could make out a pair of long legs just inside the office, but the door obscured his upper torso.
"Who's that?"
"That's what they want to know," Olivia said. "For the record, so do I." Lizzy frowned and slowly approached the door. When she reached it, she cleared her throat and William turned to look at her. He was the last person she expected to see and it clearly showed in her face as he leapt to his feet to greet her.
William was once again struck by her beauty. He stared at her face as a small smile crept over his lips. Lizzy blushed under his scrutiny, which annoyed her. She averted her eyes from his and he quickly collected himself.
"Ms. Bennet...I apologize for appearing unannounced but I was told you'd be in this morning."
"Mr. Darcy." That was all she could manage, given the pace at which her heart was beating. She had no idea why her pulse had accelerated, but she hoped she didn't faint before he'd said his piece and left.
"May I have a few minutes of your time?" Lizzy opened her mouth and--not trusting her voice--gestured for him to sit. She turned to close the door and was confronted by the faces of her coworkers silently urging her to leave it open. She sighed and let closed it firmly. William didn't sit till Lizzy walked around her desk and sat down. His manners were so deferential she half-expected him to hold her chair.
"How may I help you Mr. Darcy?"
"I, uh...I came to offer an apology for my behavior yesterday. I was expecting to read a story by Lizzy Bennet and that's what I saw. After Charles had spoken so highly of your abilities you could imagine my disappointment when I--."
"When you--?" Lizzy prompted.
"Well, I probably shouldn't say. I understand that Lydia Bennet is your sister." Lizzy relaxed a bit and sighed.
"You'll probably find, Mr. Darcy, that my opinion of my sister's writing skills is very much in line with your own. Of course, I tend to be more diplomatic."
"Perhaps you should be the editor and I should go back to writing," he suggested lightly.
"Oh, are you a writer, Mr. Darcy?"
William tried not to take offense at her question. There were millions of people who'd never heard of him or his work. Why should it bother him if she was among them?
"Yes, I am," he said tightly.
"Where have you published?" she asked with a small smile, enjoying the opportunity to put him on the spot.
"Well, I've had about forty articles in Outside magazine, three in National Geographic, and I have five books to my credit."
Lizzy blanched. All of the sudden the name William Darcy became very familiar and she winced involuntarily. William Darcy. Will Darcy. Winner of three prominent book awards, Will Darcy. That Will Darcy. Oh.
"Why are you editing a small literary journal?" she asked more boldly than she felt.
"I wanted to stop traveling for a while. I could probably live off my royalties but I wanted something to do." William looked around the room. "What do you do here?"
"I am the assistant to the director."
"Does he know that he's got a talented writer in his midst?" William said with a sincere smile. Lizzy's pulse accelerated again.
"You've changed your tune," Lizzy said smugly.
"Yes," William replied as he opened his briefcase. "I did as you, uh, 'requested' and read your story. I thought it was brilliant."
"So did I," Lizzy said bluntly. "So you could understand my shock when--."
"Yes," William said awkwardly as he averted his eyes. "Have I apologized for that yet?"
"Mmm," Lizzy said, enjoying his discomfort. "Actually you said you wanted to offer an apology. I haven't received it yet." William looked up and saw a mischievous gleam in her eye.
"Have dinner with me tonight and I'll give you an apology that will--."
"Sorry, but that's impossible." William was crestfallen. "I'm free tomorrow night." William's smile lit up the room.
"I'll have all the more time to rehearse." Lizzy had forgiven him the moment he first opened his mouth but there was no need to tell him that.
Two days later, Lizzy found herself in a quandary over what to wear. She wanted to make a good impression on him, but she wanted it to be the right one. Her search for the perfect outfit was impeded by the fact that she was being less than completely honest with herself as to exactly what sort of impression she wanted to make.
"I want something sophisticated and stylish, something that says open and accessible, not eager and easy. There's no need for him to know I am eager," Lizzy said, "nor, for that matter, how easy I could be if he just--." The intercom sounded and Lizzy's heart went into overdrive. She had told the doorman that she was expecting a guest and asked him to send him up when he arrived.
"Your guest is here, Ms. Bennet," the doorman informed her. Lizzy swallowed her nervousness and went back to her bedroom, where she slipped on a simple sheath dress and pearls. She grabbed a pair of sling backs and a shawl, eschewing the jacket that matched the dress. She was hopping into the living room with her finger caught on the strap of one shoe when the doorbell rang. Lizzy leaned against the wall, extricated her thumb and went to answer it, belatedly remembering to slip on the second shoe. She took a deep breath and pasting on a smile, she reached for the knob.
"Hi, Lizzy," Lydia said as she strode past her sister into the apartment.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Lizzy demanded as she closed the door.
"Can I stay the night? I'm going out with Angie and her folks tonight but I can't stay with them because they've already got a houseful of guests."
"No, you may not stay here. I've got a date."
"Can't you stay at his place?" Lizzy's mouth fell open.
"We are not sleeping together! And besides, that's not the point. You can't just show up here for the second time in as many weeks and expect me to take you in, especially after that little stunt you pulled." Lizzy advanced on her sibling with venom in her eyes.
"I already told mom and dad I was staying here."
"I don't care what you told them! If they knew the trouble you've caused me they wouldn't have let you come anywhere near this place!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about my story, Lydia. The one you replaced with your own and let me send to Charles."
"Oh, that," Lydia said, brightening. "Did he like it?"
"No and neither did the editor! You had no right to do what you did! You have no idea how humiliating it was to sit there and listen to scathing criticism for a story I didn't write. You caused several people major embarrassment. In fact I am going to dinner with the editor tonight in order to smooth over ruffled feathers on both our parts."
"Since when can't Charles take a joke?" The intercom buzzed again but Lizzy was too absorbed to notice.
"Charles is no longer editing the magazine, Lyddy!"
"What's the big deal? All I did was send them a story."
"I sent them a story, Lyd, a story that they expected to be able to publish. What you substituted was something barely intelligible."
Lizzy jumped when the doorbell rang again. She caught her breath and willed herself to be calm as she walked to the door. She peered though the peephole and saw that it was William. Cursing her ...
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