The only good thing about leaving the club early was that the next day I didn’t have a hangover. Unfortunately, neither did Lydia, so the experience taught her very little. Jane, on the other hand, was sick as a dog.

Charles had texted me during the night that she was going to sleep at his apartment. Jane didn’t want me to worry about her, so she was having him text me. She was sick, and he didn’t want to bother Lydia or me. He was going to make sure she was taken care of.

I had texted him back that I was happy to come up and get her, but he told me she was already settled and finally asleep. I wasn’t about to interrupt their time together, even if Jane was sleeping through it.

I loved that he was so protective of her. They were a cute couple, and I knew he made Jane happy. The little bit of new love in the world made me smile. It was nice to know that there were still some good men out there, and even better to know that my best friend had found one of them.

I decided to go for a run through Central Park since it was my day off of work. Granted, it was much more of a “walk,” but with the sunshine and crisp fall air, I didn’t care. It felt good to be outside in the late autumn sunshine before winter arrived.

Besides, I needed something to do to keep my mind off of Mr. Darcy and our dance. All night, he was the only thing I dreamed about. And of course, we didn’t stick to just dancing. I woke up in a sweat, desire seeping out of every pore with absolutely nothing to quench the fire inside of me.

Damn that man.

So, now I was out walking trying to clear my head and figure out what it all meant. Did he no longer hate me? Was this just a way to get that shag? Where in the world did he learn to dance like that? Would it be weird to ask Charles to take us to the club again? How could I still smell his cologne in my dreams?

“Lizzie!” Lydia yelled, breaking into my thoughts. She waved from the edge of the park, and I made my way over to her.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” I said as I came to the sidewalk where she stood waiting for me.

“No, I had things to do,” she replied. “I’m so glad I found you. I have amazing news!”

“You were cast as the lead in a blockbuster movie?” I asked with a smile.

“As good as! I’d like you to meet my new agent,” Lydia announced. She turned to a handsome man standing beside her. “Elizabeth, I’d like you to meet George Wickham. He’s got contacts all over New York and LA.”

“Is that so?” I looked the man over, much more skeptical than my sister.

He was definitely attractive. He had Hollywood good looks with a strong jaw and broad shoulders. Soft blonde hair blew in the breeze, and his blue eyes sparkled in the sun. He wore a bright red jacket and stood with confidence.

“Please, call me Wickham. Everyone does,” he said, holding out his hand. I didn’t take it.

“And how much are your services costing my sister?” I asked, crossing my arms. I smiled, but it wasn’t friendly.

“Not a dime,” he assured me. “I don’t make money unless she makes money. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”

He handed me a business card with his name on it. He’d passed my first test.

“Feel free to check me out. I’m part of the Actor’s Union. I’m the real deal,” he explained. He gave me a megawatt smile. “I’m not a big name in the industry yet, but I have contacts that get roles. I’m here to get your sister parts, not take her money.”

“The Actor’s Union, huh?” I looked the card over in my hands. This felt a little less scammy than the last few “talent agents” Lydia had found. All the actor scams asked for money up front, and not a single one of them was affiliated with the Actor’s Union. Lydia might have actually found a real agent.

“You’re good to be concerned for your sister,” he told me, brushing the blonde hair out of his face from the wind. “This industry is rough. There’s a lot of scams and people who pray on dreams of getting into acting.”

“We’ve met quite a few,” I replied. I wasn’t getting the same vibe from him that I usually did from her agents. I liked him and his friendly manner the more we spoke. “Many of the people we’ve talked to just want to take Lydia’s money. They disappear after empty promises of breakout roles and ad campaigns.”

“I am not one of those people,” Wickham assured me. “We’re going to start small. I already have a contract that will be perfect for Lydia.”

“What is it?” I asked. I couldn’t help but be skeptical.

“It’s how we met, actually,” Lydia replied, tired of no longer being in the conversation. “He found me at the gym. He says I have a perfect face for print.”

She grinned and did her best model face. I had to be honest, she was beautiful, but I wasn’t about to get my hopes up. At least her ridiculously expensive gym membership might have paid off. She went to the most expensive gym in town, hoping for exactly this outcome.

“I was looking for attractive, fit young women for this campaign when I saw your sister on the treadmill,” Wickham explained. “She’s perfect for their image. I’ve already sent in her head-shots, and I’m hearing good things.”

“I’m going to be famous, Lizzie!” Lydia jumped up and down with delight.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Wickham cautioned putting a calming hand on her shoulder. “We still have to get approved. But, it is a step in the right direction.”

Lydia grinned at me. “I’m gonna be famous!” At least she didn’t jump up and down this time.

I shook my head and smiled. This was the first time I actually had faith that Lydia had a shot. Wickham was a good fit. He wasn’t filling her up with false dreams and wasn’t just taking her money.

“And what’s your cut if she gets this job?” I asked.

“The traditional ten percent,” he replied. He gave me another disarming smile. “You’re skeptical, and I like it. Seriously, check me out. I’m the real deal. I’d prefer it if we were working together to get your sister where she wants to go.”

“I will,” I said, pocketing his card. So far, I hadn’t gotten any of the skeezy vibes I usually did off of Lydia’s “agents.” He hadn’t asked for money, and he hadn’t promised something he couldn’t deliver. Plus, there was just something about him that was charming. He was certainly getting my mind off of Mr. Darcy, at least.

“Until then, can I interest you lovely ladies in a cup of coffee?” Wickham asked. He pointed to the opposite side road to the park, near the buildings. “There’s a great coffee truck that stops just a couple of blocks over.”

“I never say no to coffee,” I replied. He just earned another point in my book.

“It’s the best coffee this side of the Atlantic,” he promised.

“Do you mean Lou’s Coffee?” Lydia asked. The three of us walked in step along the sidewalk. Luckily, it was a quiet day in the park, so we were able to do so.

“Yes,” Wickham said with a smile. “Do you know it?”

“Know it?” Lydia grinned. “I’m good friends with the owner.”

“You seem to be good friends with all sorts of important people,” Wickham told her. Lydia beamed. He obviously knew how to get on her good side.

“When you have talent, good looks, and an inheritance coming, it’s easy,” she replied with a laugh.

“An inheritance?” I asked her. She ignored me and hurriedly crossed the street, pulling Wickham along with her. I had to jog to keep up.

“So, keep going about the funny casting experience you were telling me about,” Lydia said to Wickham, ignoring me and changing the subject of her supposed inheritance. She obviously didn’t want Wickham to know she didn’t have any money coming her way.

I sighed. I didn’t want to confront her about this right now. I was having a nice time, and I didn’t want to ruin our walk by pointing out my sister’s insane issues. I would just have to talk to her when we got home. As usual.

“Well, it was for a pudding commercial,” Wickham replied. “And they needed people to look like they were experiencing the best pudding of their entire lives.”

“I could do that,” Lydia assured him.

“It came time for my client to show what she could do. The poor actress thought the casting director said ‘old face’ instead of ‘O face’ and I’m sure you can imagine what her audition looked like,” Wickham said.

He squinted his eyes like he had poor vision, covered his teeth with his lips, and did the best impersonation of a blind, toothless old person I had ever seen. It was the exact opposite of what an “o-face” should have looked like.

I couldn’t help but burst out into laughter.

“What did the casting director do?” I asked, covering my mouth as I tried to get control of myself. It didn’t help that Wickham kept making the face as we walked.

“Well, he said it was the most original ‘O-face’ he’d ever seen and hired her on the spot,” Wickham replied, putting his charming smile back on. “I still can’t believe she got the job.”

“And you say your clients are all that famous,” I teased him. “Now, I know that one of those pudding girls is one of yours.”

He chuckled. “You give me too much credit. She did all the hard work. All I did was set up the audition and make sure the contracts were in order. The real work is finding talent like Lydia.”

Lydia fluffed her hair and grinned.

“Do you think they’re going to use the ‘old face’ look in the commercials?” I asked. “It would certainly make it more memorable.”

“I think it would sell more pudding, so yes,” Wickham replied, keeping a straight face. Then he made sure I was looking at him, and he made the “old face” again. I burst out laughing.

“Wickham, you’re hilarious,” I announced, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Elizabeth.”

I looked up to see Mr. Darcy standing directly in front of me. He was dressed in a smart dark suit and acting for all the world like he owned the entire sidewalk. His blue eyes were only on me. My hand fell from Wickham, and my lungs forgot how to breathe for a moment as I had a vivid recall of our dance.

“Oh, hello,” I stammered. My brain no longer seemed to know how to find words. “What are you doing here?”

“I had a meeting,” he replied, his accent thick this morning. He motioned to one of the skyscrapers behind him. “And you?”

“I went for a run and ran into my sister and her new agent,” I explained. I motioned toward Wickham. “Mr. Darcy, I’d like you to meet George Wickham.”

Mr. Darcy’s jaw tightened, and he barely made a nod of acknowledgment. The air temperature dropped ten degrees as the two men made eye contact.

I looked over at Wickham to see if the dislike was mutual, and found him looking sour. His full mouth was pinched and tight. There was some serious dislike and some sort of silent battle going on between the two of them that I didn’t understand.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to,” Mr. Darcy announced. He turned smartly on his heel and walked straight back into the skyscraper behind him. I stared after him, wondering what the heck had just happened.

“Oh, he’s always like that,” Lydia assured Wickham. “Lizzie actually hit him the first time she met him.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Wickham said to me, a smile returning to his face as Mr. Darcy disappeared into the building. “There are many times I wish I would have hit him.”

“I see the coffee truck,” Lydia announced. “I’ll order and get us a discount.”

“Thank you, Lydia,” Wickham said, beaming a handsome smile on her. “I’ll take a number three, please.”

Lydia preened in his attention. “No problem. I’ll get you your usual, Liz.” With one last grin for Wickham, she bounced off to order from the coffee truck.

“So, how do you and Mr. Darcy know one another?” I asked, watching my sister walk up and order.

“Unfortunately,” Wickham replied. He offered me a sad smile. “We were step-siblings.”

“Really?” I was shocked that these two men who clearly hated one another could be as close as siblings.

“My mother married his father when we were boys,” he explained. “We grew up together.”

“How come you don’t have an accent?” I asked, trying not to sound too suspicious.

“My mother was American, and I spent most of my teenage years in America,” he replied, luckily not sounding insulted at all. “I never really picked it up, but I do an amazing accent when drunk.”

“I see,” I said, nodding my head. “I’m guessing that you two aren’t close then?”

“Oh, you noticed that?” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “When William’s father died, I was left a portion of the business in his will. But, William didn’t like that, so he got his lawyers involved to call the changes invalid, and I never got any of it.”

“Oh my gosh.” I was shocked. “He did that?”

Wickham nodded slowly. “He did indeed.”

I stood there, trying to take in this new information. Wickham should have been a billionaire board member of Oceanic Airlines, not a struggling talent agent. I had a hard time believing that Mr. Darcy could be so cruel, and yet... he was kind of a jerk.

“It was a long time ago,” Wickham continued. “And I’ve made my peace with it. Luckily, even without the money, I still had friends in famous places. That’s how I was able to become an agent.”

“You’ve made lemonade out of lemons for sure,” I told him. “I’m surprised you didn’t walk right over and slug him.”

Wickham shrugged. “The temptation was there, but it wouldn’t accomplish anything.” He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled at me with sweet eyes. “But, I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“If you say so,” I told him. “Still, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Wickham replied. “This wasn’t my dream job, but I’m finding myself very good at. I’m discovering that I’m where I’m supposed to be. William will get his karma someday. I know it.”

“I certainly hope so,” I said. I was impressed by how well Wickham was handling this. If anything, it made me glad that he’d found Lydia. He would be good for her. If he could keep his temper around Mr. Darcy, he was already doing better than me.

“Here’s your coffee,” Lydia announced, holding out the cups. “Lou says it’s on the house in celebration of me getting an agent.”

“Remind me to thank Lou,” Wickham replied, gratefully taking his coffee.

I took a nice big sip of mine. Sweet vanilla with just a dash of cinnamon. Despite her flaws, Lydia knew my coffee preferences. She could be a good sister when she wanted to be.

“Now, tell Lizzie more about how you’re going to make me famous,” Lydia said, taking Wickham’s arm as we began walking away from Mr. Darcy’s building.

“I have big plans for you, Lydia,” Wickham replied. “Big plans.”