Page 7 of Stuck

Except that I seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time embroiled in other people’s love lives—his, my sister’s, my cousins’… Never my bloody own. I’d been caught up in Bingley’s when his previous girlfriend tried to bribe him with deepfake sex videos to stop him breaking up with her after she cheated on him. Bingley wasn’t a household name by any stretch, but anyone of his net worth would very quickly become a figure of interest if a scandal arose. I’d had to call in a lot of favours to keep the story on the down-low. A few pictures had leaked on social media anyway, and rumours were rife in our circle for a while, but it hadn’t reached the mainstream press. He’d been seriously cut up over the whole thing, so to see him in another relationship so soon, and at such a critical time for the company, was no small cause for alarm. He needed his head in the game, not between a woman’s legs.

Not that I could blame him, since what I’d seen of the legs that had been hiding under that hideous dress had been enough to… well, make me notice. It wasn’t that the dress had even been that bad—more that it hadn’t done her justice. It was all I’d seen at first, mostly because it was hard to see anything else beyond it. But I’d looked again when Bingley confirmed they were dating, because Elizabeth Bennet was as far from his usual type as it was possible to get. I’d never seen him date any girl who wasn’t a statuesque blonde with legs for days and a Hollywood smile.

Elizabeth wasn’t short per se, merely on a smaller scale, with a figure svelte enough that it could be swamped by the wrong dress. The hand she’d put in mine had been small and delicate, even if she’d shaken it with the confidence of a woman who was not easily intimidated. She had thick hair that fell past her shoulders in soft waves, big dark eyes that had held more than a hint of amusement, and a mouth that…

A groan—mine, apparently—cracked the silence in my office. This was the other problem with Elizabeth Bennet. And it was a big problem.

I liked her.

No, like was the wrong word, because whilst I’d undeniably felt a stirring of something for her, there had been nothing platonic about it. Despite the dress, despite the brevity of our interaction, I’d noticed Elizabeth in a way that I should definitely not have noticed my closest friend’s girlfriend.

It was a good thing she’d be out of the picture soon—and I would put good money on that happening, because in all the years I’d known him, I had never seen a more disingenuous woman on Bingley’s arm. Not even Laura.

The way Elizabeth only touched him when she thought someone was watching; the way she jumped when he touched her; the way she feigned vapidity while listening to his conversations in a way that suggested she actually understood every word… I didn’t know what her game was, but I already knew I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her. I didn’t like that she’d got her claws into my overly trusting friend, and I liked even less that she’d barely left my thoughts since I first set eyes on her.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and willed the lazy pounding behind my eyes to bugger off. Another thing I shouldn’t have done last night: stayed at the bar drinking until the early hours, but it’d been preferable to returning to my flat. With a deep sigh, I pushed up from my chair and left my office in search of coffee.

Hydro Crops took up the entire thirty-sixth floor of the skyscraper, with the individual departments and executive offices set up around the periphery, looking out across London in all directions, and the communal areas—break-out spaces, meeting rooms, and a small kitchen—in the centre. I headed there. There was a café—Quick Bite—two floors down, but the company Nespresso machine was nearer and my need for caffeine very real.

Coffee had barely begun to dribble into my mug when someone came in behind me.

“Morning, Darcy! How was Japan?”

I recognised the voice as belonging to the head of Legal, Don Polanski, and threw him a quick nod over my shoulder in greeting. “The country was incredible. The conference was less…” I stopped talking because only then did my sluggish brain catch up with what—or rather whom—I’d just seen standing next to Polanski. I turned around slowly, not sure what I was more afraid of—that I was having a hangover-induced hallucination or that she was actually here.

Elizabeth didn’t look much less confused. Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes were darting between Polanski, me, and my mug. “Why are you using the coffee machine?” she asked in a small voice. “That’s for employees.”

Polanski chuckled. “Elizabeth, this is Darcy, co-founder of Hydro Crops. It’s basically his coffee machine.”

I clenched my teeth. As though it was any business of hers anyway! Sleeping with the CEO didn’t give her the right to gatekeep the drinks supply. What was she even doing here? I crossed my arms and regarded her, waiting for an explanation. And like last night, she didn’t give me one—Polanski did.

“Darcy, this is Elizabeth Bennet, the contractor from Lucas GreenTech. She’s working with us on the patent.”

I was at serious risk of cracking a molar. I’d assumed she’d come with Bingley straight from his place and was making use of the facilities before heading to her own job, but… “You work here?”

She nodded, slightly incredulous, as though she didn’t believe it either.

The small room abruptly got even more crowded as Priya Kumar, the Chief Finance Officer, and Bingley breezed in. The latter halted in his tracks and paled upon noticing the standoff currently occurring between me and his girlfriend. His lips moved as he swore to himself, and I almost scoffed. Too right he should be worried. Clearly, this was why he hadn’t mentioned Elizabeth to me. This violated every HR policy in the book.

“Bingley, could I possibly have a word with you?” Elizabeth said in a tone that would have amused me if I weren’t so irritated. There was no mistaking that Bingley was in trouble with his other half, but for the life of me, I couldn’t work out what she had to be unhappy about.

I cleared my throat. “Apologies, but Bingley and I have urgent business that can’t wait. I’ll send him to you as soon as we’re finished.”

She barely spared me a glance, continuing to glare at Bingley as she said, “Fine. I’ll be at my desk.” She grunted a goodbye to Polanski and marched out of the kitchen.

I picked up my coffee and headed out as well, my eyes on Bingley. “And I’ll be at mine.”

“Are you out of your mind?” I hissed as soon as he came through my office door, cutting off whatever excuse had been on his lips. “You can’t date an employee. It’s an HR minefield.”

He cringed, though he tried to hide it by turning away to close the door. When he faced me again, he could not have looked more uncomfortable if he’d tried. “She’s a contractor,” he mumbled. “I don’t think it’s the same.”

“It’s probably worse. Do Human Resources know?”

“No one knows.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose. That means you can break up with her before you get accused of sexual harassment. Or favouritism. Or a conflict of interest.”

He frowned, though it was hard to tell whether he was cross or flustered. “None of that’s going to happen.”