I’ll let the butt thing slide—the dress really is flattering, and I know my assets—but seeing him in the space I’ve devoted creative energy to feels like a violation. Part of why I ended up sketching on the ride home the other night was to distract myself from the push and pull of our argument. I’d wanted to write him off completely, but that goddamn smile before he walked out kept teaming up with the look at Meryton, and his comment about catching my peel: “I said I didn’t trust it. Not that I didn’t like it.”

And holy hell can the man wear a suit.

His eyes go wide. It is tremendously satisfying. “Bennet?”

“Darcy,” I say with all the coolness of my ten-second advantage.

The shock shifts to intrigue as he strolls my way, nodding politely to the people he has to move around. He maintains eye contact as he walks.

I roll my shoulders. He is very good with eye contact.

His attention drops down and up my figure, and I suppress a shiver.

He is also skilled at not making eye contact.

“Seeing Jane at the piano was surprising enough, then the aerialists, and now you.” He smiles, resting a hand on the railing. “No one’s going to start taking clothes off, are they?”

The candor threatens to throw me. “Nah. My boss is already enraptured.” I indicate Toby, who is probably going to need a chiropractor after tonight. Has he even moved since I walked away? “He wouldn’t know what to do with himself.”

“You’re with Work It?”

“I’m the executive assistant.”

“That—you’re EBenAdmin.” He says my email handle with meaningful realization. “You have excellent correspondence skills.”

“This is where I ask you how you know that.”

“I was cc’d on some emails. You really came through on that liability insurance.”

“Still not connecting the dots,” I say, though I don’t mind the tease. Is he being coy? The prospect tingles across my shoulders.

“As owner of the venue, it felt like I should be included in that kind of decision.”

The tingle gives way to shock. “Come again?”

“Pemberley’s been in my family for ages,” he says with a shrug. “It’s been several things over the years, but now we’re hosting events. Which I suppose you know, seeing as you rented it.”

I nod, still trying to wrap my brain around the new information. The beautiful space I’ve spent the past three days sketching belongs to him? I’m going to have to look up chaos gods when I get home, because this level of coincidence feels suspiciously divine.

“This means I was the meeting you had to get to the other day. With Jane,” he says, as though coming to the conclusion as he speaks.

“That’s why you were in such a rush.” I grimace. “I hope you were coming in anyway.”