Jeremy paid the bill and we’d just stood to leave when another couple brushed past us.
“Meg?”
I swiveled around. “Harrison?”
“What are you doing here?” we both asked in unison.
Harrison was with Lacey Lewis, of course. She wore a slinky black dress that exposed the kind of cleavage you saw on a red carpet, while Harrison wore slacks and a nicer shirt and jacket than he normally did. All black with a white shirt. They totally looked like they were on a date.
I wanted to be indignant, but I immediately realized that it probably looked like Jeremy and I were on a date too. I couldn’t be angry with Harrison when I was holding the same guilty stick.
“Lacey and I are having a working dinner,” Harrison said, eyeing Jeremy up and down.
“Hi, Dr. Knightley,” Lacey chirped. “Oh, this must be your brother. Didn’t you tell me Meg has a brother, Harry?” She pawed at Harrison’s sleeve. Her manicure was still red and still perfect.
She was calling him “Harry” now? What? Like the prince? I’d never heard anyone call him “Harry.” It kind of made me want to gag. Just a little.
Harrison shook his head and I added, “No, he’s not my brother. This is Jeremy. Jeremy Remington. Jeremy, this is Harrison Macomb and Lacey Lewis.”
Jeremy shook Harrison’s hand and said, “Nice to meet you,” to Lacey while she continued to watch him like a lion stalking a gazelle. She also continued to hang on Harrison’s arm, and I continued wanting to gag.
“Is this your Mr. Darcy, then?” Lacey asked in a purring tone.
“Yes.” I lifted my chin. “Jeremy is my new partner.”
“Wherever did you manage to find him?” she asked in an incredulous tone, one that made it obvious that she thought I must have tricked him into standing by my side. Boy, did I hope Lacey Lewis never found that that I was paying Jeremy.
“We’re...” I cleared my throat. “We’re old friends.”
A muscle ticked in Harrison’s jaw, but he remained silent.
“Got your lines memorized, do you?” Lacey licked her lips, nearly leering at Jeremy.
I wanted to elbow her in the gut and tell her to back off of Jeremy, the irony of which was not lost on me, considering she had her hands on my actual man.
“Nearly,” Jeremy replied jovially, moving his hand possessively to the small of my back. Oh my God. I loved him for that. With Lacey pawing at Harrison, it was just what I needed in that moment not to feel so vulnerable and lonely. I took a deep breath, feeling my confidence return.
“What do you do for a living, Jeremy?” Harrison finally broke his silence.
I groaned inwardly. Of course Harrison would ask that. He was as judgey a snob as I was. If I was Mr. Darcy, he was...also Mr. Darcy? Mr. Darcy’s similarly judgey twin brother? Hearing him ask Jeremy what he did, however, made me realize for the first time what a truly unattractive trait it was to judge people based on their profession.
“I’m a woodworker,” Jeremy replied. “Have my own business.”
Harrison’s brows lifted. “A carpenter?”
“No. A woodworker. There’s a difference.” Jeremy’s tone was polite but firm.
“He has a master’s degree in Engineering from Stanford,” I added in order to wipe the smug smile off of Harrison’s face. I knew it was wrong of me to bother to say it, but I also knew Harrison.
“Need that for woodworking?” Harrison asked, the smile still there and still smug, but a certain light had come into his eye. A sign of respect. I could tell.
“Nope,” Jeremy replied. “Just took a wrong turn when I was younger and finally straightened it out.” He obviously didn’t give care what either of these two thought of him. God, I admired him for that. Why did I care what they thought?
Lacey tugged impatiently at Harrison’s sleeve. She craned her neck to look out the front windows. “Oh, I do hope the paparazzi haven’t found us.” She sighed, a pout on her lips.
“Yep, I hate when that happens.” Jeremy cracked a smile.
“What?” Lacey turned her attention back to us and narrowed her eyes on Jeremy.
He cleared his throat. “I was kidding.”
“Yes, well, it’s not funny.” Lacey tapped the toe of her black patent-leather high heel against the stained cement floor. “Do you have any idea what these people put me through?”
“No, actually, I have no idea,” Jeremy replied.
“We should go,” Harrison said, stepping forward.
“Yes, let’s,” Lacey said, her lips still pouty.
Just before they walked away, she turned back to me, leaned down, and said in a stage whisper, “Dr. Knightley, I hope you don’t mind me giving you some advice.” She didn’t pause for my answer. “You really shouldn’t wear maxi-dresses. They’re not the best style choice for short women.”
My mouth fell open, but no sound came out, save for a strange hitching/breathing noise. It felt like the time I’d understudied as Juliet and had to practice the part at the end where I stuck a knife in my gut. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t speak. Had she really just said that to me? The woman was completely audacious. Not to mention rude. I mean, I knew maxi dresses didn’t look great on short ladies, but I’d worn it to practice my waltz. She didn’t need to throw both my shortness and my poor clothing choice in my face.
I needed to reply immediately with a pithy quip. Obviously. But when being insulted by a Megan Fox impersonator, pithy quips apparently don’t roll off my tongue. Those always come later, after I’ve had something in the range of twelve obsessive hours to think about what I should have said.
My neck heated and I could feel the blush spreading up my cheeks and across my face. “That was extremely impolite of you, Ms. Lewis.” Jeremy pulled me into the crook of his arm. “Meg looks great, and I think you owe her an apology.”
Lacey pushed a dark curl behind her ear. “I was trying to do her a favor. She’s not the most stylish.”
My gaze bounced back and forth between Harrison and Lacey. I still couldn’t think of an appropriate response. “Go to hell, you over-coiffed bitch,” seemed too boorish. I raised my eyebrows at Harrison, who only repeated, “We should go.”
He led the way, and in seconds, the two had slipped outside through the sleek glass front doors.
I stood there, shell-shocked, with Jeremy’s arm still around me. “I can’t believe she said that.”
Jeremy shook his head and squeezed me around the waist a little as if to bolster my spirits, but his next words did anything but. “I can’t believe your spineless boyfriend didn’t defend you.”
Um, yes, the same thought had crossed my mind. But I’d already jumped ahead to my next discussion with Harrison. The one we would have when we were alone. The one in which he’d explain that he couldn’t afford to make Lacey angry because our tenure and the department’s reputation depended on her. Of course, those would only sound like excuses to Jeremy, but I did the best I could. “He doesn’t want to upset her. She’s paying him.”
“Who gives a crap? You’re paying me, too, but I wouldn’t let you speak that way to my girlfriend.”