From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 16

Nat

"It's amazing how much damage a simple piece of gorgonzola cheese made. I swear to you, I didn't leave the toilet at all that weekend. I even took some pictures, if you don't believe me."

"We believe you, alright!", Doug thankfully said before Patty's date could show us the "damage". Oh, she knew how to choose them. The worst of them.

Peter Parker was really proud of his name, making the most humorless Spider Man jokes the whole night. When he ran out of jokes, we were relieved, believing we could finally have a normal conversation. That was when he began explaining in pretty specific – and pretty disgusting – details all his allergies.

"So, what do you do for a living?", I asked, praying that, whatever he did, would be a conversation topic less horrible than the food poisoning he'd suffered a few weeks before.

"I'm an accountant. I know it must sound boring, but it can be quite exciting, I can assure you." He winked at Patty, who looked even more annoyed than I felt.

"Well, this is the last time I accept going out with a guy I met at a supermarket", she complained when Peter went to the bathroom, after telling us the bread had made him feel puffy.

"Do not expect me back at the table any time soon", he'd told us, his right hand protectively over his stomach, while he walked away, "This will take a while."

Ugh.

"And this is the last time we go out with you on a double date", I told her.

"Be easy on her, Nat", Doug said with a smile before kissing my cheek.

"She's right, Doug... This is her only night off this week and I drag the two of you to the most awkward date in History." Patty looked sad, making me feel guilty.

"It's not your fault, Patty", I assured her, putting my hand over hers. "Just make sure you never date a guy with a superhero name again."

"You're being cute now", she smiled at me, stood up and left the table, "I'm going to get another drink. Would you like another one too, Nat?"

"Sure. Who knows what Peter Parker will talk about next?"

"Oh, I almost forgot; I was thinking about spending this weekend at the Hamptons. Would you like to come along?"

"I could work it out at the station", Doug said and turned to me, "What about you, Nat?"

His brown eyes were hopeful. It had been several weeks since we'd spent an entire weekend together. For the first time that night, I took my time admiring him; I wasn't with Doug for his physical attributes, but he was certainly a very agreeable man to look at. He was the complete set of women's fantasy about cops: blond hair, tanned skin, broad shoulders, a square jaw and that tough look detectives from TV always had.

During our self- defense classes, many women tried getting his attention, but he maintained a professional posture, without ever been anything but polite. Even his colleagues from the police force made fun of him; they said he'd broken many female witnesses' hearts over the years.

"Well..." What fun was there without the suspense? "Dad's planning on having an infiltration problem fixed at the restaurant this weekend, so it will be closed down... Then... I guess I can make it!"

"Great! Will Bobby and Annie be able to make it too?" Patty was genuinely excited. I couldn't understand why Fanny refused to cut her any slack.

"Oh, I'm sure they will. Even if they have to kidnap Patricia to do so." Doug joked, and we all agreed. Bobby never hid the fact he loved Patty's mansion at the Hamptons.

"By the way, your guest, Darcy, is invited too. I can't wait to meet him."

Holy flocking seat!

"What guest, Nat?" Yeah, I hadn't told my boyfriend about Darcy yet. Before you judge me, I hadn't seen Doug in over a week, way before Darcy's arrival. Telling your boyfriend a gorgeous British actor slash gentleman was sleeping just across the hall from your room was the kind of thing one must tell personally. And alone.

"Oh, he's just a friend of Ethan's. We're helping him out." I tried to play the there's-nothing-to-worry-about angle. His pursed lips and narrowed eyes told me he wasn't buying it.

"You're helping a stranger out by letting him stay at your house?" He was in his detective-but-still-your-boyfriend mode. Oh, no.

"Technically, it's not my house, it's my Grandmother's. And it was my dad's decision to take in a guest, not mine." It was the truth. Not the whole truth, though.

"Did you say guest?" Yep, Peter returned to our table at that moment. The only good thing he did that whole evening. Doug looked like he was about to punch anyone crazy enough to annoy him. "My roommate got a "guest" a few months ago. The idiot was a freak! He'd drink the milk from the box, he'd go out without ironing his shirt, he'd even eat in his bed (which was actually our sofa bed)..."

Needless to say he spent the rest of the evening telling us how traumatic the guest experience had been. At some point, I wondered how Darcy was handling his waiter duties.

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