Liz looked at Lydia. “Who told you about Willie?”
“Mom is flipping her shit,” Lydia said. “FYI.”
As Lydia spoke, Mrs. Bennet’s voice became audible from the other side of the closed swinging door between the kitchen and dining room. “Is that Lizzy? Is Lizzy back?”
The door swung into the kitchen, and Mrs. Bennet appeared, flushed and bustling. “Lizzy, what on earth were you thinking? Why, you probably hurt his feelings terribly.”
“Mom, please don’t tell me you think I should date Cousin Willie.”
“He’s smart, he’s successful, and it’s late in the game for you to be picky.”
“He’s my—”
“He’s your step-cousin, Elizabeth. Don’t try to tell me you’re related, because you aren’t.”
“It’s not legal in Ohio to marry your first cousin,” Liz said. During her pedicure, she had checked this information on her phone, hoping to bolster her dismay with facts; she didn’t mention that such a marriage actually was legal in California. “So let’s say we fell madly in love, which would never happen. If we wanted to make it official, we’d need to hire a lawyer.”
“That’d be awesome if you went to prison for marrying Willie,” Lydia said. “I’d laugh so hard.”
“Is someone else pursuing you?” Mrs. Bennet asked, and her accusatory tone made Liz immediately think of the red teddy. “Because if there is, I’d like to know who.”
“OKAY, DON’T KILL me,” Charlotte said to Liz at Zula, “but I was thinking about it, and I can see Willie being a good boyfriend.”
“Have you ever had a conversation with him?”
“I talked to him for a while at Chip’s dinner party. He was nice.”
“Putting aside the cousin stuff, which there’s no way I can do, he’s incredibly pompous. And even though he’s smart, he isn’t very interesting, because he’s not interested in other people. In retrospect, I realize that the only questions he asked were when he was evaluating me as girlfriend material.”
Charlotte looked carefully at Liz. “Are you sure there’s no ST between you and Darcy?”
“I’m totally sure.” ST, an abbreviation the two friends had been using since their high school days, stood for sexual tension. Liz leaned forward. “Although it turns out Jasper and Darcy went to college together and don’t like each other.” She thought of mentioning Jasper’s expulsion from Stanford, but without yet knowing the circumstances, she was hesitant. Instead, she said, “Jasper’s coming to Cincinnati to write an article about squash. Want to meet him when he’s here?”
“Of course I do. Wait, did you just say he’s coming to write an article?” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Please.”
Liz laughed. “And because I’m irresistible and he can’t stay away from me,” she said. “Also because of that.”
“Is he really writing an article, or is that just the excuse he’s giving people?”
Liz took a sip of wine. “It’s both.”
RETURNING TO THE Tudor at ten o’clock, Liz saw in the driveway an unfamiliar navy blue SUV and therefore, knowing she wasn’t the last one awake, left the kitchen light on. She’d passed through the dining room and reached the front hall when she heard from the den hushed but unmistakably flirtatious voices that halted just before Lydia appeared in the den’s doorway. “Are you suffering from PTSD after Willie kissed you?” Lydia asked.
“Probably,” Liz said.
“Come in here.” Lydia’s tone was uncharacteristically warm. “I’ll introduce you to Ham.”
He was, as Liz had discerned from his website, fit and handsome in a rather conventional way, though when he stood as she entered the room, she saw that he was significantly shorter than she’d have imagined. Ham extended his arm. “Hamilton Ryan. Or Ham, if you prefer, just like the lunch meat.”
“Liz Bennet.”
“One of the New York sisters, if I’m not mistaken,” he said.
“Not bad,” Liz said. “There are a lot of us to keep track of.” She gestured to the television screen, which was frozen on the opening credits of a popular cable series about FBI agents, and asked, “Which season?”
“First season, first episode,” Ham said, and Liz said, “Then you guys have a lot to look forward to. Or at least until season three, when it comes unraveled. Ham, you own a gym?”
“I do.”
“Liz thinks CrossFit is ‘culty.’?” Lydia made air quotes.
Good-naturedly, Ham said, “It is.”
“I never said that,” Liz protested. “It just wasn’t for me.”
“Because she tried it once six years ago, for an article she was writing.”
“I did it more than once,” Liz said.
“That’s right,” Ham said. “You work for a magazine. That sounds like a cool job.”
“Depending on the day,” Liz said.
“Liz, Ham is old like you,” Lydia said. “He was born in the seventies.”
Liz and Ham made eye contact and laughed. “I thought you seemed kind of geriatric,” Liz said. “What year?”