Chapter 1

Happy was the day Phyllis Bennet learned her most exasperating daughter had a boyfriend.

They were alone in the kitchen, rinsing off the dishes after Lydia’s birthday dinner, when her mother mentioned that her dentist’s nephew was newly single—again. Elizabeth, fighting off a headache after spending hours at the boisterous family gathering, blurted out the ill-fated words: “I’m already seeing someone.”

Mrs Bennet nearly dropped a casserole dish. “When did this start?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“Where did you meet?”

Elizabeth affected nonchalance while tamping down guilt over telling a white lie. “At a gallery in the city.”

“Of course, a starving artist type.”

“No, he’s not.” Elizabeth grasped for the blandest, safest job she could think of. “He’s an accountant.”

Mrs Bennet’s tone changed swiftly from annoyance to enthusiasm. “Wonderful—he has a steady career and knows how to handle money. What’s his name?”

It took Elizabeth a second longer than it should have to offer one up, but then her eye was caught by the blue and white braided mat on the kitchen floor. “Matt.”

“Matt? Does he have a last name?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said almost grimly as she realized just what she had spiraled herself into. “But I’m not telling you yet. The last thing I need is for you or Lydia or Kitty to do a deep-dive into Google and find out everything you can about him before I do.”

Her mother nodded, seemingly mollified by the morsels Elizabeth had offered, but she was still incapable of keeping the news to herself. Within half an hour, everyone in the house—including her cousins and aunt and uncle—had been informed. Even Jane believed it, scolding her happily for withholding such wonderful news. Yet, in spite of the guilt (and a small bit of humiliation) she felt over prevaricating—especially to her favorite sister—Elizabeth was mostly relieved. She had enough on her plate, and getting her mother off her back about being twenty-five and hopelessly single—when she didn’t even have time for a boyfriend—was just fine.

“What do you mean you can’t come? Everyone will be there. Even Louisa agreed to get a babysitter.”

Elizabeth stared at her phone as Jane continued encouraging her to attend a literacy fundraiser where the cheapest ticket cost a quarter of her monthly rent, plus the auction and cash bar? She had student loans and bills to pay.

She put on a smile and turned back to her phone; even through the cracked screen, she could see Jane was glowing with happiness.

“Please come with us, Lizzy. You haven’t seen Charlie’s sisters in forever, and Darcy will be there. He just got back from Singapore?—”

Darcy. She’d forgiven him for his role in Charlie and Jane’s brief breakup but she could not forget his offensive behavior towards her. Asking me out—rambling on about his feelings—after insulting my sister and telling Charlie he could do better.

Elizabeth knew it was inevitable that she and Darcy would meet again. But she would prefer to put it off until Jane and Charlie’s likely-to-happen-this-year engagement party, at the earliest. Civility would be required of everyone there. No drunken proclamations of love, or whatever Darcy had intended when he’d made the most bizarre declaration of lust and affection she’d ever heard.

The rough urgency in his voice and the desperation in his eyes had made her certain he was drunk, but nothing about him betrayed the smell of alcohol. He had been sincere and unsettling and infuriating—coming on to her days after he’d engineered Jane’s heartbreak.

Jane’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Bring Matt. You’ve been dating for nearly two months. I want to finally meet him!”

Matt. Cripes.

“I can’t. We, um, broke up.”

“Oh no, when? Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?”

“I’m fine. He’s fine. It was mutual.”

After a few more murmurings of sympathy, Elizabeth clicked the off button, sat back in her chair, and sighed. She loved her sister to pieces but ever since she and Charlie had reconciled, Jane was distracted from anything that wasn’t full of unicorns and rainbows. Of course, Jane taught kindergarteners, so such things weren’t unusual.

Jane arrived at her door the next morning, handed Elizabeth her favorite latte, and gave her a meaningful look. “You sounded tired yesterday.”

Elizabeth inhaled the sweet aroma of her chai, briefly wondering why her neighborhood coffee place always made Jane’s orders perfectly before she shrugged. “I’m fine. Work is busy—I’m training two new managers.”

“And?”

“Four weddings to go to—and two of them to be in! Celebrating everyone else’s happy future is expensive and exhausting. But I’m fine, really.”

“‘Fine, really?’ And that’s why you invented a fake boyfriend?” Jane’s left eyebrow rose, mirroring the expression she gave to misbehaving five-year-olds.

“What?”

“You are never just ‘fine’ after a breakup. You care too deeply to be ‘fine’. So either Matt was the dullest man alive or he didn’t exist. Plus,” Jane said, grinning, “a month ago, you said he had brown hair and tattoos, and last week, he was a ginger with freckles.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Good old ‘Matt-With-No-Last-Name’ existed long enough to keep Mom off my back for two months.”

Shaking her head, her expression a mix between exasperation and amusement, Jane picked up Elizabeth’s phone from the table and pushed it into her sister’s hand. “Check your email. I sent you an early birthday present. You, Lizzy Bennet, now have an account on MeetMe/LoveMe?—”

“No way!”

“—and unless you want me to tell Mom all about your imaginary boyfriend, we’re going to sit here and swipe through all the guys who liked your profile.”

“Ugh. I hate you.”