Daring Mr Darcy by Carolyn Miller & Meredith Resce

Author:Carolyn Miller & Meredith Resce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carolyn Miller

Chapter 9

I peer out the plane’s window and see the blue-green water and the green-brown of the islands just off the mainland. A moment ago we’d passed over Mt Rainier and the snowy caps of other mountains, those markers that remind us we’re almost there. As much as I enjoy visiting the nation’s capital, there’s something to be said for heading west again knowing I’m heading into a slightly more relaxed environment. And while some might consider Seattle to be a big city, compared to others I’ve visited—London and Tokyo come to mind—it’s still quite small in the whole grand scheme of things. But I like the hills, I like the proximity to water, and the islands that hold the hope of escape. Puget Sound reminds me a little of Sydney Harbour, and there’s a way more relaxed vibe than what I experience on the east coast. Maybe it’s because I know I’m closer to being home.

I straighten my papers as the plane tilts and begins its descent, and Marco reminds my fellow passengers of the need to stay buckled up. This might be my plane, but we’ve decided it’s more environmentally and economically efficient to offer it as a private plane on occasion, so there are certain times when I’m travelling long distances when we accept other passengers. I let Marco take care of that, and the retired United pilot is happy with the arrangement. It works out better for me, as I hate the cringe-inducing optics of being known to heavily invest in environmental causes and yet I have my own plane. But at least this plane runs on biofuel—recycled cooking oil—something that surprises most people when they learn about it.

An hour later I’m being driven to another meeting at the Grand Hyatt, this one about a scheme to support women in Mexico. Ever since what happened to Maria, our former housekeeper, I’ve become more acutely aware of the mistreatment of women, and the femicide that occurs in and around Mexico City means I’m wanting to do what I can to alleviate some of the pain. Not that anything can ever make up for the loss of life, but at least if honest police can be resourced to catch the—

“Sir, we’re here.”

“Thanks.” I give the driver a twenty-dollar tip and exit the cab, entering the lobby as a bunch of men wearing the colors of Calgary’s hockey team are followed by burly suit-wearing men holding coffee cups. Probably here to play at the Climate Pledge Arena. I have box seats—one of the perks of being a major sponsor—and I want to catch a game, but business hasn’t really allowed for much fun. I wince at memories of the failed Mr. Fun, and how my sister dared me to squeeze a bit more joy out of life. Well, I tried. And look how well that turned out…

“Mr. Darcy?” One of the receptionists has a big, red-lipsticked smile. “Your suite is ready.”

“The usual?”

“Yes, sir.”

I take the room card she offers and motion to my bags, and she assures me someone will bring them up immediately.

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