Taming Mr. Darcy (The Taming Series Book 4) Read online

  “Come in!”

  Drew cracked open the door and allowed me to enter first. The principal of the school had her headquarters in a small, cramped closet. An old desktop computer rested on her desk. The tablet at the front of the table proudly declared her name: PRINCIPAL FERGUSON. Mrs. Ferguson was a lady of average height and build. Her smooth dark tone and rich Jamaican accent was unique for the principal of a Belizean primary school.

  “Good afternoon,” Drew took the lead and I allowed him. “We’ve come to collect the papers.”

  “No problem.” The woman beamed at us as she handed Drew the reams of paper. “And thank you so much, Mr. Darcy for-”

  “It was nothing.” He cut the woman off and quickly shuffled me out of the office, “Have a nice day.”

  “Good bye!” She waved at us like she’d won the lottery.

  “What was that about?” I inquired when we’d returned to the car.

  “What?”

  “You and the principal.”

  Drew shrugged and started the vehicle. “What’s the name of the next school?”

  “Faith and Grace Primary School.” I said; still not ready to give up the thread of our last conversation.

  “You were a student there, right?”

  “Yes,” I confessed, willing to let the strange interaction at the last school go. “I had a lot of fun there.”

  “I went to a private elementary school.” Drew shared. “I often wondered what it would be like to attend a school a little less obsessed with academics and a little more understanding of our ages.”

  “I’m sorry you had to go through a crappy elementary system.” I conveyed my genuine sympathy, “For me, primary school was running around with my friends in the school yard and playing basketball and Red Rover during P.E. It was ballet classes and karate classes and choir and steel pan. We learned school stuff too, but my primary school years were some of the best.”

  Drew turned down the street for my Alma Mater and quickly glanced at me. “Everything in Belize is so vibrant and full of energy. I could understand why everyone is drawn to live here.”

  I agreed with his assessment. “It’s really one of the best places in the world.”

  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes and then his lips turned up in a secret smile.

  “What?” I asked, recognizing the look.

  Spencer often gave Melody that strange gaze when she did something that he found amusing.

  “Nothing.” Drew replied.

  I shook my head, “That wasn’t a nothing look.”

  Drew parked in front of the green school with the white fence and swung around. “You’re okay, Lexi Reyes.” He declared and then climbed out of the vehicle to wait for me on the sidewalk.

  I grinned to myself.

  That was the first time Andrew Darcy had said my name without perpetuating pulses of annoyance up my spine. Could it be?

  Was I starting to dislike him a little… less?

  There was no time to think about that now. I got out of the car and joined him in the sidewalk.

  “You ready?” He asked.

  I glanced at him. The sunlight heightened the blue of his eyes and the raven black tint of his hair.

  “Yeah,” I said confidently, “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Each and every principal we visited seemed especially happy to see us. No one explained their ecstatic demeanors and I simply assumed that the joy of having their schools involved in this project was the root of their optimism. After collecting all the data, Drew dropped me home so that I could complete my programming duties for the day. He planned to come over later after tallying the surveys so that we could go over the storyline, main characters and setting.

  I worked at a mad rush all evening, hurrying to perfect the programming code for a local bank, something that was due tomorrow morning at eight a.m. sharp. Daylight shifted to evening and I only arose from my swivel chair to switch on the lamp next to the computer desk and to pee. The overhead fan swung noisily in the small room.

  Three knocks sounded at the door and I glanced at the time in the right hand bottom corner of my screen.

  Shoot! Darcy. I’d completely forgotten.

  I jumped up from my swivel chair and admitted him in.

  “I completely forgot about our meeting.” I confessed sheepishly.

  Drew stepped inside and shrugged. He was still in the Superman T-shirt and jeans.

  “It’s okay. I can come back tomorrow.”

  I heard a plastic bag crinkle and glanced around him to see what he held behind his back.

  “What do you have there?” I inquired, sniffing the air to test the contents of the plastic.

  He brought the gift forward and I inhaled the beautiful scent of chicken burgers and fries.

  Oh, that was such a beautiful fragrance.

  “Archie said it was common Belizean etiquette to bring food to people’s houses when you visited.”

  “Archie said that, huh?”

  Drew’s ears tinged pink and I found it adorable. “Among other things.”

  I pushed the door fully open and bowed at the waist, “Archie is right. Please come in.”

  Food was important to me. Thanks to my father’s metabolism, I didn’t pack weight the way I probably should given my terrible diet. I was young. I wanted to take advantage of my metabolism while I could.

  I closed the door behind him and locked it.

  “Gimme, gimme, gimme.” I waved my fingers and gestured at the burgers.

  Drew surveyed me strangely and handed me the fast food.

  I extracted the first plate and opened it on the little kitchen table. The hallelujah chorus sounded as I slowly opened the carton top.

  Haaalelujah. Haaalelujah!

  A beautifully brown and breaded chicken breast lay nestled within the loving arms of sesame seed buns. The only evil in this picture came in the form of a leaf of lettuce, two slices of tomato and pickles.

  Blegh.

  If God had intended for us to eat vegetables, he wouldn’t have permitted us to eat meat.

  It was common sense.

  “Wow, I thought food was the way to a man’s heart.” Drew teased.

  I covered the burger’s fat sides with my palms, “Don’t listen to him, baby.” I consoled the sandwich.

  Drew chuckled and spread the papers on the surface of the table.

  “I guess I’ll work while you eat.”

  “You catch on fast, kid.” I congratulated him and took a big bite of my burger. “Did I tell you thanks for this?”

  “I must have missed that.” Drew mused setting the papers in order.

  “Thanks, Drew.” I said happily and continued stuffing my face.

  He rolled his eyes but I could tell that he was pleased. “You’re welcome.”

  “Okay, what did the little munchkins have to say?” I nodded toward the papers that had a myriad of colorful designs on them. These kids were Mozarts.

  Wait, wasn’t Mozart a musician?

  I winced. I should probably stay away from comparisons in the future.

  Drew treaded to the living room for his laptop and explained the spreadsheet he’d made in Excel. The children had spoken and the cartoons that had come out on top were the simple, classics like Tom and Jerry and the new fangled shows about a strange spoon that made friends with pickles.

  According to the statistics, our standards as a generation had fallen considerably if we were entertained by a talking spoon and some pickles.

  But then again, Melody was obsessed with talking vegetables so…

  “And that’s why I thought we could keep true to the clean lines of that animation and incorporate the kind of dry humor of the cat and mouse chase.” Drew was saying.

  Ooh, I totally missed that.

  I paused and nodded as if I was listening.

  “Hey,” Drew quipped, “I don’t want to take over here. If you have a better idea feel free to…”


  “No, no.” I flipped my hand dismissively. “I’m not the story teller. Melody was always better at writing stories than I was.”

  “Okay…” Drew said slowly. “Well, I’d still like your input.”

  I heard a bit of chastisement in the cloaked command and tried to shape up. The food had distracted me from my usual business self. It was time to return to work mode. I popped one more fry in my mouth and then drew near to him.

  “Let’s start from the top.”

  Drew walked me through his ideas and I gave my opinion until we decided on a story line that the both of us were comfortable with. The theme of the show stayed true to Mrs. Freemont’s dream of a group of friends learning more about Belizean history. We stole from the Disney show where two brothers tried to make the most of their summer by inventing crazy machines. In our brain storming session, I felt excitement quivering my hands.

  Drew’s straightforward manner and clear cut ideas were a nice compliment to my more bombastic and extravagant suggestions. I was usually shy and reserved about many, many things but animation was not one of them.

  “This is good.” Drew sighed and reached for the red plastic holding his now cold burger and soggy fries. “I feel confident introducing this format to Sharon.”

  “She’ll love it.” I agreed, savoring my last bite of the burger. “When would you want to start the animating process?”

  “Whenever you get the new software. Sharon also mentioned that we might be doing some local television and radio appearances.”

  I coughed. “What? I didn’t sign up for that!”

  I hated the spotlight with a capital H. If I could linger in the shadows and blend in to my surroundings all the time I would. There was absolutely no need for me to be on TV.

  Nope. I wouldn’t do it.

  “Why are you so against advertising the cartoons?”

  “Because,” I explained, “I don’t like public appearances.”

  Drew frowned, “You don’t go out in public?”

  “No.” I clarified, “I don’t like when the public notices me.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean ‘why’. Because.”

  “Because what?”

  “Because I just don’t.”

  He still seemed perplexed. Folding his arms against his chest, Drew leaned back and appraised me with his deep blue eyes.

  “I’m trying to figure you out, Lexi. But every time I think I have a handle on you, you stump me.”

  “So stop trying.” I insisted, stealing a fry from his plate.

  It was cold.

  “Are you insecure about your appearance? Is that why you don’t like being the focus of attention.”

  “What?” I coughed and repeated more clearly. “What?”

  “I guess you have flaws,” he teased and I punched him the arm. “But we all have flaws.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I am very confident in who I am and the face that I was blessed with. I could be a model if I wanted to.”

  Drew chuckled, “Okay, so if it’s not that what is it?”

  “You really wanna know?” I asked him.

  His sincere blue eyes twinkled as he nodded his head up and down and continued to eat.

  “I had a very traumatizing experience when I was ten.”

  He leaned in closer.

  I continued, “We went to this place called Living Waters Church. It was Sunday morning. The rain beat on the tin roof like demons banging on ceremonial drums…”

  “Really?” Drew interrupted my story.

  I frowned at him. “Hey, don’t interrupt me. I was in the zone.”

  He put a fist to his smiling lips and waved me on.

  “It was dark except for the one spotlight streaming down on the crucifix of Jesus. It was time for the offering, time for everyone to strut to the front of the sanctuary so that people could admire their clothes under the guise of giving to the Lord.”

  Drew snickered. I ignored him.

  “The tiles were slick when I stood and walked toward the wicker baskets lined with purple cloth. They were too slick. My pretty black church shoes slipped on the tiled floor. I went flying down, landing on my face with a painful thud.” I raised my voice and lifted my arms as I drew to the close of my recounting. “I was horrified and slowly, like a ripped tide, a surge of laughter echoed throughout the building. I stood painfully to my feet and beheld a crowd of women, men and children, pointing at me and laughing their butts off.”

  I rounded my eyes and gazed at him pitifully.

  “Since then, I don’t ever walk up for offering and I don’t like being in front of too many people. Just the thought brings me back to that terrible moment.”

  Drew surveyed me carefully.

  “Are you pulling my leg?”

  “What?”

  I confided my most embarrassing moment to him and he dares to react with such disrespect?

  “Is that seriously what happened?”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed.

  “But if we go on the radio, then nobody will see your face and you won’t be in front of a crowd of people.”

  “Yes,” I explained slowly, “But I’ll feel like it. And that’s just as bad.”

  Drew rapped his knuckles on the wooden table and shrugged.

  “Well, let me help you.”

  “Help me with what?”

  “You’re fear of public speaking.”

  “No.”

  “Why not.”

  “Because.”

  “Because…?”

  “Just because.”

  Drew grinned, “You’re not really good at arguing, are you?”

  “Nope.” I admitted and snatched his last fry.

  If Drew kept on bringing me food, I might actually start to like him as a person.

  He sighed and closed the lid of the container.

  “Fine.” He gave in and stood up to throw away the empty cartons.

  I glanced suspiciously at him.

  That was easy. Too easy.

  “You’re just agreeing with me?”

  “Yeah,” Drew shrugged and washed his hands at the sink.

  “No arguments. No lectures.”

  “Nope.”

  I started patting down my body and checking beneath the chair and table.

  “What are you doing?” Drew questioned.

  I peered at him and then continued to search. “I’m looking for the catch.”

  He laughed. “There’s no catch. If you don’t want my help, then I won’t force it. We’re partners, not friends.”

  His words were like a bucket of cold ice. To be fair, I had been the one to lay the groundwork for that statement. But after the moment at my parents house with the potato salad and the napkin, and our time together this morning visiting schools and eating lunch, I’d kind of thought we were making steps towards being friends.

  “Oh, right. Of course.” I said drily.

  He nodded.

  “So, would it be possible for me to see your animes?”

  “Which ones.” I questioned further, recognizing that this was Drew in work mode once again.

  “Any. I was searching for them before I came but they’re not under your name.”

  “Yeah,” I explained, shaking away my earlier disappointment, “I decided to remain anonymous, though some of my content gives away the fact that I’m a Caribbean girl at heart.”

  “Do you translate the episodes to Japanese?”

  “No. The fans do that.”

  Drew smirked. “You have fans.”

  I led him to the living room where I pulled out my laptop.

  “I have a … small following. We’re anime lovers. We don’t make a lot of noise.”

  “That’s really cool.” Drew added, “I have a small following myself.”

  “Nice.” I quickly typed in my website and showed him my page.

  “Anime Island?” He smirked.

  “Don’t laugh. It took me forever to come up with th
at.”

  The smile didn’t leave his face, “It’s nice.” He admitted.

  “Thank you.”

  “How many episodes do you have?”

  “Uh,” I counted in my head, “I have two series. The first has two seasons of ten episodes each and the second has five episodes so far.”

  “Wow,” Drew seemed duly impressed, “So you create all the characters, design their clothes, assign their mannerisms and still run a business?”

  “Yup.” I accepted, feeling proud of myself. “I’ll show you an episode of Lysani. That’s the second story. It’s about a girl who has the ability to shape-shift. What makes it interesting is she can travel through the galaxies and shape shift into any beast in the entire universe.”

  “Whoa.” Drew listened and cocked his head to the side as he stared at me intently.

  “It’s pretty cool.” I agreed.

  I figured that since Drew was interested in video games, he wouldn’t be affronted by the serious nerd storm that was breezing out of my mouth.

  I pressed play and the short twenty minute animation rolled on to the screen. Drew watched my life’s passion with an expressionless face and I started getting nervous. He’d remained straight-faced through three of the jokes.

  Oh boy. If he hated my anime… I had no idea what I’d do.

  It took a lot of work to produce one episode all on my own. I wasn’t an artist and so, even though I sketched my ideas, I had to depend mainly on software and corrective programs to create the ‘cels’ or characters in the episode. I was by no means an expert nor did I claim any sort of notoriety for any aspect of anime production. However, allowing Drew a front page view of my work was very humbling. I didn’t mind one bit that none of my friends and family had seen an episode of Lysani. I preferred getting negative reviews from strangers online than from the people that I cared about.

  Not that I cared about Drew.

  But, his opinion still mattered to me.

  If that made sense.

  The episode was almost over. I glanced at the laptop screen and chuckled lightly as Lysani shape shifted into a fantastic winged creature from planet Xisina. Coming up with names for strange planets was one of my favorite parts of the story board process. This particular scene was one of the most challenging to create. I had to ensure that the timing and movement of the picture remained consistent with the episodes before it.