A smile slowly spread on her face. "Oh, you're the one who got kicked out of Pemberley and are mortal enemies with Darcy."

"Lydia!" I was surprised by how much I sounded like Jane when I scolded her.

Wick just laughed. "My, aren't we forward? That's okay, I like forward."

I turned on the blender so I could drown out Lydia's excessive gabbing. I selfishly wanted to have Wick all to myself and take a break so we could catch up, but there was no way Lydia would be leaving us alone.

Lydia grabbed her drink out of my hand before I even had a chance to put the lid on. She started playing with the straw in what I could have only assumed was supposed to be a seductive manner.

"When's your break?" Wick asked me.

I glanced at the clock. "I suppose I could take a few minutes now." We headed toward a table. Lydia followed.

"You know," Lydia cooed to Wick, "I think Darcy probably hates Lizzie more than he hates you."

"Thanks for that." I shot her a look.

"What? Isn't that what you guys talk about? Darcy?"

Wick shrugged his shoulders. "You might not believe this, but there are things in this world worth talking about other than Will Darcy."

"Exactly." In fact, Wick and I hardly ever talked about Darcy. There was no need to bring up such an unpleasant subject.

"So, do you have a girlfriend?" Lydia asked bluntly.

"Why, are you auditioning?" Wick teased.

"You shouldn't encourage her," I whispered in his ear.

He raised his eyebrows. "Lydia, you can do much better than a guy like me."

"Oh, I don't know." Lydia bit her straw. "I like bad boys."

I resisted every urge to vomit. I was questioning humanity enough because of how Charles had treated Jane, and the last thing I needed to witness was flirting between Lydia and Wick.

"Well, I'm sorry, but this bad boy is somewhat taken at the moment." Wick winked at me.

I felt my face grow hot by his attention, and what he was implying.

"With whom?" Lydia asked.

"Oh." Wick wiggled in his seat. "She goes to Longbourn, so you might know her."

I looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

"Who?" Lydia prodded, not getting it.

"Sylvia Kent. She's a senior."

Sylvia Kent.

Sylvia Kent?

Sylvia Kent!

I tried to process what he was saying. I knew who Sylvia Kent was, but it didn't make sense. I thought he despised the girls at Longbourn just as much as I did. I was trying to understand, but there was a part of my brain that just wasn't letting me. Sylvia Kent?

Wick could tell with one look at me that there was something wrong. I'm sure I wasn't being very subtle with my confusion, but Wick knew me. We had an understanding between us -- or at least I thought we had, until the words "Sylvia Kent" left his lips.

He turned to Lydia. "It's Lydia, right?" he asked. She became overly pleased that he knew her name. "Could you give me a few minutes alone with Lizzie?"

Lydia got up, went to an empty table, and started texting.

I couldn't look at Wick. I was so horrified that I'd assumed he had any feeling for me at all.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you sooner," he began.

I cut him off. "Oh, it's fine. You didn't need to say anything to me. It's not like we were, um, dating or anything."

He leaned back in his chair. "I don't want you to be mad at me -- I do have an ulterior motive with Sylvia. Her dad runs a pretty big law firm in New York. Entertainment law, not nearly as prestigious as Mr. Darcy's corporate law office. But since that didn't work out, I thought I'd try to make a connection a different way. An internship at his law firm practically guarantees acceptance at an Ivy League school."

I was trying to reconcile everything Wick had said to me in the past about the spoiled brats at Pemberley and Longbourn with what he was saying now.

He continued, "I know that I must seem like a hypocrite to you. That's why I didn't want to tell you. But you're still fairly new to the whole rich crowd. Lizzie, you've got to understand that we need to take advantage of our situations when we can. Hang around with them long enough, you start to appreciate it, even as you work to undermine it. There's a big difference between connections and connection. What I have with Sylvia is a matter of connections. What I have with you is a matter of connection. One is vastly more important than the other, and I'm sure you can imagine which it is."

All I could do was nod. I excused myself and went to the back room. I was equal parts hurt, angry, and embarrassed by his revelation. I really liked Wick, and I'd foolishly thought he liked me. Maybe, in a twisted way, he still did. But what really did matter most -- connections or connection? He was the first guy I met here who'd understood me. He liked me for who I was. But was that enough? After all, I didn't have a rich family or fancy job prospects.

He hadn't once mentioned that he liked Sylvia. Did that mean he could still like me? Or that liking had nothing to do with it? Could I truly fault him for taking advantage, when I knew that neither of us would ever be given an advantage?

I looked at my gray coat hanging on the employee coatrack. Colin still refused to admit he bought it for me, so I couldn't have returned it even if I wanted to. But even though I knew that, I wondered: Did keeping the coat mean that I was taking advantage of my situation? Did I feel the same way about Charlotte going to the prom with Colin that I did about Wick and Sylvia?