It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of large fortune and member of one of the most famous music groups must be dating every person with whom they are photographed. It was this assumption that led Francine Bennet, publicist to the foremost up and coming girl group (according to a recent magazine article), to be slamming her hands in frustration upon her husband's desk. Edward Bennet, in addition to being married to the woman, happened to also be manager to Long Burn - the previously mentioned girl band.

"Edward Bennet!" Francine demanded, while her hand once again came down to abuse his desk. "Do you not understand the importance of this occasion?" The pencils rattled in their cup, and one of his books scooted closer to the edge with each assault of his workspace.

"Regardless of whether I do, I am confident you will explain it to me anyways," the man replied, reaching out to pull his book back from its perilous place on the edge of the desk.

"My sources have told me that Netherfield is in LA for the duration of their hiatus," Francine continued, ignoring her husband as well as the fate of his desk. "So you must call and find out if Light Magazine has extended an invitation to them for Friday night, and make them correct it if they haven't!" She finally sat down in the chair opposite his desk, and her abuse of his office space was reduced to her fingers jackhammering his desk's surface and her heels drumming his floor as impressively as even Lydia could manage.

"Why should it matter to me whether they attend," Edward asked, not looking up from the mail he he was sorting on his desk, six inches from where his wife was anxiously drumming her fingers. "I am not their manager, so surely it is no concern of mine."

"Do not be obtuse," she huffed. "Surely you understand why we must get one of them photographed with our girls. Jane, at least. She can't be that beautiful for nothing. Lydia might be young, but she at least knows how to own a magazine cover-"

"Tabloids, you mean," Edward Bennet interjected, finding the envelope he was looking for.

"- and I am sure," Francine half hissed, "that you can grasp how momentous this would be for the album. While it might not be your job to manage Netherfield, it is my job to make sure the world has at least heard of Long Burn before their album drops."

"I should rather believe that our girl's talents and quality of music should speak for themselves. Besides, if it matters so much, why can you not look into it?"

"Because as you very well know you are the one whose golf partner's wife is the event planner, Edward," she fumed. "Not me."
"And if it is so very important for the girls' future, I am fully confident that she will have taken it into consideration and my phone call will be unnecessary."

Francine slammed her hands one last time on her husband's desk before turning and pacing the course of his office. "If you do not call and ensure they are attending," Francine stormed, emphasizing her words with a finger jabbed in Edward's direction, "and they turn out not to be attending and Long Burn's album fails when it releases next month, it will be your fault that our girl's musical future will be thrown out on the street and into the hedgerows."

While his wife continued to pace up and down the room, Edward Bennet slit open the envelope from Light magazine that contained his honorary copy of the October edition. "In all of my years, I have never seen any manager care so little for such a hard working and talented group," she raged, while her husband examined the cover. It was successful in capturing the personalities of the group, he considered, while his wife carried on unabated. "Only a little effort - nothing more than a phone call! - could secure the future of some of the most hard working and goodhearted musicians we have worked with!" They were lucky to have landed a page in Light magazine at all, new as they were, let alone the cover. "I hope you will take comfort, Edward Bennet, that you spared yourself the trouble of a two minute phone call," Francine's waving hands smacked (possibly by accident) Edward's rescued book from his desk and sent it tumbling to the floor along with his pencils, "when Long Burn's first and only album fails, and it is all your fault."

Jane, the lead singer of the group, was an angel in her white dress and honey blond hair. She was looking over at the girl next to her, red lips parted in the most perfect smile. Her gaze was directed towards her bandmate and lead guitarist, Lizzie. While Lizzie wore a similar dress, there the comparison ended. Her dark hair, dark eyes, and dark leather jacket staked her presence - she was grinning as well, but hers was the sort of smile that made you think there was some grand joke you were not in on. Mary, the keyboardist, almost blended into the background as she usually did, with her arms crossed and that contemplative look in her eyes. Kitty, their bass, was giggling with her sister, Lydia's, arms thrown around her neck. Their drummer Lydia, waist deep in mischief as usual, was attempting to throw herself onto her sister's back with her blond curls wild in the air.
Francine was still carrying on when the hesitant knock came from his closed office door. "Come in," he called over his wife's ranting.
Jess Hill, his secretary, peered through the door -likely wary of any flying objects. "Sir, the Long Burn girls are here for their 2 o'clock meeting."

"Good!" Francine declared, hands in the air. "They might as well hear how you are throwing their future away."

Jane was the first to step into the office, and Francine's harsh gaze softened in direct correlation with her favorite's entry into the room. Lizzie and the others followed (wisely) after the lead singer. "What is this about throwing our future's away?" Lizzie asked as she slid into the chair abandoned by Francine. The other girls claimed their places on the arm chairs filling the room.

"Your manager, knowing very well how important this could be, refuses to ensure that Netherfield will be in attendance on Friday night so you can be photographed with them," Francine's righteous fury made it impossible to so much as look at her husband.
"Francine," Jane spoke gently while Lydia and Kitty excitedly began making their own plea to their manager. "You know we stipulated that we did not want to be part of any publicity stunts."

Francine waved her concerns away. "It wouldn't be a publicity stunt," she assured her. "If they were to attend and you were to be introduced to them, naturally photos would be taken with or without us. The natural progression of the public and those photos would have nothing to do with us."

"Of course, Jane," Lizzie said brightly, taking the girl's hand. "We have no need for stunting as long as we plan everything we do and make sure it is public."

"Exactly, dear," Francine agreed distractedly, not reading the girl's sarcasm.

"Oh please, Ed, please," Kitty begged.

"Oh, God, if I could meet Charlie Bingley I think I would just die," Lydia moaned.

"Fine," Francine bemoaned their fate. "If you will not call to ensure their invitation on Friday, I hope I never have to see anything of Netherfield again - I simply cannot take it anymore."

"That is unfortunate," Edward Bennet noted as he flipped through the article. "Hill emailed me this morning. Light confirmed that Netherfield would be in attendance. I suppose it might be rude to avoid an introduction now, but I am sure I would understand if you felt that slight necessary."