Chapter 1

Some original dialogue.

Lizzy's eyes automatically squinted as the afternoon light sifted through the nearby bay window. The plastic chair she was sitting in was hard and hurt her back. Lizzy stared blankly out the window of Cherchez La Femme, as cars and pedestrians sped by the bakery, frumpy and tucked behind Paris's main stretch. From her seat she keenly observed the scrambling of tourists boarding and descending neon yellow tour buses at a frantic pace.

Exasperated, Lizzy sighed and checked her watch. 8:36 a.m. Jane was now 11 minutes late, and Lizzy's tissue-thin patience was wearing impossibly thin. Tap. tap. Tap. Lizzy's fresh manicure tapped the cardboard rim of her cappuccino. The white paint of the walls peeled from the ceiling down, and Lizzy knew Jane selected this place only for its insured emptiness.

10 more minutes passed, and another quarter of Lizzy's cappuccino disappeared before the bell of the entry way rang, alerting Lizzy of her sister's arrival.

The anticipated blonde floated through the narrow aisle and arrived at Lizzy's table.

"Lizzy, darling! As always, my apologies...Gianna took forever doing my colors." Jane gestured to her perfectly coiffed honey ringlets as she unwrapped her silken head scarf and discarded her tortoise-shell sunglasses onto the dirty window sill.

"Morning Janie. No apology necessary, your tardiness and I have been lovers for quite some time...24 years I believe," Lizzy smirked, standing up and giving her sister's fair cheek a quick peck. Jane swiftly sat down, unloading her duster and Balenciaga tote onto an empty chair.

"So... " Lizzy started.

"So..." Jane picked up, waving over a waiter and clearing her throat. "You'll be the first to hear of this - I have yet to tell even Karlie. " Jane paused and rattled off a pastry order to the idling waiter. "But," Jane began again, drawing out the word, "Charles proposed last night. Completely out of the blue. After the Chanel show." A slight blush slowly painted Jane's cheeks as she cast her eyes downward, awaiting Lizzy's reaction.

"Wow." Lizzy blinked. She sat back in her chair, paying no heed to the scratchy wicker splinters digging into her spine.

"Wow...good? Wow, bad?" Jane's aegean-blue eyes widened slightly, anxious for LIzzie's response.

"Wow, unexpected. But not bad. Definitely not bad," Lizzy replied, giving her sister a soft smile.

"Good. Oh, thank you," Jane ripped her eyes away from her sister's, and looked up at the hovering plate of croissants she had ordered. The waiter, who had not been previously paying attention, finally took in Jane's face. The boy's wispy beard and lanky limbs hinted at new post-pubescence, but his stance grew 10 years with the recognition of Jane.

Lizzy looked down at her empty cup and picked at a fingernail. She was used to the reaction often prompted by Jane's beauty - attraction tangible enough to land three Vogue covers and an envying model career. With gravity-defying cheekbones and a slim figure, Jane Bennet was a classic beauty… Lagerfeld's 'girl next door'. Charles was equally handsome, a tall doctor from San Francisco, a hometown he shared with Lizzy herself. And while Lizzy was very much fond of Charles, she was never sure of the stability of the pair''s relationship. Jane was constantly flying about, meeting with other equally beautiful people and spending loads of money. Charles had a practice in San Francisco - just a block away from Lizzy's office - and rarely had the opportunity to leave his post. Their rendezvous were brief, but passionate, and Lizzy had yet to notice any semblance of domestic normalcy between the two.

Today Jane was in Paris, and she had flown Lizzy over here with little notice and considerable secrecy. Lizzy seldom left San Francisco, as her cases were time-consuming and emotionally draining, so this meeting seemed superfluous and exorbitant. Yet, Lizzy was used to Jane's affinity for drama and innocent excitement.

"When do you fly back?" Jane asked, the sugar of her splenda packet spilling into her coffee coaxing Lizzy out of her musings. "I know you must have a shit load of work on your plate."

Lizzy sighed, flipping over her phone and clicking the home button as casually as scratching an itch. "My flight leaves tomorrow. The Crawley case is a headache and Collins is on my ass 24/7. It was nice to get away, but I'm anxious to return." Lizzy gave her sister's hand a pat and peered out the ivy-framed window.

"Tomorrow? Perfect! You can come with me to the W publishing soiree tonight. Charles will be there, and so will be his best man… and assuming you agree to be my maid of honor, it would be the perfect place for you two to meet." Jane's eyes met Lizzy's expectantly.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know...Maid of Honor...domesticity. I fear I'm a cliche!" Jane scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Quite contrary, Jane dear, I would love to be your maid of honor. Let it be known however, that I leave all effeminate duties to whatever poor victim you've hired to be your wedding planner," Lizzy replied, giggling a little at her own apathy.

Jane grunted, piling her belongings together for departure. "Really Lizzy, when will you overcome this chronic ennui? It's becoming quite blase, don't you think?"

Lizzy kissed her cheek and floated to the door, "See you tonight, Janie. Try not to look too spectacular, you're engaged and as you know, I am a serial hermit!" She floated out the door, shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, turning around to see her sister jump in a black car, cell phone in hand.

Lizzy never dressed up. Outside of her business attire, she wore pajamas and yoga pants exclusively. Yet, here she was, three hours later, standing before the floor-length mirror in her room at the Hotel Plaza Athenee, contemplating dress selection between three lowly, disappointing contestants sent over by Jane's assistant. Two minutes later she decided on a recent release: an Elizabeth & James floor-length number with tiered ruffles cascading down the front. The marigold chiffon complimented her olive skin well, and her dark toffee curls, frizz-free after hours of primping, were pinned up so that a few strays climbed their way down her bare back. Slipping her feet into frighteningly-high Louboutins and swiping a fresh sheet of pink-nude gloss onto her full lips, Elizabeth settled with her appearance and headed for the lobby.

She took the elevator alone, as was the same manner in which she crossed the lobby and entered her taxi. Lizzy didn't mind solitude, yet there was something so patronizing about dressing up and painting her face for a night with no guarantees. She spent the taxi ride picking at nonexistent threads on her dress, failing to notice the glittering sights that marked the intrinsity of Paris. The car ride was short, and the butterflies in Lizzy's stomach blossomed into barking dogs in less than five minutes. She paid the driver and exited the car. The sighs of her anticipation disappearing into the niche of lights and laughter before her.

Inside the Louvre, Jane schmoozed a Pinot Grigio and made small talk with Charles' sister, Caroline.

"Caro, dearest, I'm afraid I must speak with Charles! Miranda just paged about a problem with the caterer. Can we continue this later?" Jane simpered, flashing Caroline a totally toothy, totally fake grin.

Caroline, taken aback by Jane's sudden comment in the midst of her own eternal soliloquy, nodded and headed for the bar.

Jane slinked away, eager to find the easy conversation of Charles. She glanced around the room at famous faces with sharp features and cavernous eyes before zeroing in on Charles standing next to a taller, dark headed man. She squinted. So this was the mysterious Darcy. Jane stalked across the room, promptly tapping Charles on the shoulder. He turned around immediately, his cerulean eyes lighting up at her arrival.

Janie wrapped her lithe form around her fiance and pressed a full kiss to his unsuspecting lips. She dropped her arm and admired Charles's boyish looks - lanky, with a mop of blonde curls and a toned chest tamed beneath tonight's navy three-piece.

"Jane! Have you had something to eat?" Charles shot back at an uneven speed, blushing slightly from her open affection.

She gigggled.

Charles stepped closer to whisper. "You look absolutely ravishing tonight, darling." Now it was Jane's turn to blush, all the way from her chiseled cheeks to the cleavage bared by the deep V of her black Versace dress. She ran a hand through her flat-ironed hair and patted down the velvet of the dress's skirt.

Charles stepped back again, and suddenly remembering his conversation, gestured back to the dark hair gentleman on his left. "Ah, Jane...this is my best mate, Will Darcy. Darcy this is my fiancee, Jane."

Jane gave the man a once over, and met his harrowing stare with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, I can't tell you how glad I am to have finally met the legendary Mr. Darcy," she lilted, tilting her head to give his looks the vantage point they deserved.

"And you as well, Ms. Bennet," Mr. Darcy replied, in a broad sweeping voice. "I fear I would not have the pleasure of attending such a party as this had it not been for your persistence."

Jane bit the inside of her cheek. She looked around. The private room of the Louvre rented by W was fashionably exclusive in a small, cramped way. The chandeliers above were darkly lit, and the pianist in the corner played some mockery of blues, switching between folk and classical jazz. Jane supposed Darcy had a point - the whole affair was rather silly, yet his inclination to condescend others was rather insulting to her own livelihood.

Charles chuckled uneasily, saying, " C'mon Darce, enjoy yourself! You barely leave the office, and they must have scotch around here somewhere…" Charles's obvious attempts to appease Jane's wounded ego and Darcy's irritation were poorly masked. Both Darcy and Jane failed at hiding their chagrin.

"Anyways... Jane," Charles continued, "isn't Lizzy supposed to be here?"

Jane suddenly snapped to life. "Oh, you're right! I totally forgot… gosh, it's almost 11 where could she be?" Stretching her neck around, Jane tried in vain to find her sister through the crowd of black and metallic cocktail dresses.

"Lizzy is Jane's sister, and her maid of honor," Charles elaborated to Will Darcy.

"Ah." Darcy replied, taking a swift sip of his Chardonnay.

Five more minutes passed in uncomfortable silence with a mere two attempts by Charles to begin conversation. Jane stared mutely into her empty glass, as did Mr. Darcy, the soft music wafting through the air, intermittently interrupted by the poison of conversation.

"Well, this is quite the party, is it not?" a husky voice quipped.

Jane spun around. "Lizzy! Oh, honey, you look gorgeous!" she rejoiced, relieved at the antidote to the halting conversation. Lizzy really was stunning, and more so than usual today. "Charles, you remember Lizzy." Jane began, gesturing between her sister and her fiance.

"Yes, doll, of course. Lizzy, lovely to see you as always." Charles answered, flashing his dimples and kissing Lizzy's cheek.

"Nice to see you as well Charlie...glad to see Jane is treating you so well," Lizzy returned, not at all oblivious to the tense silence shared between the three before she arrived. Charles beamed.

Lizzy then took in the dark haired man standing opposite her. He was breathtaking, no doubt about it, and even with his dark eyes trained on her exposed chest, Lizzy was taken aback by the deepness of his coffee-colored irises. She cleared her throat, and when his head snapped up, her wry smile was delivered a second too late, on account of her astonishment...this was Adonis in the flesh. A good half a foot taller than Lizzy herself, this man was all chiseled features and brooding glances under fantastically thick tresses of inky curls.

"Yes, this is William Darcy, my best man, and the chattiest floozy I've yet to meet," Charles cracked, winking at a now disgruntled Mr. Darcy.

"Well, what an introduction, I hope it does you justice William," Lizzy teased, hoping to provoke the furrowed brow of her target.

"Darcy. Or Mr. Darcy, if you please," the sulking man grunted. LIzzy's brows raised. She took a large gulp of the sharp Pinot, trying to hide her giggles behind the expensive wine. Darcy. Mr. Darcy. What a pompous ass. A gorgeous ass albeit, but a pompous one. As Lizzy stared down her now object of intrigue, and he himself returned the stare, Jane and Charles made their excuses and headed for the dance floor.

"So… Mr. Darcy," Lizzy commenced, "do you dance?"

"Not if I can help it," was the terse reply.

"Right, well...take care Will."

Darcy's head revolved at the unfamiliar sound of his first name, only to see Lizzy's fabulously round backside slipping away in the very flattering yellow frock. He clenched and unclenched his empty fist, backing to the tall cocktail table residing next to the wall. Over the next half hour, girls of all means and objectives, either innocent or malicious, approached him with the same intent. And one after one, Darcy shot them down with no excuse and no mercy. His remorse was not easily earned - he knew the attendees of this tacky excuse for a party were after him for nothing more than a good lay and a story. Lizzy Bennet included.

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