Author's Note: Yes, I know it's been more than two weeks, but these past few weeks have been hectic. I have been interviewing for medical school next fall and had to be out of town for three days. I also started tutoring on Saturdays which takes up a large portion of my writing time. This chapter and the next chapter were supposed to be all one chapter, but I thought it would be better to publish something now rather than wait another week to have the whole thing done. Be on the lookout next week for another chapter. Also, I promise Darcy and Nia will meet very soon.

Also, I made a slight change in chapter one and two. The story takes place in October now instead of September and Darcy is planning on taking pictures on Saturday not Wednesday.

Dizzy Lizzy.60: So, Fitzwilliam Darcy is Michael Darcy in this story, but I threw in a would be brother named William. Also, definitely going to use your list of hits in the 80's.

Thank you everyone for the suggestions and kind words. They mean a lot to me.

Stay Happy, Stay Golden

MICHAEL

"Now that Sophia is getting a divorce. You two could maybe…" My mother trails off as she raises her eyebrows and gives me a sly smile. She hovers over me as I adjust the aperture of my trusty Canon F-1 and motion the model to move more to his right. If it was anybody else, I would insist on them moving away from me so that I can concentrate, but one does not tell Mrs. Evelyn Elaine Darcy neé Richardson to move – definitely not at her own photo shoot.

Ignoring the sensation of ants crawling all over my skin brought on by the hovering, I look at the model through my camera lens. Bits of pine needles are strategically clinging to his jacket and hair. The whir of the snow fan provides soft ambient background noise amidst the commotion on set. My mother's usual photographer called in sick suddenly yesterday, so I volunteered to take the photos for today's shoot. The area had already been scouted and set up the day before, so all I have to do is find the right angles and snap the photos. We have been out here for three hours, but it seems more like five minutes to me. Photography has that effect on me. This is the last individual shot. A few more group shots and we will be done for the day. To fit with the January/February magazine theme of winter wonderland, we are surrounded by evergreens. It's only a little chilly, but the model is bundled up in a heavy winter coat and snow boots. The makeup girl keeps having to wipe away the sweat forming on his face. I zoom in a little and snap a few pictures. Click. Click. Click.

"Mother, our deal, remember?"

My mother lightly swats at my shoulder as I walk around to take another picture at a different angle. Click. "Pish-posh. I am your mother, normal deal making rules do not apply to me."

I check the shot in the camera's viewfinder and then bend down in the grass to get a better angle. I move closer to the model, so I can zoom in on the details of his face, scarf, and hat. Although the coat is the main focus, it's rather ugly, so I want to focus on other aspects of the outfit – give my mom and her team some options when choosing the final prints. Hopefully, they will decide to make the scarf or hat the focal piece instead. "Fine, then I won't tell you about the new development in my love life." Click. Click.

I can hear the giddiness spilling over in my mother's voice as she exclaims, "As if you could keep anything from me. Tell me, what's happened? Did you ask Sophia out for dinner? Offer a shoulder to cry on that could become a little more. Or is it a new girl?" I smile and lower the camera signaling to the model and prep team that I'm ready for the next group. "Michael Darcy, tell me this instant!"

I walk away leaving my mother intrigued and confused. I point to a waiflike blonde woman with thick eyebrows and thin lips. "Can you tilt your chin further up… yeah, just like that. And you…" I point to a brunette with a long face and big, green eyes, "Can you angle your face more to your right. Yep, perfect." Click. Click. Click. I whisper to my mother, "I'll tell you after the shoot. I'm trying to work here."

Charlie and I met up last night, and he offered me an interesting proposition. I told him about my plans to expand the Pemberley Production company into different movie genres and he was all for it. He promises to star in all of the movies he can and to heavily promote the movies he can't be in. In return, he wants me to take his sister Caroline out on a date. I had to think long and hard before finally giving Charlie my answer. I have only met Caroline a handful of times while we were all growing up. Although she and Charlie are siblings, they could not be more unlike. Where Charlie is all smiles and too trusting, Caroline is calculated moves and skepticism. With the other women in our circle, Caroline is snooty and cold. She only ever talks to one other woman, a Ms. Olivia Preston who recently married and is now Mrs. Hurst. Like most upper-class women in our town, Caroline is overly concerned with marrying well. Wanting nothing less than what she considers the best, she has set her eyes on me. I am constantly trying to dodge her advances and swerve her attentions. Caroline is like a crocodile. When she sees someone that she wants, she quickly snaps onto him and does not let go. After all of these years of successfully avoiding being conned into a relationship with her, I am about to willingly put myself in the position to be tied down all for the sake of my company. Oh Pemberley, the lengths I will go for you.

"Caroline Caroline? Charlie's sister, Caroline?" My mother looks up at me perplexed. "But I thought you found her annoying. What happened?"

I pack up the last of my lighting equipment before focusing on my mother. "Call it a change of heart. Aren't you always saying to give people a chance before I judge?" The whole notion of dating Caroline as a favor to her brother doesn't seem entirely right. I don't want my mother thinking less of me for using someone so maliciously even if said person has done nothing to warrant kind behavior.

My mother looks into my eyes searching for something. When she can't seem to find it, she replies, "Well, darling, enjoy yourself tonight. Tell me all about it tomorrow. The season 3 premiere of Dynasty is on tonight. I must know what will happen to poor Cecil after his heart attack and of course little Blake."

I have no idea who these people are, but I give my mother an understanding nod and reply, "Of course. Poor Cecil and little Blake, of course."

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Six rapid knocks on the oak wood front door ring out like an alarm. KnockKnockKnockKnockKnockKnock. Silence, and then three heavy-handed bangs, more drawn out but just as urgent. Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Coming!" I yell, pulling on the ends of my bowtie so it sits straight under my collar. I take the steps two at a time and glance at myself in the hall mirror before I go to the door. My hair is still damp but everything else seems to be in order. I need to leave soon if I want to pick Caroline up in time, so hopefully whoever is at the door can come back tomorrow.

I fling open the door to reveal…

"Sophia? I was just heading out… is everything alright?"

"I had the most perfect idea for your next movie. Wait, why are you so dressed up?" Sophia takes a moment to glance over my dress slacks, slightly gelled hair, and neatly tied bowtie. "Oh my gosh, Michael! I completely forgot about your date tonight. Are you excited?"

I let out a deep sigh and roll my eyes, "You mean Charlie's way of punishing me. Yeah, I'm jumping for joy."

"Michael! Stop! Don't be rude. Caroline is a nice girl. You could be doing a lot worse than her." Sophia takes a step away from the house. "My idea can wait. You have other things to worry about tonight. You can't leave poor Caroline sitting by her door waiting for you to show up."

"I'll call her and cancel," I state insouciantly. "I'll tell her that something important came up," I say turning back into the house to ring Caroline.

"No, Michael. Don't use me as an excuse to miss your date. I can't let you do that to her. She was telling me how excited she is to finally be going out with you. Please, don't cancel on her." Sophia shakes her head and zones out for a moment. "I shouldn't have come. I'm always screwing things up for you."

Her statement throws me off guard, and before I can respond with a "You don't screw things up for me." Sophia quickly declares, "Michael Darcy, you will take Caroline out to dinner tonight. You will be engaging and charming and forget that I came here tonight. If Caroline says that you were anything but a perfect gentleman, then I will never talk to you again. Understood?"

"No, I –"

"I phrased it as a question, but it wasn't a suggestion. You're going on this date and that's final. No if, ands, or buts. I will see you tomorrow." With her piece said, Sophia ran back to her car and sped away from me before I could utter another word.

I wish I could just cancel. I am neither charming nor engaging. But I know Sophia, and she definitely meant what she said about not talking to me again if I am anything less than her definition of a gentleman to Caroline tonight. I have no choice but to see this thing through. I glance at my watch. I now have fifteen minutes to pick Caroline up. I most definitely will be late. Excellent way to start the evening.

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Charlie and Caroline still live in their family home. Not much has changed since childhood except the master bedroom remains locked and that part of the house has collected dust. The photos with Mr. and Mrs. Martin have been regulated to a single corner of the house. A lone family photo hangs in Caroline's room tucked away almost behind her bed. I saw it once when she tried to trap me in her room under the pretense that there was a cockroach under her bed that she was too scared to kill. Charlie has no pictures of either of his parents hanging in his room – he doesn't deal with grief well. We've only ever had a handful of conversations in regard to his parent's death. Thinking about their death makes him sad, and Charlie hates feeling sad.

When I pull up to 256 Netherfield, Caroline is waiting in front of the door tapping her high-heeled foot. She is wearing a light pink dress, that I guess is fashionable these days and is bundled up in a fur coat. The bitter winds are blowing harder than usual today. Caroline has her hair in curls similar to the way my mother wears her hair, and her lips are a bright, cherry red. The worry shadowing her face immediately clears when she sees me pull up to her driveway and walk over to meet her on the front steps. Despite her cold exterior and clinginess in regard to me Caroline really is stunning. Once she gives up on the silly notion of she and I ever being in any sort of relationship, the suitors will be knocking down her door for a chance to woo her.

"Hi Michael," She leans over and envelopes me in a hug. My arms remain limply at my side, uncomfortable with the physical touch. Then I remember Sophia's words, and I bring my arms up to awkwardly pat her lower back. "I was so worried something had happened to you."

"No, nothing," I replied trying to remain casual. "Should we get going?"

Caroline looks away demurely, "Oh, I thought you might want a tour of the house. It's been so long since you last saw it. I redecorated the parlor and –"

"No, I'm fine."

"Oh, um," flustered Caroline tries again, "How about a glass of water? I'm parched." She smiles coyly and places a hand on my arm to lead me in, but I deftly sidestep her.

"I'm good." I reply curtly annoyed with whatever she is attempting. "We should get going soon if we want to make our reservation time. I'll wait out here while you get your glass."

"Oh, but you know the owner of Corleone's. Can't you come whenever you want, reservation or no reservation?"

"Yes, but I told them we would be there at 7:30, so I don't want to inconvenience them if they planned around that time." This was mostly true. I did tell them that we would be there around 7:30, but there is no way that our arriving later would be an inconvenience since they reserve a special table specifically for my family.

Caroline looks at me with a face of defeat before quickly plastering on a smile. "That's alright, I'll drink something when we get to the restaurant." She quickly loops her arm through mine. "It's not far from here, right Michael?" She looks up at me waiting for a response as she walks us both to my car. Her heels click on the pavement as she walks, and I am dragged along. Again with the unsolicited touching.

"Yeah," I mumble happy to finally be moving this thing along. I open the passenger door of my red BMW M1 for her and then jog around to the driver's side. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Caroline pull out a compact mirror and check her nose in it before I unlock the driver's side door and slide into my seat.

The drive to the restaurant is relatively painless. Caroline keeps up a steady stream of small-talk requiring minimal in the way of responses freeing me up to go over my mental checklist for tomorrow. Meeting with the head executive producer to discuss the timeline for our upcoming romantic comedy. Develop pictures from mother's photo shoot. Visit tailor for a new suit jacket.

"You haven't said much since we started driving. Is everything alright, Michael?" Caroline places a hand on my shoulder, and I resist the urge to flinch away. Her voice is filled with worry, and for a moment I wonder if she is asking out of genuine concern.

"Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind."

Caroline is quiet for a moment before glancing over at me. "Then let's just enjoy the rest of the ride." She doesn't say it with sarcasm. True to her word, the rest of the car ride is driven in comfortable silence.

The plan for tonight is to get dinner at Corleone's and then head over to Club 52 to meet up with Charlie. I am planning on dropping Caroline off with Charlie and then heading home. This way I can avoid the whole awkward walk to front door and the to kiss or not to kiss bullshit. Once we meet up with Charlie, I'll suddenly develop a nasty stomachache and head for the door to avoid vomiting on anyone. I will move quickly so that Caroline does not have a chance to follow me out or worry over me. Charlie already knows that we are showing up and already agreed to take Caroline home if I was too fed up to drop her off at home myself.

"Signore Michael. Ah, we have missed you, sir. You must come see your friends more often."

We arrive at the restaurant and the owner, Signore Michael Corleone Sr. himself, shows us to our private table in the back. The table is set up with all of the trimmings. Two candles in short glasses flicker in the middle of the table surrounded by red rose petals. Between the candles in all of its ostentatious glory sits a gaudy display of pink carnations and roses flowing over the clear glass filled almost to the top with water. Specks of dirt and tiny pieces of fallen leaves float in the otherwise clear liquid.

"Wow, Michael. This place setting is beautiful. So romantic."

"You are Mr. Michael's lady friend, no. You are on, how you say, a date." Signore Corleone reaches out for Caroline's hand to, I presume, kiss it in greeting. Caroline swiftly moved her hand behind her back and steps back slightly. Besides a slight stumble, Signore Corleone does not seem too thrown off by the slight. Even though his face does not convey anger, I know that he feels belittled by Caroline's rejection of his friendly gesture.

"Caroline" she breezily replies in lieu of a hand kiss. She then walks to her seat and expectantly waits for me to pull out her chair. I look at Signore Corleone expressing an apology with my eyes before going to assist Caroline. Signore Corleone murmurs something about bringing out a bottle of wine before disappearing through the kitchen double doors. I take my seat across from Caroline. Before I can reprimand her for her rudeness, she immediately pulls her chair closer to mine, puts a hand on my forearm, and begins to extol the virtues of this "charming" little spot. Her use of the words quaint and cute come across more like sarcastic insults than boundless praise. Yes, this is not the fanciest restaurant in town, but the food is beyond amazing, and I can always assure that I will have a secluded table and the finest service. I should have known that a girl like Caroline would not be satisfied with anything less than a 5-star restaurant buzzing with society elites and maybe a camera or two.

Caroline orders an appetizer for us both to share and then insists on ordering the same main course as I do – the penne pasta Bolognese. She plays around with both dishes and takes no more than three dainty bites from each. Every time she swallows, she takes a sip of wine and wipes the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin in her lap. She carries most of the conversation which does not leave her much time to enjoy her food, but even still it is unnerving how methodically she eats.

After our main course is cleared away, Caroline orders a bowl of fruit and chocolate for dessert even though she claimed to be too full to eat another bite after the third forkful of her main course.

"Michael, you simply must try this berry. It's absolutely divine." Caroline pushes the fork towards my mouth in the hopes that I will open up. I scrunch up my face and pull back. This is worse than the unsolicited touching.

"Thank you, Caroline but I'm fine. I promise."

"Oh, but Michael I simply cannot eat all of this fruit and chocolate by myself. You must help me. At least try the chocolate."

I let out a heavy sigh before picking up a piece of chocolate with my fork, popping it into my mouth, and chewing it aggressively. It is amazing chocolate. Very smooth and rich with a spicy kick. Seeing the look of appreciation coloring my face, Caroline pushes another piece of chocolate towards me.

"Amazing, right?" I pluck the chocolate off of her fork and pop it into my mouth. I am still not comfortable enough to allow her to feed me, but I don't want to let such an amazing delicacy go to waste.

Caroline leans towards me picking up fruit and chocolate and pushing it towards my mouth. I don't let her feed me, but I pick off the pieces she puts in front of me. Caroline continues to express her appreciation for the fresh, juicy fruit and the mouth-watering chocolate but apart from her two bites in the beginning, I finish the dessert myself.

Once the bowl is empty, I signal the waiter for the check and pay for the meal. Signore Corleone gives us a wave goodbye as we exit, but the reserved wave seems foreign from a man who usually says goodbye by giving me a hearty slap on the back and telling me to stop being such a stranger. Caroline does not even acknowledge the wave as she makes her way back to my car and we take off for Club 52.

When I enter the club, my senses are immediately assaulted. Bright, flashing lights almost blind me, the thumping bass splits my eardrums, and the smell of alcohol threatens to send me into a bout of nausea. I want to be sick. I need to find Charlie, drop of Caroline, and high-tail it back home. I turn to Caroline and see that her nose is upturned in disgust. Tonight, Club 52 despite its reputation as a high-class club is a far cry from the dignified dinners and fancy functions our people usually attend.

"Why is everyone here so… common? Ugh. They usually have standards for who they let in."

I nod in agreement. I have been to Club 52 a few times with Charlie, and it is usually a lot more dignified. We usually sit in a booth towards the back and drink scotch. The music selection varies but is never this loud. There is always a crowd of people but never so many that one feels caged in. Right now, I can't go two steps without bumping into someone or something. "Let's just find Charlie," I yell over the ear-splitting music.

Couples gyrate on the floor. Girls sway on too high heels and guys with greasy, slicked back hair chat up women way out of their leagues. The floor is wet with spilt liquor and bodies are haphazardly slumped over chairs and tables.

"Charlie!" I yell out. I have finally spotted him. I grab Caroline's arm and drag her to the spot at the bar where her brother stands swirling a rum and coke and talking up a redhead. He turns to look at me, startled by the interruption. When he sees me, his whole face lights up. He excuses himself from the redhead and comes bounding over to me, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug and laughing joyously. He is most definitely drunk.

"Darce! I've missed you. I'm so glad you're here. There are so many pretty girls."

Caroline scoffs in disbelief as her brother starts to pull me away completely ignoring her.

"Oh sorry, Caroline. I forgot you both are on a date." Charlie makes air quotes with his fingers when he says date and rolls his eyes.

"What's that supposed mean, Charlie? Michael asked me out on his own free will."

"No, he didn't," Charlie chuckles and points a finger at Caroline, "He asked you out because I told him too, duh."

For a moment Caroline looks completely bewildered and even a little hurt. She quickly covers it up and replies, "Well, it doesn't matter why he did. We had an amazing time, and we are going out again next week." Caroline looks to me for confirmation, but I stare back at her confused.

"When did we make plans to meet up again?"

"Well," Caroline begins, her confidence faltering, "I just thought since we had such a great time you would want to ask me out again. We did have a great time, right?"

Charlie looks at me expectantly eyebrows raised. I know he doesn't mean to cause any trouble or hurt anybody's feelings, but Damn you, Charlie for being such a careless drunk.

"Caroline, I… tonight was…"

Caroline continues to look at me expectantly, hoping that I will acquiesce and agree to a second date next week. The end of the evening was enjoyable, but the beginning was barely tolerable. Caroline is extremely self-centered and calculating. I don't know if I can stomach another date, and I definitely don't want to give the impression that this can become anything more.

I freeze unsure of how to proceed. The silence that follows is even more palpable amidst the loud music and merriment occurring in the background. I feel like a deer caught in headlights with nowhere to hide.

"The strawberries and chocolate we had were delicious."

Caroline scoffs again clearly offended by my lack of affection for her or our time together. "I'm going to call a taxi and go home. Goodnight, Michael." And before I can amend my statement or butcher an apology, Caroline turns on her pink heels and walks out the club doors. I turn to follow her so that I can offer her a ride home, but Charlie reaches out and grabs my arm.

"Oh shit, Darce I'm sorry. I have no filter when I've had too much to drink. Can you apologize to her for me? I didn't think about what I was saying."

"Of course, Charlie," I grimace already dreading the tension filled car ride I was about to endure all because drunk Charlie does not think before he speaks.

"Thankssss buddy. You're the bess friend in the world. I would go myself this very instance, but there are so many beautiful girls here tonight. The rules are a lot more laid back on Wednesday nights so girls who usually don't come are here. Such a refresher from the usually snobby crowd." He meant to say girls who usually aren't allowed in.

The more lax standard explains the low-class crowd that showed up tonight. I look around at the other clubgoers with my nose scrunched up. "There is nothing refreshing about desperate, sweaty masses of people." I turn away from Charles and head towards the exit hoping that Caroline's cab has not arrived yet.

"Not true," Charlie quipped, "I've met loads of amazing women the Wednesdays I've been here. Really talented women too." Charlie pulls on my arm again. "If you remove the stick from your ass, you might find a girl here that can stomach being in a relationship with you."

"No, Charlie, I doubt that. All of these women are a bunch of gold diggers with no class." Now Charlie is starting to approach touchy territory. I always hate when he brings up my lack of relationship expertise and general lack of social skills.

"You can't stand girls like Caroline, but you're too good for normal, common girls. What exactly are you looking for? Who meets your standards? I mean, you're a tough guy to please Mr. Darcy." Charlie says it with an air of good-natured teasing, but my worry for Caroline and my claustrophobia are keeping me from seeing the humor. I am fed up with Charlie and want to simply get home and curl up with company ledgers and letters.

A drunk girl stumbles into me, and I step away from her as she giggles out an apology. Her makeup is smeared, and her dress is raised slightly higher than appropriate. Before she can say something flirty, I step away from her and move closer to Charlie. Another girl reaches out and grabs the sloppy girl keeping her upright. I look away from both of them in disgust. As I shake free of Charlie, I retort, "I don't know why you hang around these disgusting people. They're all just a bunch of whores."

"Darcy!" Charlie's eyes go wide as he looks back to the two girls probably still stumbling towards the bathroom.

I roll my eyes and mutter a whatever as I push away from Charlie to the exit. Those girls are probably too drunk to even realize that I am talking about them.