Author's Note: Here is the complete chapter 11. Now that school is over, I will hopefully be able to get back to posting regularly. Thank you to all of my loyal readers who have stuck with this story, and welcome to all of the new readers. I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. Enjoy!

Stay Happy, Stay Golden!

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Chapter 11: Lizzy

"Okay, Mr. Darcy, what's the first place on your list?" I turn to Darcy waiting expectantly for his reply. When we first met this morning, he gave me the general rundown of his project and listed a few places he hoped to stop by today. He currently stands next to me impeccably dressed. His blue shirt is crisp, and his navy pants are perfectly tailored. He has on a pair of shiny black shoes and his silver watch adorns his right wrist. Even though I still find him intolerable, Mr. Moneybags hasn't given me anything to be mad about… yet.

"I want to start with Mama June's diner. Have you heard of it?"

"Of course! Everybody in this part of town has heard of Mama June's and her buttery pancakes. Mmm. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. I know everybody who works there. They can hook us up with a free side of eggs and bacon with our pancakes."

I watch as Darcy's face scrunches up before he states, "We are not going there for food. I am not paying you to eat, I am paying you to work."

I raise my eyebrows, annoyed by his sharp tone. "Why can't we do both? It'd be more authentic if you got footage of their famous buttermilk pancakes. You could film me while I eat the pancakes and talk to everybody."

He is quiet for a moment.

"You want to get pictures because it was the first diner in Virginia, right?" I ask.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've lived here my entire life," I say trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "I know these stores and shops and diners like the back of my hand. That's why you hired me right?" Before he can reply, I continue, "You can't talk about a diner without showcasing the food." He still doesn't look convinced. "It's a good idea. You don't have to admit it, but you and I both know it's a good idea."

Maybe I'm purposely looking to start a fight, but something in me won't let me back down from this one. I stop in front of him and cross my arms over my chest. He looks at me with a face of stone. I can't read anything behind his steely gaze.

Suddenly he heavily sighs, "Fine. We will order the pancakes, and we will film you eating the pancakes and talking to the workers."

I smile contentedly as we walk the short distance to Mama June's. Before he can pull the door open, I put a hand out to stop him. "Before we go in, I gotta tell you something very important. Don't ask about the fire. That's a testy subject. I can tell you the full story later but bringing that up is the quickest way to have everyone in that diner avoid you."

He looks at me with wide eyes as if just now realizing something. I don't question it. Instead I push the door open and let the smell of frying bacon and melting butter caress my nostrils. I'm not the biggest fan of breakfast, but Mama June's cooking is worth waking up early for. I immediately head to the counter not waiting to see if Darcy is following me.

I see Miles Johnson behind the counter balancing plates up and down his arm. I call out to him, and when he sees me, he gives me a big smile. Miles is Mama June's grandson, and he's been helping her out at the diner ever since he finished high school. I was a year ahead of him in school and remember him being a very quiet but thoughtful guy. As he balances the plates on his arms, I see him mouth, "Just a minute," so I nod and take a seat at the counter. Darcy continues to stand near the cash register and does not take the empty seat next to me.

When Miles returns to the counter, I see Darcy open his mouth to speak. Before he can get a word out, I whisper to him, "Let me do my job." I give Darcy a look to let him know that my statement was not a suggestion. He takes the hint and moves back reluctantly.

I turn to Miles and smile. "Hey Miles, is Mama June in today? Or her daughter?"

"Uh, I'll go check Lizzy."

"Thanks," I chirp as Miles disappears behind the swinging double doors. I turn to Darcy, "I think it's best if you let me do the speaking. After all, that's what you're paying me for."

"I could have handled it," Darcy huffs.

I roll my eyes and turn away from him in lieu of a response.

A few seconds later Miles returns with a smile on his face. "She's in the back. She said to tell you that she can give you twenty minutes!"

"Thanks Miles. When you go back to the kitchen, could you bring me back a plate of pancakes as well?"

"Of course, Lizzy. Eggs and bacon on the side just like you usually get."

"You're amazing." I turn to Mr. Moneybags and smirk. "Come on Darcy, we don't have all day."

We both follow Miles through the kitchen and into the office that sits at the back. When we arrive at the door, Miles tells us to go in when we're ready. Before Darcy can march through the door, I put my hand on his chest to stop him once more. I can tell that he is used to calling the shots and being in charge. But in order for him to get the information he's looking for, he's going to have to defer to my better judgment. I know these places and these people.

"Look, Darcy. This, I'm-the-commander-and-I-will-force-you-to-do-my-will schtick might work up on Pemberley Hill, but it's not gonna work with Mama June, and it won't get you any answers in this part of town. Let me do what I'm good at, the talking. And you do what you're good at, the filming. Otherwise, this arrangement won't work. Okay?"

He looks at me for a minute, and even though his face is stone cold, I can sense that he is waging a pretty intense internal battle behind his guarded eyes. I've got a reputation to uphold. There is no way I am letting him do the talking when we go in. I can already see him saying something extremely offensive and getting me banned from the best diner in town.

His internal war rages on for a few seconds longer before he finally acquiesces and gives me a nod of understanding. I give him a nod in return before pushing open the office door.

"Lizzy Bennet! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mama June," I break out into a huge grin as I reach down to hug the unofficial grandmother of the town, "it's so good to see you. I already asked Miles to bring back a plate of pancakes. I've been craving your buttermilk stack for a while."

Mama June's gray hair is piled high on her head. Bright, colorful costume jewelry hangs from each wrist and around her graceful neck. Her skin is worn from age but still has a luster. Her eyes twinkle with youth not soon forgotten. I hope I look half as good as she does when I reach my 80's.

When we part, she looks to my right and notices Darcy standing in the corner. "And who's your… associate."

I turn quickly to look at Darcy. His arms are crossed in front of him and his facial expression is unreadable. "Oh him? He's a filmmaker. He wants to make sure everyone knows why Mama June's is the best diner in the nation."

"Oh hush, child. You know flattery gets you nowhere with me." Mama June swats at my arm and gives Darcy a once-over. I bite my lip in anticipation. There's a good chance she won't want to talk to him especially with the high and mighty airs he is currently giving off.

"And what's your name, son?"

Darcy clears his throat and extends a hand. "Darcy. William Darcy. I own Pemberley productions."

"Darcy, hmm. I don't hear that name around here very often." Mama June stands and walks to her bookshelf. "Pemberley productions. Ya'll make westerns and the such, right? You know I used to be a performer myself." She holds out a picture framed in gold. Darcy comes to stand by me as we both peer down at the relic. A much younger woman can be seen sitting with a stoic look on her face. "This was my professional picture."

"You haven't aged at all, Mama." Despite what she said earlier, I know for a fact that flattery is the quickest way to get in her good graces, and we're gonna need all of the good grace we can get to keep her talking and to get her to agree to be filmed while she does.

"I used to be a dancer like your sister Mary. Back then there weren't as many opportunities out there for someone like me. I ended up mainly working the local night circuit while I was in showbiz. Wasn't the most decent job, but it kept food on the table."

"Mrs. June, this has all been very… entertaining, but we were told we only have twenty minutes, and there's some questions I'd like to ask you about your diner."

I turn to look at Darcy with wide eyes. Out of the corner of my mouth, I hiss at him, "What did I say about letting me do the talking?"

"No offense Elizabeth, but we are wasting time here. Mrs. June will you agree to answer my questions and allow me to film you or are we wasting our time?"

Mama June looks between the two of us before narrowing her eyes. "I'm tired, so I won't have time today. Tell Miles to pack your food for the road. Don't be a stranger, Lizzy Bennet."

I give Mama June a nod and a smile and pull Darcy out of the office before he can make things worse. I grab a to-go box from Miles and say a quick goodbye. I ignore Darcy's complaining and fussing until we are both out of the door and back onto the street.

Away from all of the patrons enjoying their breakfast, I don't hold back my anger, "We were doing so well! Why did you have to talk and mess everything up? We agreed to let me do the talking. You couldn't stand not being in charge for half an hour and look where it got us. Back on the streets with no progress. Zero. Zilch."

"How is this my fault?" he spits out. "You were getting absolutely nowhere with her. We didn't come to learn about her time as a performer. We came to learn about the history of the restaurant."

"Her time as a performer is integral to the history of the restaurant," I quietly yell back. "Everything about her life up until now is the history of the restaurant. Don't you understand?" I take a deep breath and let the air out slowly. "Have you ever interviewed people before? Scratch that. Have you ever talked to someone who doesn't work for you before?"

When he leaves the questions unanswered, I continue on, "You speak to people as if they owe you something. You've gotta be nicer when you're asking for things. Nobody owes you anything."

I start walking in the direction of the car. I don't have a plan or goal, but I cannot stand looking at him and his piercing green eyes anymore.

"For the record, I have talked to people who are not under my employ."

I turn to him surprised to see that he is following behind me.

"My time is precious, and I do not like when it is being wasted."

I stop walking and look up at him. "I don't know how you all usually make your movies, but when you're trying to tell a story about real people, you have to listen to the full story. Every little mundane detail is important for that person's story. You find the treasure in the little details. Does that make sense?"

He shakes his head no. "Not really."

I sigh again. "Well, if you want to do this project right, you're going to have to be okay with wasting time listening to little details. And then your job will be to sift through the little details in order to tell the complete story. That's the only way you're going to get a documentary worth anything." I pause knowing that he won't let like the next part. "Also, I think it will be beneficial to write down the questions beforehand and let me pre-screen them to make sure you aren't going to offend anyone. We don't want a repeat of what just happened with Mama June. Can you do that?"

He takes some time to think over what I've said. I see an internal war being waged behind his eyes again. He looks at me with gritted teeth and scrunched eyebrows. "Fine. We will do it your way."

A slow smile spreads across my face. I have no idea what I would have done if he insisted on doing things his way. I've got a reputation to uphold in this town, but also, I could really use the money. I continue on aimlessly walking in an attempt to find a potential spot to film.

Darcy puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me. "This bookshop used to be a library. It's also on my list."

"Mr. Donovan runs this shop. He'd be the one to talk to. He's usually at the cash register. I'll see if he can spare some time and doesn't mind being filmed. But first…" I lead us to a tall tree before I search my bag and pull out a notepad and pencil that I hand to Darcy. He begrudgingly takes them before leaning against the tree and scribbling out some questions. When he is done he tosses the notebook to me.

"Okay, first two are good intro questions. He's going to mention his father and how his father got the store, but if he doesn't maybe prompt him by asking him to talk about the previous owner." I continue reading through the list of questions nodding with approval until I reach the seventh question. "Don't ask how much the store makes."

"But I want –"

"It's inappropriate. I'm crossing it off, and I will pull you out of the store if you ask it." I quickly glance over the remaining questions. Satisfied, I hand the notebook back and give him a nod. "This list is Lizzy Bennet approved. We are good to go in."

"I still do not understand why I cannot ask about the logistics of the business. It is important to get a clear understanding of all of the moving parts."

"You agreed to do things my way, so stop complaining. It looks like he's in, so come on."

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Like a street lamppost or park bench, Mr. Donovan and his eclectic bookstore are permanent fixtures of the town. I frequently drop by his store on my way to the city on days when I'm not running late to meet my snake of a boss, Jim Barnes.

The bell over the door dings as we step through the old bookstore. The lights are low and the air around us is dusty. I cough as I make my way to the side of the store where Mr. Donovan usually sits. As expected, he is sitting in his old folding chair behind the counter, reading the newspaper and drinking a steaming cup of coffee.

I clear my throat. "Mr. Donovan, do you got a minute?"

He looks up at me and smiles. Before Darcy can say anything and mess this up, I walk up to the counter and lean in towards the older gentleman.

"Mr. Donovan, how would you like to talk about your bookstore and tell people all about what makes it so special?"

Mr. Donovan considers me for a moment, glances over at Darcy, and then looks back at me. "What kind of people would I be talking to?"

"Oh, loads of people. This man wants to make a film about all the places in our town that are special. He wants your store to be recognized for the gem that it is."

"Do I gotta read lines or something?"

"Nope! Mr. Darcy over here is just going to ask you some questions and film you while you answer. If there's anything you don't feel comfortable answering just let him know. You only gotta answer the ones you want."

Mr. Donovan rubs his chin and thinks for a moment. "Is he gonna pay me anything for my time?"

I frown slightly. Darcy didn't make any mention of paying participants, but now that Mr. Donovan mentioned it, I guess its only right to compensate him for his time.

I turn to Darcy and whisper. "Does your budget allow for participant compensation?"

He looks at me for a moment. "How much will it take for him to answer all of my questions?"

I walk back over to Mr. Donovan. "How much do you want?"

Mr. Donovan's eyes grow wide. "I get to name my own price too?" He scratches his chin and then leans in even closer, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. "How much is he paying you? You're getting paid for this right?"

I give him a side smirk. "Of course, I'm getting paid. Eight dollars an hour."

"My girl! You think he'll pay me what he's paying you?"

I give him a grin and then turn back to Darcy. "I think eight dollars should be just enough to compensate him for the time he will have to divert from managing the store to fully focusing on answering your questions, right Darcy?"

Darcy scrunches his forehead and narrows his eyes. I can't tell if he is thinking really hard or annoyed. He has one of the most unreadable faces I have ever seen. After a beat, he shrugs and reaches into his pocket for his wallet.

"That sounds good." He pulls out his wallet and rifles through it. "Here's four dollars now, and I'll give you the other four after we're done filming."

Mr. Donovan fights against the smile threatening to overwhelm his face as Darcy places the four dollar bills on the countertop. He then clears his throat. "You can stay where you're seated right now. Give me a moment to set up my camera."

Darcy walks around the little store turning this way and that until he finally settles on a corner by the window. As he sets up his equipment, I turn to Mr. Donovan to brief him on what's going on.

"Woohoo, Ms. Lizzy, you've got some mighty nice friends. Where'd you find this one?"

"He found me. Well, Mrs. Potts sent him to me. He's one of those fancy executive filmmakers up on Pemberley Hill. He's a little snooty, but I'm working on that."

"I'm sure you are. I know you won't let him push you around. I'm guessing you're saving up the money for that college course."

Mr. Donovan is one of the few people who knows about my dream of being a writer. He offered to give me a job at the bookstore to help me pay for the course, but he's barely making ends meet as is. Adding an employee would just add to his problems, and I wouldn't want to do that.

I nod. "I did the math last night and it should take me about nine four-hour sessions to save up enough for the course."

Mr. Donovan smiles up at me. "I knew you'd find a way Lizzy. You just hang in there and you'll reach your goals."

"Elizabeth, can you step to the side. You're in the frame."

I turn to the corner where Darcy has set up his camera. I am not used to hearing anyone speak my full name. It almost sounds regal coming from Darcy's lips.

"Elizabeth, did you hear me?"

"Oh yes, sorry. I'm moving." I move to Darcy's side so that I can cue Mr. Donovan if need be.

"Okay…let's begin." Darcy fiddles with the camera and presses some buttons. It whirs into motion and I am amazed by how this contraption is going to capture Mr. Donovan's life story and preserve it so that people decades in the future will be able to watch. "Can you please look into the camera lens and state your name and the name of this establishment?"

Mr. Donovan glances at me, and I give him an encouraging nod and point at the camera lens signaling him to look at it.

"Um, my name is Mr. Darius Donovan, and we are currently in my book shop, Donovan's Bookshop."

"Mr. Donovan, when did you start working here?"

"Oh, I've been here my entire life. My Pa owned the store until he died, and then I took over in say '62. Maybe '65. Not quite sure anymore. Memories a tricky thing these days."

"Do you know when it was converted from a library to a bookstore and why that was?"

"Oh, but it still is a library. It's both you see. We wanted to give people choices. Different options. If someone wants to just buy a book, they can or if they don't have the coins for the book or want to try it out first, they can borrow it and return it in a week. I mainly do this for the youngins but if the grownfolk ask, I let them borrow a book or two."

The rest of the interview goes swimmingly. Darcy stays on script and only asks questions that were Lizzy Bennet approved. After Mr. Donovan gives his closing comments, Darcy thanks him for his time and then turns the camera off. As Darcy packs up, I chat with Mr. Donovan for a little bit and thank him again for his participation. Darcy comes over and hands him four dollar bills and gives him a stiff nod before we both exit.

I jump up for joy elated that we accomplished something today. "Wow, that was so amazing. That flowed so nicely. Where to next?"

Darcy glances down at his watch. "I need to head back up to the office. This took a lot longer than I expected. It's already noon." He heads in the direction of his car which is parked across the street from my family's store.

"Oh, wow. I didn't realize that we've been working for so long. Well, okay. I guess, I'll see you next Friday?"

"Yes, next Friday." Silence. "Do you think that Mama June will be open to trying again next Friday?"

"Oh no, most definitely not. I'm going to need to do some major mending of bridges before we try again. That's going to take at least two weeks of kissing up. What else is on your list?"

He thinks for a moment. "Do you know anything about the dock workers or the old defunct train station?"

"I know this part of town inside and out. Let's go to the train station next week. I can tell you all the urban legends involving that defunct train line. It's quite fascinating."

"That works for me. We can meet at 9 am. Since we'll be filming outside, it is best to wait for the sun to come up. Are you fine with talking on camera?"

"Yeah, no problem."

We stop in front of Bennet's Grocers. Darcy looks down at me for a moment, and I look back unsure of how to politely ask for my money. After a few seconds of uncomfortable staring, he is jolted out of his thoughts.

"I almost forgot. Here is the money I owe you for the work today." He pulls out some bills and hands them over to me. I count 50 dollars.

"If my math is correct, you only owe me 40 dollars."

Darcy shrugs as he starts to walk across the street to his car. "Use the extra to buy yourself a new dress."

"What's wrong with the dress I'm wearing?" I ask as I make to follow him.

He does not stop walking or turn around when he answers, "It's old and ratty." He opens the front door of his car and quickly drives away leaving me shocked and the teensy tiniest bit hurt. When I take out my cash in the safety of my room later that day, the 50 dollars in my hands help lessen the sting.