Chapter Four

 It took me less than five seconds to find my sister, because she was standing on a chair at the bar waving to Layla and calling out the actress' name.

The movie star was ignoring her and leaving the party. Lydia continued to shout, perilously teetering on the chair and looking like she might fall down at any moment.

I hurried over and pulled her down. Several people were staring. I thanked my lucky stars that none of my co-workers had won tickets because this was embarrassing. At least we would never have to see these rich people again after tonight.

“What are you doing?” Lydia slurred. She pushed me away, but not before I could smell the alcohol drenching her.

“Fix your dress,” I hissed at her. “You're embarrassing yourself.”

Lydia looked down at her dress to see her bra poking out of the top. She giggled and tugged her strapless dress back up to cover it. “It's not that big of a deal, Lizzie.”

"What are you doing?" I asked her. I leaned over and motioned to the bartender for a drink. I needed one. No, I needed three.

“Getting famous,” Lydia replied. “I want another drink, too.”

“No, you're cut off,” I told her. The bartender nodded as he handed me a martini. I chugged it as soon as he set it down, ignoring the burning sensation down my throat. I motioned for another.

Lydia pouted. “I'm not that drunk,” she said, trying to sit down on a chair and missing. She caught herself before falling too much. “Besides, I have great news.”

"That's fantastic," I told her. The bartender handed me a new martini, looking at little hesitant this time. I took a delicate sip, and he looked less worried. I turned back to Lydia, giving her my full attention. "Okay, what's your news?"

“I found a talent scout. He likes me, and I'm going to be in all kinds of commercials,” Lydia announced. “That's him in the blue suit.”

She pointed directly at the transport assistant from downstairs.

“You mean the guy with the man-bun and the suit jacket that's too big?” I asked. I took another delicate sip of my drink.

"Yeah. He told me he could get me in all kinds of commercials," Lydia told me proudly. "He's going to take me back to his place, and we're going to discuss what I want to do first."

I took a nice long sip of my drink. It was soothing, and I was going to need more at the rate this night was going.

“That's Eddy. He's an orderly on the fourth floor. He is the other employee who won tickets to tonight. He is not a talent scout,” I told her, trying to use a gentle voice. “Unless you are laying on a gurney and need transport, he's not going to help your career.”

“What?” Lydia's mouth opened in shock. She looked back and forth between Eddie and me in shock. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I tried. Remember when you shooed me away?” Her eyes went wide.

“You should have tried harder,” she chastised me. She crossed her arms and pouted. “Well, I'm not going home with him now.”

“That's probably a good idea,” I agreed. She rolled her eyes at me before trying to stand up and nearly falling down.

"Now who is going to make me famous?" she mumbled, tripping over her own feet as she took a step away from me. I barely managed to catch her. She was totally drunk.

“No one. We're going home,” I told her. “You'll have to find fame another time.”

“No!” she shouted. People turned and looked at her. “This is supposed to be my big break!”

“No, this is supposed to be a fun party for the three of us,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “This was supposed to be a fun night out, remember?”

Lydia crossed her arms and pouted.

“Look, it's time to go home,” I told her gently. I motioned to the bar. “They're closing the bar.”

She looked over to see the bartender put up a small “closed” sign and walk away. The pout on her face got larger. She let out a loud hiccup.

“I don't feel so good,” she told me. I sighed and quickly finished my martini

"Come sit over here by the door, and I'll go get Jane and our jackets," I said gently. She followed me on wobbly legs to the lobby of the hotel where she plopped down into an overstuffed chair looking utterly miserable.

I made sure she was going to stay in her chair before heading into the crowd to find Jane. Looking back at Lydia, she looked more likely to pass out in her chair than throw up, so I knew I had a little bit of time. I headed back to the silent auction area where I had last seen Jane.

The lobby was crowded as people prepared to leave the party, and it took me a while to navigate through it. I was almost to the ballroom where I hoped to find Jane when I got stuck behind a wealthy woman looking for her fur coat. I couldn't find a way past, so I had to wait until she moved.

I saw Mr. Darcy and Charles walking through the lobby just ahead of me. It was hard to miss the two of them. Mr. Darcy stood out in a crowd. He was tall and incredibly handsome. His dark hair and blue eyes were just my type. It was a damn shame he was such an ass.

I laughed as I realized I called him Mr. Darcy when thinking of him. Even in my head, he was now Mr. Darcy. He was too pretentious for me not to call him anything but that.

I could hear Jane's voice in my head to give the man a second chance. Jane was all about second chances. I sighed. He did buy a bunch of items at the auction to benefit the hospital. He was helping raise funds, and I could appreciate that. I decided I could give him a second chance.

I took a step in his direction, trying to escape the crowd in front of me. I couldn't get close enough to join the two men though, but I couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

“I can't believe I'm going home alone tonight,” Mr. Darcy said in his British accent. It managed to sound snooty and sad at the same time. He was definitely a James Bond villain.

“I can't believe it either,” Charles agreed, shuffling slightly to the side to make room for the crowd. “It's almost like you were stand-offish and rude.”

I snickered slightly.

“Actually, I can't believe that you aren't taking that pretty blonde home,” Mr. Darcy replied, ignoring Charles' quip. “I think she was on your arm the entire night.”

“Jane?” Charles' smile was evident in his voice even though I was behind them. “I want to take it slow and do it right. I think there's a future with her.”

“Are you bloody serious?” Mr. Darcy asked, turning and looking at his friend. “You sound like a bad romance novel.”

Charles just chuckled. “Yes, I know you're laughing at me, but I don't care.” He shrugged. “I like her, and I'm not going to rush her into bed just because I can.”

Mr. Darcy shook his head. “That's a mistake. You know you--”

“I know very well what I can do,” Charles cut him off. “Besides, I'm not the one striking out and unhappy about it. I'm very happy with how my night went.”

“You're not getting shagged either,” Mr. Darcy replied.

“I want it to be special,” Charles replied. “That's the point. I'm not making the same mistake twice.”

I couldn't see their faces, but Mr. Darcy just sighed. "I don't get you sometimes. You could have any girl here, and you're going home alone."

“It's not just about shagging,” Charles replied, mimicking Mr. Darcy's accent. “It's about connection.”

“You seem to think that's important.” Mr. Darcy looked over at his friend like Charles was slightly insane. “I don't need connection.”

Charles sighed.

“What about Jane's roommate? Elizabeth?” Charles asked. “Maybe you could ask her for drinks and see where it goes. She's your type. From what Jane told me, I think you two would get along well.”

“My type? You mean money hungry?” Mr. Darcy countered.

My eyes widened. No one had ever called me money hungry before.

“Ouch,” Charles replied, turning to look at his friend. “I didn't get that from her. What's your problem with her?”

"She's wearing a designer gown she can't afford and bidding on items just for attention," Mr. Darcy explained. "She's just here to meet a rich husband, so she doesn't have to work her meaningless job. I doubt there's a brain cell in her head that actually functions."

I stopped cold, my jaw hitting the floor. Every word out of his mouth was wrong. The gown was a rental, so I could definitely afford it. I had only bid on items I could afford. I had no desire to meet my husband, I loved my job as a nurse, and I had a freaking master's degree.

My first impression of him was dead on. He was an ass.

“Wow.” Charles stopped and looked at his friend. Even from behind them, I could see the disbelief on his face. “Don't hold back. Please, tell me how you really feel.”

“Did you see her younger sister?” Mr. Darcy continued. “Looking for fame and money. The movie star had to leave early to avoid her. She was drunken screaming at the bar like a lunatic. The whole family is nothing but trouble.”

And he had to insult my sister? His second chance flew out the window like a canary being chased by a cat.

“You sound like Catherine,” Charles told him with a snicker. “Next you'll say something about them being beneath your bloodline.”

“I do not sound like my Chief Operations Officer,” Mr. Darcy replied. “I sound nothing like her.”

"She's just here to meet a rich husband, so she doesn't have to work her meaningless job," Charles repeated, but in a high-pitched, British, old-lady voice.

The way Mr. Darcy glared at Charles told me it was a good impression. I was too angry to laugh at it, though. The crowd moved forward, and I was pushed a couple of steps closer to the two of them.

"It doesn't mean she's wrong," Mr. Darcy told Charles. "Besides, you're just in a good mood, or you'd see it too."

“I am in a good mood,” Charles agreed.

"See? Drunk on love. You found the prettiest girl here, and she happens to like art," Mr. Darcy continued. "You're so twitterpated that you don't even care that you're leaving alone for the night."

"She knew about abstract impressionism."Charles sighed happily. "And I don't care what you think. She made my night."

Mr. Darcy snorted. Somehow, he managed to make that sound stuck-up too.

“Some things are worth waiting for,” Charles informed him. “She's one of them.”

"You can wait for things then," Mr. Darcy replied. "I get what I want when I want it. I won't be waiting like a lovesick fool for any woman."

“She noticed the brush strokes,” Charles said, completely ignoring Mr. Darcy. He walked like he was on clouds rather than tiled floors.

"Good," Mr. Darcy said. "Perhaps now you can take her to those awful art shows, and I can stay home."

Charles laughed. “No way. I still need some way to torture you.”

Mr. Darcy shook his head and chuckled. “Of course you do.”

“I'm so happy,” Charles said with a soft sigh. He looked over at his friend. “I wish there were someone that could make you this happy.”

“Not going to art shows might do it,” Mr. Darcy told him. “Besides, I don't need love.”

The crowd moved forward, and I was now right behind them. I wished I didn't have to listen in on this conversation anymore, but with the crowd the way it was, there was nowhere else for me to get to the auction room to find Jane.

“Everyone needs love,” Charles told Mr. Darcy. “Even you.”

“No, I need to get laid,” Mr. Darcy replied. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don't want it to mean anything.”

“Then pick someone you don't care about,” Charles replied, exasperated.

Mr. Darcy shrugged.”Maybe the flatmate will work for the night. She looks like she'd be up for a shag. She'd probably do it just for the bragging rights. It'll be easy, if terrible.”

White hot rage flowed through me. I didn't stop to think. Anger propelled me forward.

I walked right over to him and slapped his face.

“How's that for a bragging right?” I spat. My hand stung as a red mark grew on Mr. Darcy's cheek. Charles' eyes went wide. “You don't know anything about me.”

Mr. Darcy's hand went to his cheek. He hadn't even touched it for two seconds when two giant security guards were suddenly on either side of him giving me death glares. I wasn't even sure how they'd gotten through the crowd. One of them reached forward and grabbed my arm. His grip was iron.

It was a good thing I was still angry, or I would have been terrified.

“Ma'am, you're going to leave. Now,” the big guard informed me. I tried to pull out of his grip, but he wasn't letting go.

“I was just on my way out,” I said, hoping I sounded calmer than I felt. “I just need to get my roommate. She's right there.”

Jane magically appeared at the far end of the lobby just as I needed her. She had all three of our jackets on her arm, but she hadn't seen the guards or me yet.

The guards looked at Mr. Darcy to see what he wanted them to do.

“Let her go,” he said, gingerly touching the red welt on his cheek. “Just as long as she doesn't hit me again.”

"Roommate and out. We're watching." The vice-like grip left me, and they stood with arms crossed behind Mr. Darcy.

I was tempted to hit him again just out of spite but had no desire to tangle with his massive bodyguards. So I just threw back my shoulders and raised my chin defiantly.

"You deserved it, you ass." I smoothed my dress and then turned and walked calmly to Jane as if it were my choice and not the guards' directions.

“There you are,” Jane greeted me as soon as I got closer to her. “This place is a zoo.”

“No kidding,” I agreed. “I think I just met a couple of lions.”

Jane gave me a strange look, but then just shook her head as she was used to me being weird.

"Guess what? Charles invited me to an art opening next week." Her eyes sparkled, and she grinned.

I thought of how happy he had sounded talking to Mr. Darcy about her and smiled. At least he was a decent human being, even if his taste in friends was terrible.

“I'm so happy for you,” I replied as we made our way across the lobby with our jackets.

“Why are you walking so fast?” Jane asked, picking up her skirt to keep up with me.

“Sorry, I have to get Lydia home. She's trashed,” I explained. I heard a noise across the lobby that sounded suspiciously like someone vomiting. I stopped walking fast because there was no reason anymore. “And she's throwing up. Oh, and, I might have gotten myself kicked out of the party.”

“What?” Jane paused for a second before catching up. “Actually, I'm not sure I even want to know.”

“You can stay longer if you'd like,” I told Jane as I wound my way around the crowd. “Charles really seems to like you.”

“I like him,” Jane replied with a smile. It was short lived. “But, you need all the help you can get with Lydia. Remember last time?”

I wanted to tell her that I didn't and that she could be with Charles tonight. But the vomiting noise was getting worse and drunk Lydia was a handful. I was going to need all the help I could get.

We made it across the last bit of the lobby to find Lydia still on her chair, but with a splatter of what looked like mostly Long Island Iced Tea in front of her.

“I couldn't help it,” Lydia whimpered, wrapping her arms around her legs as she curled up in the chair.

I ran to the bathroom to grab some paper towels. Luckily, the lobby was clearing out, so it didn't take me very long. I called to the front desk that we needed a cleanup, and they told me they were already on it. I came back to find Jane taking care of Lydia and making sure that no one stepped in anything.

I went to work cleaning up the mess. It was a good thing I was a nurse and knew how to handle this kind of thing. Sometimes, taking care of my sister was exhausting.

“Jane, there you are,” Charles said, coming up to greet her.

"Watch out," I warned, and he stopped short. Mr. Darcy came up behind him, and they both grimaced at the mess.

“Jane, can I call you tomorrow?” Charles asked. “I know you're busy now.”

Jane grinned. “I'd like that.”

“Okay.” A smile lit up Charles' face like the Fourth of July. It was absolutely the most adorable thing I had ever seen. “Tomorrow then.”

Jane just sat there smiling at him, and he just stood there smiling at her. It was so sweet and innocent that it felt almost silly. It reminded me of being on the playground the first time someone admitted they had a crush.

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and gave his friend a gentle push on the shoulder. Charles waved as the two of them walked off. I looked up just as Mr. Darcy looked back.

His eyes met mine. His expression was unreadable, yet it made my stomach do flip-flops. I couldn't help it, but I felt stupid. I felt like I didn't measure up to his standards. I didn't understand how I could feel like this, since I didn't care about him or what he thought of me. I didn't have to measure up to him at all. I didn't like him, and I certainly didn't care what he thought.

Yet, somehow, I couldn't take my eyes off him as he walked away.