Darcy stabbed at his phone, trying to review the latest round of images for a new marketing campaign, but in reality too distracted from arguing with his friend Bing.

"Weddings are pointless and a waste of time." It wasn't the first time Darcy had espoused this view, and it wouldn't be the last. "You do realize that up to fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, right?"

"Ah, but that's fifty percent of marriages that don't," Bing countered. "Stop being so glass half empty, Darcy."

"And of those fifty that remain together," Darcy continued, ignoring his friend's admonishment. "How many of them are miserable, but stay together because of circumstances?"

Bing flicked a rubber band at Darcy's head, earning a glare. "Look, I know you've got a thing against marriage because of your parents. I really don't blame you for being cautious. But just because their marriage ended in a flaming ball of horse manure doesn't mean everyone's will. And we haven't seen Kent Pritchard since graduation. I know plenty of the rest of the crew from university will be there. It would be good to see them again."

"Most of our old friends were boring during our school years, and I'm sure they've only grown more boring since."

Bing laughed. "You're such a sour face. It will be more fun than you give it credit."

Darcy sighed, setting his phone down. "You're not going to give up until I agree to go, are you?"

"Nope." Bing beamed. "One, it's the socially acceptable thing to do. Two, you need to get out of the house more often. Drink a little. Dance a little. Maybe kiss an omega."

"That's not my style."

Bing shrugged. "Maybe it should be. You're so serious all the time, Darcy. So responsible. You just need to let loose a little every now and then."

Darcy closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. The real reason he was avoiding this wedding had nothing to do with it being boring or a waste of time—though those were both arguments he used vehemently any time one of their numerous friends or acquaintances decided to tie the knot. The real reason was that Darcy's mother was close friends with Kent’s mother, and there was no way Ms. de Bourgh—she insisted on being addressed by her maiden name these days—would miss any social event where she could flaunt her recently purchased and completely age inappropriate boob job and recent boy toy. Not that Darcy's father was any better, but at least he had as little patience for weddings as Darcy did. Darcy was surprised he'd managed to get through his own. The vows clearly hadn't meant anything to him.

Darcy hated airing his family's dirty laundry, though, so he would never confess to the true reason he was avoiding Kent’s wedding. It wasn't as if any of their circle was unaware of Darcy’s family’s situation.

Darcy did his best to avoid being reminded of it.

He had a hard time refusing Bing anything, though. Before Bing, Darcy had derided the idea of true friendship. Everyone wanted something from you. Friendships were just masks for beneficial exchanges. Bing had persistently disproved that over the years, being one of two people who had earned Darcy's complete devotion.

The other would be his sister, Gina. Somehow, despite their parents’ machinations and manipulations, she had remained one of the purest souls he'd ever known, right there with Bing. This made them both extremely susceptible to being used by other people, and more than a little dependent on Darcy's suspicious soul to protect them.

"So you'll come?" Bing might be oblivious to others' ill intentions, but he was very attentive to Darcy's weaknesses.

"Under great protest," Darcy answered.

"Excellent!" Bing clapped his hands together. "Carter will be happy you're coming, too."

Darcy had long ago trained himself to conceal his emotions so no grimace crossed his face at the mention of Bing's brother. Carter was a less terrible human than some, but he was annoyingly clingy. Darcy was willing to put up with just about anything for Bing's sake, though.

"Do I need to buy a present?" Darcy asked, all pretense of protest passed.

"Just give me your card and I'll take care of it."

Darcy tossed Bing his wallet with complete trust. "Just something tasteful, please. No more giant metal roosters."

Bing's grin was unrepentant. "What are you talking about? The metal rooster was a huge hit."

Darcy stared down his nose at his friend.

"Fine, fine. I'll buy something boring,” Bing grumbled as he left, missing Darcy's rare smile behind his back.

Darcy didn't believe in arriving early, but he knew it was expected to arrive fifteen minutes or more before the start of the ceremony so everyone could be seated in a timely manner. Therefore, he arrived exactly fifteen minutes before the ceremony, no more, no less.

Bing and Carter had already been seated and waved at Darcy from the middle of the room, but the usher seated Darcy in the back of the nearly full room, which suited Darcy perfectly.

His mother was easy to spot—she was near the front, wearing a too-large hat with three flowers as big as a dinner plate tilting it backward with their weight, making it look more like a wall decoration than a piece of millinery. It had to be blocking the view of at least ten people behind her, but fulfilled its desired purpose of drawing attention. Gina was away on a research trip, so she hadn't even had to make up an excuse to get out of the event, which he was slightly jealous of.

Weddings. They were just layers and layers of lies. To trust and cherish each other forever. That there would even be a forever. That it was anything more than a business agreement between two individuals who unwisely planned to join their financial and physical assets for no reason other than a chemical surge of emotion. Even performing this wedding in church felt like a lie. Darcy doubted Kent had ever stepped foot in a church before this. Well, perhaps for Easter and Christmas as a child. Though the decorations did seem on par with the norm for those holidays. Too many lilies, smelling like death, and swathes of tulle and lace.

Give him a modern, uncluttered office any day.

The wedding started exactly on time, which he approved of, and the ceremony was fairly short, which he definitely approved of. They started dismissing the guests from the front to the back after the wedding party receded, which was problematic. His mother would be certain to see him and make a show of it, preventing anyone from leaving the room until she was certain everyone had seen her and her display of motherly devotion.

Only the center doors were open to funnel all the guests through the newly married couple's receiving line, but a pair of closed doors stood to either side. Darcy made his apologies to the couple sitting to his right and squeezed past them to the end of the row. He tugged at the bottom of his jacket to straighten it, then strode to the nearest door.

The handle turned easily, but it bumped against something soft that made an "ooph" noise. A pair of warm, dark eyes peered through the crack in the door.

"The couple is receiving everyone through the main doors," a light, male voice murmured.

Darcy pressed more firmly against the door, but the other man held steady, blocking him.

"I require access to the facilities," Darcy said tersely. Surely this was against code. They shouldn't be blocking exits.

"The facili—oh!" The door gave way. "Down the hall to your left. Just let me know when you want to go back in so you can go through the line."

"Of course." As if Darcy had any intention of forcing himself into the middle of the insipid, emotional crowd. He would stay long enough at the reception to bid his congratulations to the couple—preferably when they weren't surrounded by other well-wishers—and then leave. Surely that would fulfill all the social responsibility Bing expected of him.

And if he could avoid his mother for the entirety, so much the better.

By the time he finished in the restroom, not hurrying but not dawdling either, the dark eyed man who had stood sentinel over the side door was gone, and the couple was being herded back into the room along with the rest of the wedding party.

“Pardon me,” Darcy stopped an elderly woman who was passing him. “Is the wedding party not going directly to the reception?”

“Oh, no, honey. They have to finish up their photos.”

Darcy thanked her and she continued on. Of course. Pictures. How long was that supposed to take? Five minutes? Fifteen? An hour?

Longer than Darcy had planned on, no matter the length.

Bing would be looking for him, and he had no more excuses to avoid the reception. Darcy followed the overflow of lace-wrapped tree branches to the reception area, grumbling. If they'd wanted an outdoor wedding, they would have done better to leave nature where it was.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Bing who found him first. His mother must have been waiting; she pounced on him the moment he entered the room.

“Darcy, darling!”

His back stiffened involuntarily, but he gave her cheek the expected air kiss, making sure to dodge the overly large brim of her hat.

“Hello, Mother.”

“I feel like it’s been simply ages. You shouldn’t work so much, dear.” Ms. de Bourgh slid her arm through Darcy’s and deftly maneuvered him through the crowd, nodding at acquaintances as if to say, “See what a happy family we are?”

"You know how it is, Mother." Darcy worked no more than his father had, but he explicitly avoided referring to his father's long hours before Darcy took over the company. Many of the hours had been filled with actual work... but many of them had been spent running around on Darcy's mother. And while Ms. de Bourgh had her faults, she had not earned his father's infidelity. “Where is…” Darcy honestly couldn’t remember the name of her current fling.

“Rupert? Oh, he had to travel to Ann Arbor. His sister lives there, you know. Poor dear. She’s sickly. Something incurable, they think.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Darcy said. He felt slightly guilty for… he wasn’t exactly sure what for. What was the appropriate emotion when someone you didn’t care to meet was thankfully gone, but only because his family was in the midst of a terrible situation?

"Thank you, dear. I’ve done my best to be a support for him.” Without warning, she turned the conversation to her constant refrain: “What you need is a partner." How she could insist on the necessity of marriage after her own had fallen apart so brilliantly, Darcy could not fathom. "I was talking to Beverly Hilston, a lovely woman, and she said that her daughter has just graduated from Chilton with top honors. You always insist that the omegas I try to introduce you to are dull and unintelligent, but Chilton, my dear! It's hard to get more prestigious than that."

Darcy faced a moment of shock that his mother had actually listened to his protests, and Ms. de Bourgh used his distraction to beeline toward a pair of women, clearly mother and daughter, who eyed him like a particularly well cut steak at the butcher.

Ms. de Bourgh introduced Mrs. Hilston and her daughter, Darlene.

Darcy nodded his greetings, but as usual when facing new people who were not connected to his business, he found himself at a loss for words. How did one engage strangers without some mutual understanding of interest?

"I was just telling Darcy that you graduated from Chilton, Darlene," Ms. de Bourgh filled in the awkward silence.

"Ah, yes." Darcy grasped at the easy topic. "What did you study?"

"Sustainability science with a concentration in media representation. Particularly in the evolving nature of social journalism." Darlene Hilston was pretty, in a normal sort of way. She wasn't overdone like either of their mothers. Her blonde hair seemed natural, and while she wore makeup, it was minimal, designed to give the sense of a fresh face.

"And what do you intend to do with your degree?"

Ms. de Bourgh tittered. "What do you mean, my dear? She doesn't have to do anything with it. I find that education is enough to broaden the mind, don't you?"

Darcy did not.

"Actually, I find knowledge without application is wasteful," Darlene countered, softening her words with a conciliatory smile.

"I agree wholeheartedly." It was unexpected to find someone with whom he so quickly found common ground.

Ms. de Bourgh blinked rapidly at Darcy's uncharacteristic exuberance.

"My thesis and true interest lies in combating false media representation."

For once, Darcy's mother had stumbled upon a prospective omega who was actually interesting. Judging by Ms. de Bourgh’s rapidly souring expression, however, this wasn't what she had expected.

"And what does that entail?" Darcy didn’t give his mother the chance to redirect the conversation.

Mrs. Hilston sidled up to his mother and the two began whispering, Ms. de Bourgh's face sweetening under whatever Mrs. Hilston was sharing with her.

"So many companies these days are latching on to the idea of being environmentally friendly, but it's in name only. They'll talk about their 'green' product or focus while still sourcing materials in harmful ways, or even disposing of their waste irresponsibly."

Darcy took two champagne flutes from the tray of a wandering server and handed one to Darlene. "Can you give me an example?"

"Well, my thesis was on the Hyper West green campaign last year—the one with the acrobatic koala? Do you remember it?"

Darcy's fingers tightened around the fragile stem of his flute, his personal shield trickling through his skin as his defenses raised. "I do." He knew it well. He had designed the entire campaign—one of the few he had taken full control of, as a personal favor to the owner.

"Well, the company has been pushing this line about how they're sourcing their paper from eco-friendly sources, but if you really drill down, their sources are some of the largest contributors to deforestation in the rainforest. And their renewable energy project? They're currently only sourcing five percent of their usage from renewable sources." Darlene's eyes were bright with passion.

Darcy took a sip of champagne. "I see. And how do you find your sources for this information?"

"It's in the company's actual reports! All people see is the advertisements, though. They don't go looking for the actual story. I want to bring the story to them."

Darcy drained his flute and set it on the tray of another passing server. "It takes time to switch over to better sources, though, doesn't it?"

"Perhaps. But reality simply doesn't match the stories companies are telling about themselves. And to be honest, I don't believe that corporations can truly change. If being environmentally friendly was actually important to them, they would have focused on it from the beginning."

Darcy folded his hands behind his back. "You don't think that the new information about the state of our planet has influenced their thinking? It wasn't so long ago we didn't know about the effects of many of our chemicals and emissions."

Darlene dismissed his words with a wave. "They didn't want to know. The information has been there for longer than people think."

Darcy nodded. He had no desire to argue with someone whose mind was clearly already made up. He could vouch for Hyper West in particular and forward-thinking companies in general, including his company, Pemberly Visions, but Darlene's last words had rid him of any desire to spend the time doing so. Years of working with clients had taught him how to quickly read a situation. There were those who could be persuaded with facts, and those who couldn’t. Darlene was one of the latter.

"Well. This has been a fascinating conversation. I hope you will excuse me, though. I have some business to attend to."

Darcy bowed slightly and headed for the farthest corner of the room. He appreciated his mother’s attempt to find someone slightly more suited to his preferences, but he really wished she would just stop completely. He had no faith in the institution of marriage, and even if he did, he had no time to pursue it.

Halfway across the room, he sighted Bing to his left and changed directions.

"Darcy!" Bing greeted him cheerfully. "Is the wedding quite so bad as you expected?"

Behind Bing, Darcy spotted the dark-eyed man who had been guarding the side door to the sanctuary, but the man displayed no recognition of Darcy or displeasure that Darcy hadn't returned in a timely manner. And why should he? Darcy had a right to go where he damn well pleased.

"It is just as awful as I expected," Darcy said tersely. "The decorations are gaudy. The champagne is second rate. And really, how long does it take to take pictures? At least the ceremony was short."

A thump behind them caused both men to turn. The dark eyed man was righting one of those lace wrapped branch containers. Darcy was surprised Darlene hadn't complained about how un-green those were.

Bing laughed and clapped Darcy on the shoulder. "You're such an old sourpuss. One of these days, you're going to fall in love, and you're going to have a wedding just like this, and I'm going to laugh in your face."

Darcy glared around the room. "I highly doubt it."

“Well, be a grump all you want. I’m going to go ask that pretty blonde to dance with me. You should think about joining us. Find someone. Loosen up.”

Darcy waved Bing on. “I’m more than happy right here. Don’t let my mood affect you.”

Bing winked and shot him a double gun finger. “I never do.”