“Thanks, Caro, we will,” Jane answered, touched by her concern.
“Would you like to see the city today, Jane?” Charles asked warmly. “Just you and me?”
Jane smiled delightedly at his suggestion.
Elizabeth had been idly looking in Darcy’s direction, and she noticed his brows come together at Charles’s offer. She knew Darcy didn’t like Charles spending time with Jane; after all, Jane was clearly just using him to get what she could from him. The taste in her mouth turned bitter, and she took a gulp of coffee to wash it away.
The next two days quickly passed into routine for Elizabeth: breakfast meetings, quiet afternoons, shows at night, followed by late-night swims, and bed. She ignored Darcy as much as possible, being formal and polite to him when she could not.
Monday morning found her getting up even earlier than usual (not a pretty sight) and dragging herself down to breakfast and the buses.
A trio of buses waited for them. The first was the domain of Slurry, the second was for Darcy’s top staff, and the third would be the on-the-road home of Long Borne Suffering. Richard casually informed her that three more buses carrying the crew had left the night before, with all the sets and equipment on trucks.
Elizabeth couldn’t repress her smile as she climbed up into the bus, her guitars in each hand. The bus was like a huge, elegantly appointed motor home: two sets of bunks on the right side, a dinette and kitchen area on the left, and couches in the back. Spontaneous laughter bubbled up out of the three women over the novelty of the experience.
“I’m glad you like it,” Alex observed as he climbed up the steps, “because you are going to be here for a while.”
“It’s great, Alex,” Elizabeth grinned as Charlotte loudly announced the discovery of a deluxe entertainment center in the back.
***
Tour life settled into a routine as well. The novelty of the bus wore off quickly, but the girls’ spirits were kept up by their nightly performances.
Each morning the tour had breakfast together, at a restaurant either on the road or in the city where they would perform that night. After breakfast, the two bands would often mingle. Charles was a frequent visitor to the LBS bus, and he and Jane would talk and entertain each other for hours. Charlotte and Elizabeth would sometimes visit the Slurry bus, usually to hang with Richard, or he would visit them. An easy camaraderie developed between the groups as they learned more about each other. They learned that Elizabeth was a complete bitch in the morning until she had her coffee; that Jane was as sweet as she appeared; that Charlotte was the least romantic woman on the planet; that Richard was easygoing and had a self-effacing joke about everything; and that Charles would do anything for a friend. Only Darcy remained apart.
When she wasn’t talking to her friends or rehearsing, Elizabeth spent her time balanced between writing songs, playing her guitar, and working on her computer. She noticed that the amount of hits to the LBS website had increased greatly during their first week on tour, and she was answering more fan email than ever before.
Tuesday was the first night they were not performing, and the girls relished not only the time off but also the idea of sleeping in a bed that was not traveling down the highway. As they settled into the luxurious suite, Caroline invited the girls to go out that night with her, Charles, and Richard. They agreed happily.
“Why isn’t Darcy coming?” Elizabeth wondered out loud after Caroline left.
“He probably doesn’t want to get snarled at by you,” Charlotte said bluntly as she carried her bag to her room.
“I do not snarl,” Elizabeth objected.
“Oh no. Never,” Charlotte called out sarcastically. “Just like you never stare at him either.”
“Lizzy,” Jane said gently to Elizabeth’s surprised and questioning look, “I know you don’t snarl, but the fact of the matter is that someone who doesn’t know you as well as we do might think you are being a little short with Will.”
“I have been perfectly polite.”
“Yes, you have, but we all know that you are only ‘polite’ with people you dislike.” Jane turned to her bed and opened her suitcase. “It’s possible that Will has noticed this, too.”
“Since when have you called him Will?” Elizabeth asked, amazed.
“Lizzy,” Charlotte began as she reemerged from her bedroom, “I don’t know what you have against him, but maybe you should try being a little nicer to him.”
“You don’t know?” Lizzy repeated incredibly, her exasperation rising. “Charlotte, I told you what he said to me; you heard what he called us when he met us!”
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
“And have you seen the way he looks at Jane and Charles? It’s clear that he hates the fact that they are getting close.”
Jane looked away, embarrassed.
“Are you telling me you know what he’s thinking, Lizzy?” Charlotte asked quietly.
Elizabeth stopped short, her mouth hanging open.
“Look,” Charlotte continued, “I’ll be the first to admit, he’s not Mr. Congeniality, but you are not even giving the man a chance, and that’s not like you.”
Elizabeth looked puzzled at her friend, then to her sister. “Jane? Have I been rude to Darcy?” she asked in a doubtful voice.
“No,” Jane assured her, “you are never rude. But you haven’t made him feel accepted either, and I think it’s possible that this is why he isn’t joining us tonight.”
Elizabeth stood still for a moment, thinking. Had she been the one being standoffish? She had always blamed it on Darcy, but perhaps she hadn’t given him a chance. She remembered the night of the first show, when he gave her advice about performing. Their interaction had been odd, but still it was good advice, and she hadn’t thanked him for it. She realized if Charles or Richard had done the same, she would have made a point of thanking either one of them afterward.
As soon as she realized her friends were correct, she was resolved to try to amend her behavior. She didn’t like it, but she was determined to try to mend fences with Darcy. Setting her jaw, she walked out of her suite and knocked on the door to Darcy’s rooms. It was only afterward, when it was too late, that she questioned her impulsive behavior. What if they were wrong and Darcy was staying in for other reasons? She wondered if perhaps he wasn’t alone in his room, when the door opened.
His eyes flared for just a moment in surprise when he saw her. Elizabeth screwed up her nerve and pushed forward. “Hi,” she smiled. “Do you have a moment? I’d like to talk to you.”
Without a word, Darcy opened the door wide and stood aside. Darcy’s rooms were similar to her own. The living room was empty, except for his guitar resting on the couch. Elizabeth walked to the sitting area and asked uncomfortably, “Were you doing something?”
Darcy shook his head as he sat down on the couch, drawing the guitar back into his lap. “I was just playing,” he answered softly, looking down at his instrument and then fixing her eyes with his gaze. He indicated the love seat next to the couch where he sat and once she was seated, asked, “What’s on your mind?”
Elizabeth stared at his fingers, which were instinctively curling around the neck of the guitar. “I, um,” she stopped and looked down. Then started again. “I’m sorry; this is a little difficult for me. I realized today that I have been pretty rude to you, and I apologize. You have been trying to be friendly and I’ve been blowing you off and that’s not like me, really.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “So, I came to say I’m sorry.”
She paused. Darcy waited, silently. Then she continued, “I heard you aren’t coming out with us tonight, and I hope that isn’t because of me.” She realized how egotistical it sounded and wondered again about making a fool of herself. “I would like for you to come. Charles said something about an eighties karaoke party, and anyway, I’d like to try to get to know you better.” Realizing she was babbling, she finished as gracefully as she could.
Darcy stared at her long enough to make
her nervous. She was convincing herself that she was not only a fool but about to get thrown off the tour when he finally spoke. “Thank you for coming here,” he started. His eyes broke away, as he looked down for a beat, before traveling back to hers. “I had wondered if I had offended you,” he spoke slowly, and Elizabeth realized with a flash of insight that he was embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry if I did.” He watched her again, waiting for her reaction.
Elizabeth had nothing to say to that, so she smiled uncomfortably and waited. “I’m not coming out tonight because, truthfully, I hate clubs. Too many people and too much noise.” He shrugged and flashed a quick smile. “I’m something of a homebody, I’m afraid.”
Elizabeth was speechless. This was the last thing she had expected from the imposing Fitzwilliam Darcy. She questioned how much she did know about this man she had been working with for two weeks. She realized he was staring at her, expecting a response, and quickly said the first thing that came to her mind. “Oh, well, I’m glad it’s not me,” she smiled nervously. “But I do hope we can be friends, Darcy.” She said his name uneasily.
“My friends call me Will,” he said, his deep voice warmer than she had ever heard it.
Elizabeth smiled genuinely and held out her hand. “And mine call me Lizzy.”
As Darcy shook her hand, she noticed his palm was warm, his touch firm, and she could feel the roughness of his calluses scraping against her own. A flash of something like desire bolted through her as she had a sudden vision of that rough skin against her most tender parts. Looking quickly away, she rose and moved toward the door. Darcy followed her silently.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow then, Will?” she asked pleasantly as she opened the door. Darcy nodded and took the door as she passed through it. “Bye,” she waved.
Darcy watched as she blithely returned to her suite and then slowly shut the door.
***
Four nights later found them in Pensacola, Florida, for a one-night show. This was one of the smallest houses they had yet played, a large civic center rather than a stadium or arena. Jane commented on how she was looking forward to performing in a more intimate setting. Elizabeth really couldn’t see how eight thousand was more intimate than twenty, but she wasn’t going to argue.
Before they went out, Alex informed the girls that their video would debut on MTV on Tuesday. Excited by the news, they took the stage, ready to play their hearts out.
The set progressed flawlessly until they reached Jane’s second song, “Good-bye.” Elizabeth was focused on her playing when suddenly she knew something was wrong. Jane abruptly stopped singing and fell to the floor. Elizabeth froze in shock until she saw the blood pouring out of Jane’s forehead and pooling on the stage.
Then her guitar was on the ground and she was pulling Jane onto her lap, saying her name over and over again. Jane was unconscious, her face very white against the bright red blood running into her hair. Elizabeth looked up, feeling very small and alone, wondering what to do, when suddenly Charles appeared.
***
Darcy was standing where he always stood during her performance, watching her at the bank of monitors. He didn’t know why. At first, it had been just to make sure she was good enough, then to make sure she was okay. But she had long since proven herself. Darcy knew her act by heart, still, every night he was there, watching her and listening to her songs. It was like he was bewitched.
Charles stood beside him, as always. At least Charles had no doubts, Darcy reflected in annoyance. Charles was absolutely clear why he was there. He wore his Jane smile, and Darcy wondered who was trying to fool whom. It was clear that Charles was completely hooked on Jane. It had only been dumb luck and separate tour buses that kept them apart. He didn’t object to his friend’s romance with Jane in principle. Jane seemed like a nice person. The circumstances were the problem. With only two weeks into the tour and another seven months to go, all their lives could become a total hell if their relationship went south. It wasn’t that Darcy was against his friend’s happiness, he told himself for the hundredth time; it was just that this was a national tour. It was more important than an infatuation.
His thoughts were broken by a shout. Darcy turned and watched Charles run from him, his face stricken. He turned back to the monitors and his breath caught at what he saw. Elizabeth was kneeling on the ground, Jane unconscious before her. “Rebecca!” he yelled, turning toward the stage.
She was there, firing orders into her headset, blocking Darcy’s path to the stage with her body. “Wait, Darcy! I think it was a bottle, but I don’t know yet. Don’t go out there!”
A moment later, Charles came back, carrying Jane, her arms swaying like a rag doll; Elizabeth, clothes bloodied, and Charlotte followed, both looking very frightened.
“Did you see what happened?” Rebecca barked.
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I was playing and she just went down and there was blood.” She craned her head to see what was happening to Jane. Alex led a team of EMTs out of nowhere and they took Jane from Charles.
The roar of the crowd and Caroline’s voice coming over the loudspeakers suddenly brought Darcy back to himself. “Rebecca, I need to know what it was, now!”
Rebecca nodded, her attention divided between Darcy and her headset. “It was a bottle. We found it, and my people have the assailant.”
Darcy nodded, satisfied. “The police?”
“They’re coming.”
Darcy pushed between Charles and Elizabeth to look at Jane. “Is she going to be okay?” he asked the technicians working over her. Jane had regained consciousness and was crying softly. Darcy could now see the deep gash on her forehead that traveled up to her hairline.
“Yes, it looks like a concussion. We’ll transport her, but I think she’ll be all right.”
Darcy sighed. “Good.” He turned to his friend. “Charles, go get cleaned up. Caroline!”
“Right here, Darcy.”
“Get the stage cleaned up and our set out there ASAP!”
Caroline nodded and started speaking into her microphone. Charles stared at him stunned. “We’re going on?” he asked, astounded.
“We’re going on,” Darcy said firmly. “Go get ready.” Charles remained where he was, frozen. “Do it!” Darcy snapped. “She’ll be okay!”
Charles moved woodenly toward his dressing room while Richard came running up to the huddle of people Darcy was circling around like a shark. “What’s going on?”
“We are, as soon as possible. Get yourself ready.”
Elizabeth watched Darcy from the floor, where she knelt beside Jane, her eyes large and uncomprehending. Finally he turned back to her and gently pulled her to her feet. “Go with her, Elizabeth, make sure she sees a plastic surgeon.” Darcy looked at Jane’s prone form, then back to Elizabeth. “I’ll take care of all the costs, but I don’t want her to have a scar. Do you understand?”
Elizabeth searched Darcy’s eyes, trying to understand what he was saying. She nodded dully.
“We’ll come to the hospital when the show is over, but right now we have to make sure the crowd doesn’t tear the house apart.” He stopped and tilted his head. “Elizabeth, do you understand?”
Elizabeth’s eyelids flickered and she seemed to come back to herself. “I understand,” she replied softly.
Darcy stared at her a moment, then nodded. “Good. We will come right after the show. Take care of her.”
They separated, one group moving toward the stage, the other moving toward the door; both focused on their tasks and forgot about the other.
***
Elizabeth was staring at the floor of the private waiting room they had been given. She objected to being there. She objected to the bright lights, to the random droning of the TV that no one was watching, to the voices, some fearful, some calm. She objected to the waiting and worrying. Her eyes played over the brown, tan, and white pattern of the tile floor again and again as she waited.
Ale
x and Charlotte sat beside her on the vinyl couch; Charlotte flipped through a dog-eared magazine while Alex rubbed her back absently. The time for panic had long since passed and Elizabeth was left feeling tired and slightly nauseated.
She heard a bustle of footsteps and Darcy and Charles rushed into the room, with Richard following behind. “How is she?” Charles asked, his face stricken.
Elizabeth stood and walked calmly to him. She noticed he was still wearing his concert outfit, and she wondered in passing what Mrs. Wong, the wardrobe mistress, would think. “She’s okay,” Elizabeth told him, seeing his shoulders drop in visible relief. “She’s currently having a CT scan, then we can go back to her.”
“Why are they only doing the CT scan now?” Darcy asked impatiently.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Because her vitals were good, and the plastic surgeon insisted on working on her first.” She didn’t try to hide the weariness in her voice.
Darcy’s face softened. “It’s a concussion, then?” Elizabeth nodded. “What’s the prognosis?”
“If the CT scan comes back like they expect it will, she should be free to go in a few hours. She’s going to have to see a plastic surgeon again in a week, but it doesn’t have to be the same one she saw tonight. If we know what city we will be in, the doctor here will give her a referral.”
Darcy nodded and pulled his cell out of his pocket, while Charles took her hand. “Are you okay, Lizzy?”
The caring in his face was too much and Elizabeth’s eyes stung with tears. Without a word, Charles took her into his arms, holding her in a protective hug. Elizabeth took advantage of his strength for a moment, then forced her emotions down and pulled away, nodding her thanks to Charles as she did. She was helped by the distraction of Darcy’s voice speaking into the phone.
“Caro, she’s going to be okay… It’s a concussion… We’re staying here tonight. Cancel tomorrow night… Okay, thanks.” With a snap he hung up.
Elizabeth stared at him, stunned. “You’re stopping the tour?”
Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star Page 9