Fitzwilliam Darcy, Rock Star (24 page)

Charlotte kicked him hard in the shin under the table, her eyes indicating Darcy. Richard mouthed “ow!” at her.

“You don’t have to pretend I don’t know,” Darcy told them softly, his manner commanding even in this casual setting.

Elizabeth shared a look with Charlotte. “You don’t have a problem with it?” Elizabeth asked, her light tone of voice softening the directness of her question.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied easily, taking a sip of his tea, “but I’m pragmatic. I know I have about as much of a chance of stopping Charles and Jane from being together as I do of stopping a tour bus with my bare hands.”

“You didn’t seem too pleased last night,” Elizabeth observed.

“That was because I don’t want this becoming public,” he told her, looking over at Jane and Charles as they entered the dining room. “I don’t think any of us want to see them on the cover of
People
, right?”

Elizabeth had to concede he was correct in that. She nodded in agreement, pleasantly surprised at how well they were getting along.

The meal progressed smoothly. Elizabeth was confused to see Charlotte behaving in her usual fashion toward Richard. They were gossiping and joking as if last night had never happened. Elizabeth didn’t understand their relationship, and she worried for her friend. But it was clear that Charlotte wanted to continue the status quo, at least in public.

***

The following Tuesday brought the last night of a long string of performances. They had been traveling and playing for nine consecutive nights, and everyone was looking forward to a break. They were relieved to know they would then have two nights to crash before starting up again. Elizabeth was simply looking forward to getting to sleep in a hotel again. It was funny, she mused, how something as simple as a private room and a real bed could come to mean so much to her, but right now, it was the height of luxury and exactly what she desired.

She mused on these thoughts as she watched Charles and the dancer for the tour practice. The exotic-looking girl wound herself around Charles in a fashion displaying her extreme flexibility. Jane had never been jealous of the girl, as it was clear that Charles had no interest in her. During their weekly hair touch-up session, Sarah had informed them that Richard had bedded Lizbeth for a week or so during the first leg of the tour, which surprised no one.

“She was too obsessed with her own body,” Charlotte had explained cryptically, when asked by Elizabeth why it hadn’t lasted.

Elizabeth had been somewhat surprised to learn the name of the beautiful woman. She felt as exotic as white bread compared to the dancer in the skintight leather catsuit with whom she shared a name.

“So, tell me something,” Elizabeth asked Richard and Darcy, who were standing beside her offstage clearly enjoying the show even if they had no deeper interest in the girl.

Darcy turned his attention to her immediately. Elizabeth indicated the music playing and asked, “Did Charles write that?”

Darcy and Richard looked at each other and broke out in huge grins, which showed their family resemblance. The song blaring on the playback was “Bound,” a well-written, if somewhat shocking, song about sexual domination. The memorable chorus ran:

I wanna feel you smack my ass.

Elizabeth waited expectantly to be let in on the joke.

“No, actually,” Darcy finally replied. “Richard wrote the lyrics, I helped with the melody.”

Richard put his hand on his chest and bowed.

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Elizabeth said mockingly. “Do I dare ask why?” she grinned.

At this Richard and Darcy broke out laughing.

“What?” Elizabeth insisted.

Darcy pulled himself together. “We’ll tell you, but it’s a secret, okay?” He motioned her closer and placing a hand on her shoulder, said in a low tone, “The truth is we wrote it as a joke.”

Elizabeth looked at him, confused.

“We wanted to see if we could get Charles to say ‘Smack my ass’ a half-dozen times a night,” Richard chortled.

Elizabeth looked in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that,” she deadpanned.

“Well, it’s not all bad. After all, he gets Lizbeth writhing around him each night,” Richard said, somewhat defensively.

“Yeah, except you were the one who did her,” Darcy replied, chuckling.

Elizabeth was amazed. She had rarely seen Darcy so open and, well, playful. And she didn’t believe for a moment that the only reason Richard wrote that song was to pick on poor Charles. Still she had to admit the image was very amusing.

“Oh, come on!” Elizabeth said with mock scorn. “This is
Slurry
after all, I thought all three of you would do her together.”

Darcy made an “eww” face that Richard noticed and laughed at.

“You should know by now, Elizabeth, not to believe all the rumors,” Darcy said, his tone still light, but she could see his eyes had turned serious.

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, realizing he was correct. But somehow his answer only raised more questions in her mind. She wondered where those rumors had come from. And where was the wild bad-boy party band everyone claimed they were? So far, with the exception of Richard’s flavors, these guys had been the soul of respectability and professionalism.

***

Charlotte rolled her shoulders back, talking a long drag on her cigarette. She knew that Lizzy hated her smoking in their suite, but at this point she didn’t care. She stretched out on the couch, her head and fingers moving to their usual never-ending beat.

She heard a knock on the door and rolled her eyes, figuring Elizabeth had returned from her swim and had forgotten her room card again.
Honestly, hasn’t the woman ever heard of pockets?

She walked to the door, her feet continuing the rhythm that was playing on in her head. She opened the door and was turning away when she froze. The person at the door wasn’t Elizabeth but Richard. Her mouth fell open for a moment as the rhythm died, and then she shut it with a snap. “What are you doing here?” she asked coolly when she regained her composure.

Richard shrugged and answered, “Muhammad, mountain, you know.” He waited a moment in her silence, and then asked, “Can I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

Charlotte stepped back mechanically and pointed to the couch. Richard casually strolled over and sat down and waited for her to join him. He didn’t say anything when she sat down on the chair nearby, but his eyes registered that she had not sat beside him. He gazed at her as she lit another cigarette and looked at him expectantly.

Richard took a breath, believing it would be best to be direct as possible. “I was hoping I could spend the night with you,” he said with deliberate simplicity.

Charlotte felt a flash of anger with his words that ripped her control away from her. “What’s the problem? Couldn’t land a flavor?” she asked scornfully.

Her words hit him like a blow, but he didn’t flinch. “I don’t want a flavor, Charlotte. I want you,” he told her sincerely. “I want to be with someone I know, someone who likes me, who isn’t just sleeping with me to say that she scored a rock star. I want you, Charlotte,” he repeated, his eyes beseeching hers.

Charlotte was stunned as she realized what he was asking of her. She was deeply touched but wasn’t sure if she was able to accept him and what came with it. She looked away, thinking. “I don’t know. This is kinda surprising.”

“Char?” he asked softly, his eyes troubled.

Charlotte frowned as she tried to make sense of her feelings. “I just don’t know if it would be smart. I don’t know what to think, or what I am to you.” She fixed him with a look, and with a voice deep with earnestness said, “I would hate to think I was just a convenient lay.”

Richard’s eyes flared. “No! Charlotte! You of all people should know that!” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “You know as well as anyone that I can get sex anywhere, but I came here because I want to be with
you
.”

“But what am I to you?” she asked, her eyes demanding the truth. “Tell me, what am I? Where do I stand?”

He took the question with a seriousness that was atypical for him. “You are my friend, Charlotte. You are someone I enjoy being with. You laugh at my jokes, you tolerate my constant drumming, and you are someone I enjoy having sex with.” He paused, thinking. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Charlotte, and I see that I have. If I misunderstood or misled you, I’m sorry.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No, you have always been,” she took a deep breath, “very direct. It’s me.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked cautiously.

Charlotte looked down again. “No, it’s nothing, I was just trying to make more of something than it is.”

“Charlotte,” he said, his voice unguarded, “don’t put our relationship down. You are very special to me. You are one of the closest friends I have, and I really love being with you.”

Charlotte looked at him carefully, studying his open face, fully admitting all his strengths and limitations.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asked softly.

Charlotte wasn’t able to keep eye contact. “No, I hurt myself.”

“I’m sorry, really I am. But I can’t be what I’m not. It would be worse for both of us if I tried.”

She grinned sadly and nodded. “I know.”

Richard looked uncomfortable and started to move. “I better go then.”

“Wait,” she said in a firm, quiet voice. “Wait a moment. You don’t have to leave.”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

She frowned thoughtfully. “I’m sure. Look, Richard, I know I can’t have you for myself. Hell,” she shrugged, “I’m not sure I would want you all to myself.” She looked at him and smiled briefly. “But I do know that I like it when I’m with you. I like the way I feel when I’m with you, and I would rather have some time with you than not at all.”

Richard looked at her silently for a long time, assessing what she had said, his face expressionless as he tried to cope with feelings that were both surprising and disturbing. He didn’t understand why he felt so needy or threatened.

After a minute Charlotte smiled gently at him. “Would you still like some company for the night?”

Richard nodded slowly. “Yes, very much so,” he said in a low whisper. He realized that perversely he was seeking comfort in the place that was troubling him the most, and he was amused at the irony of it.

“Come on,” said Charlotte, rising, “I think we should go to your suite. I don’t think Lizzy would like hearing us in the middle of the night.”

Richard grinned wickedly, his good spirits returning. “Oh, I have a way of keeping you quiet.”

Charlotte grinned back, recognizing the sexy tone of his voice. “And what might that be?” she asked provocatively.

“Why, by putting something in your mouth, of course.”

“Oh,” Charlotte sighed, her voice deep and breathy, “I think I like that idea.”

***

Long Borne Suffering and Alex left early the next morning, long before the regular morning meeting. They were flying to NYC, where they would do
Top 20
, and then they would return that evening. Charles and Caroline had been the only ones to see them off; everyone else on the tour was still in bed.

Charles turned from waving at the departing limo and faced Caroline. “No point in going back to bed. Would you like to get some coffee?”

Caroline smiled. Time alone with Charles was always a rare commodity on tour and lately it had become nonexistent, due to all the time he was spending with Jane. Together they walked to the empty dining room, filled their cups, and sat down.

“It will be weird having the morning meeting without them. I’m amazed at how quickly they’ve become part of the group,” Caroline said easily.

“Yeah,” Charles smiled his Jane smile. “They’re pretty special.”

Caroline looked at him, understanding everything he said and didn’t say. “You seem happy.”

“I am,” he answered thoughtfully. “Happier than I’ve ever been before.” He smiled at his sister. “And I have you to thank for finding her.”

Caroline smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “Oh, I wanted to tell you before I forgot. I heard from Dad’s lawyer. They have set a date for his hearing.”

Charles face became serious immediately as he nodded.

“We’re lucky. It’s right after Georgie’s graduation, so we’ll be off that week. We can help him move back home and get settled in. I talked to Darcy and it’s all set.”

“Do you think he’s going to get parole?”

Caroline nodded confidently. “I spoke to his lawyer and he assured me he would. It’s pretty standard in cases like his.”

Charles released a long sigh. “Good.”

“Charles,” Caroline said, her tone uneasy, “don’t tell anyone.”

He stared into her eyes, “You mean Jane?”

Caroline looked down and nodded. “Darcy said it’s too soon, and I agree with him. We have worked too hard to keep this quiet and I don’t want this hitting the press right now, not when Dad’s about to be released.”