questions. “It has a great sound,” he complimented her sincerely.
“Thanks,” she replied, pleased, puzzled, and a bit uncomfortable. “Um, I’m Elizabeth Bennet.” She was slightly annoyed that she had been reduced to introducing herself.
“Oh, yes.” He paused. “Nice to meet you,” he responded belatedly. He released the strap on the guitar and presented it to her.
Holding the instrument like a shield, she asked, “Why are you here?”
Jane Bennet was sipping warm water as she hummed softly to herself.
“Hi,” a soft voice spoke behind her.
Jane turned to find herself in the company of a tall, handsome man with white blond hair, tan skin, and dark blue eyes. “Hello,” she replied.
“I’m Charles Bingley,” he said, smiling.
Jane smiled brightly back and held out her hand, “I’m Jane Bennet. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” he replied, delighted by her touch. “I really liked your song. Did you write it?”
“Yes, I did,” she blushed becomingly. “Thank you.”
With every second, Charles was becoming more bewitched. The angel named Jane was dressed like a siren. He took in every detail, from her finely arched brow, to her bare shoulders, to her delicate hands, and he desired her body. Yet her every word and look was completely open and innocent. Her expression was warm and her laugh infectious. A mixture of sex and purity had come together in a package that was swiftly becoming irresistible.
“Did you write it about someone?” he asked openly, incapable of guile.
Jane shook her head slightly. “No, I wrote it more about wanting an ideal so much that it becomes an obsession. I’ve never been in love that deeply, and I’m not really sure it’s possible, but I’ve dreamed about it.” Her eyes met his shyly, as if she suddenly realized how openly she was sharing herself. “Do I know you, Charles? You seem very familiar.”
Charles blushed slightly. “I sing too.”
“Oh,” Jane nodded. “Is that where I know you from?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “Let me take down my hair.” He moved his hands and a moment later a blond, wavy cloud surrounded his face.
“Oh, yes,” Jane smiled playfully. “Slurry, right?”
“Yes,” he smiled back. “Would you like to sing with me, Jane?” he asked shyly.
Charlotte was standing by the stage door, enjoying her post-show cigarette. She smiled as she inhaled lightly.
Footsteps on the cement floor alerted her to a man approaching her. He was tall and handsome, in an easy, casual way; long brown hair falling in loose curls, blue eyes, strong shoulders, and a trim figure. Charlotte couldn’t help but smile at eye candy like that. He walked up to her and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Fitzwilliam.”
“Charlotte Lucas,” she replied, carefully shaking around her cigarette. “Do you mind?” she asked.
“No, not at all,” he assured her easily. “Mind if I join you?”
Charlotte nodded and made room for him by the door. As Richard lit up, he took a moment to study her. She was average in most ways. Average height, average build, average looks. The only thing that really stood out was her hair, which was short and spiked, with white-gold tips, showing up against the light brown of the rest of it.
“So, I heard you play,” he said easily after a moment. “You’re very good.”
“Thanks,” Charlotte smiled. She’d recognized his name and was puzzled why a major rock band was here but was willing to let the man tell his story.
“So, my band is on tour and we need a warm-up act.” He looked at her slightly sideways. “Would you be interested in that?”
Charlotte watched the way one half of his mouth curled up and mentally drooled.
“Yeah,” Richard assured her. “Caro is talking to him now.”
“Caro?”
“Caroline Bingley,” he explained. “She is our tour manager. Everyone calls her Caro. You’ll like her.”
Charlotte took another drag and nodded easily. “Sounds good.”
Alex Lucas listened impassively to Caroline Bingley. The woman was very friendly and professional, and the offer she was making was very good—too good.
“We start up the tour again in two weeks. Your group would have that time for rehearsal. We have arranged for practice space, a choreographer, and a stylist to get them ready.”
“What would be expected from the band?” Alex asked.
“They will be expected to perform a thirty-minute set at the start of each show. Generally that would work out to be six songs. They will also be expected to participate in any promotions that are done for the shows.”
Alex bristled inside but was careful not to let it show. He had been managing bands for ten years, and he knew how many songs were in a thirty-minute set. He pushed his annoyance down. This was far too important a deal to lose his temper over.
As Caroline continued selling her deal, Darcy, Bingley, and Richard stood together, talking softly.
“Do you really think they can do it?” Richard asked.
“What choice do we have?” Darcy said blackly. “They can play and they’re available.”
“I think they are wonderful,” Charles objected.
“You think the girl is wonderful, Charles.”
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” he asked, not perceiving the acid in Darcy’s tone.
Elizabeth was carrying her instrument cases to her truck, oblivious to the negotiations as she passed by. Then she heard Darcy’s voice rise above the murmur, catching her attention.
“Let me make this clear to both of you. If these girls come with us, they’re there to play. They are not going to be anyone’s personal playthings, got me?”
“Darcy!” Charles replied, his voice echoing the shock Elizabeth felt.
“No, Charles! Listen, these girls are just starting out. They’re not prepared for what’s going to happen to them. Christ! They don’t even have people to set up and break down the stage for them.
“When they get on this tour, they’re going to get a taste of a completely different world. Once they do, they’ll try to do anything to hang on to it—and that would definitely include us.” His tone was flat and ugly. “So I’m only going to say this once: keep your dicks clean.”
Elizabeth was shocked beyond words. The breath left her lungs as she was stung by what she had heard. Silently she moved away from the trio and back into the dressing room where Jane and Charlotte were packing and excitedly discussing their visitors.
“Lizzy!” Charlotte exclaimed upon seeing the flabbergasted look on her face. “What happened?”
Elizabeth repeated Darcy’s warning verbatim, causing Jane to gasp in shock and Charlotte to swear under her breath.
Elizabeth just shook her head in amazement, trying to understand why that man would say such an outrageous thing about them. Then the absurdity of it struck her. Elizabeth covered her face, which was quickly getting red, with her hand. “Damn it, they think we’re whores!” she squeaked between her fingers until she could no longer control herself and broke out in laughter. “Charlotte! Don’t you get it? They think we’re morally loose women who are a threat to them!
“Well, you know, we are just so hot! We could totally make them our slaves,” Charlotte took up the charge. “Because, after all, we’re only here for their money!”
“And their drugs!” Jane piped in loudly. “I don’t know about you, but I want some of those party drugs they
