was a city daily open to a picture of Charles, smiling, his arm around the shoulder of a scantily clad actress. The caption informed them that the picture was from the De Bourgh party the night before.
Elizabeth looked from the picture to Jane. “I’m sure this doesn’t mean anything, Jane.”
“It doesn’t really matter either way, Lizzy.” Her voice was quiet and her gaze inward. “I knew Charles was breaking up with me. This picture doesn’t make any difference.”
“Jane, he’s not,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I’m sorry. I should have told you before. Darcy told me what’s going on. Charles, um, it’s not what you think.” She frowned, frustrated. “Look, it’s something bad about his father, and while I know what it is, I really think he should tell you, because it’s personal. But I can say it’s nothing about you and him.”
Jane looked at her a long time. “He still should have told me. I’m tired of being told he loves me and to trust him, when all I’m getting shown is that he doesn’t trust me. And frankly, I
“Jane, I don’t think they left because of romantic problems with the band,” Elizabeth objected gently, while Charlotte’s mouth twisted into a smile at the idea.
“No, but they probably left because they found out what we have: that Slurry is destructive, to themselves and to anyone around them.”
“Jane?”
“Think about it. I know you were making a joke, Charlotte, but you were right. They have hurt all of us, badly. We aren’t the same as we were before the tour. We used to be so strong. And now look at us. Richard has dragged you through the mud, Charlotte. Lizzy just got her heart handed to her on a plate, and even Charles,” her voice broke here, and she stopped to pull herself together. “I can’t sing ‘Everything You Are’ tonight,” she announced finally. “It means too much to me.”
Elizabeth felt Jane’s words like a blow. “What?”
Alex snapped, “Jane!”
“No, I can’t. These men, all of them, they have done nothing but hurt us. They are destroying us.”
“What do you want to sing, Jane?” Charlotte asked quietly.
“‘The Longest Good-bye.’”
Elizabeth took Jane’s hand and squeezed it.
“You know if you do that, De Bourgh will have just cause for terminating your contract,” Alex informed them. “Anne’s been looking for a reason to get rid of you since the mess with Collins. You’ll be giving her one on a silver platter.”
The three women all shared a look of determination. “We know, Alex,” Jane told him softly.
It was seven when their call came. Elizabeth, Jane, and Charlotte were dressed, warmed up, and ready. Nervously, they held their instrument cases in their hands as they descended in the hotel elevator.
The tension was palpable as they walked through the lobby, regal as queens, to the doors and their waiting limo. Once safely ensconced in the car, they shared a sigh of relief. They had all feared an encounter with Slurry, but the men were nowhere to be seen.
Fate was playing a bizarre game of chance, keeping the paths of the two groups from crossing until it was too late. LBS went to the theater and settled into the pre-show green room. Then Slurry left the hotel to enter the Music Hall in a flash of cameras.
Charles was on tenterhooks. He had not been able to reach or even see Jane all day. She would not answer her phone at the hotel, and he was beginning to wonder if something was wrong. He had even cast off his chronic lateness trying to reach his beloved Jane.
Slurry sat in their prestige seats, close to the stage in the large auditorium of the Music Hall. A large screen was lowered over the stage to allow the audience to watch the pre-show.
The men had given up talking to each other; Charles was too nervous over Jane, Darcy was sulking, and Richard was too annoyed with Darcy. Caroline and Anne, both looking elegant in evening gowns, sat with them, shepherding the men.
Slurry’s attention locked on the screen when the last act of the pre-show was announced. Their personal feelings were too intense to share with each other, but each was glued to a woman taking the stage.
LBS had changed their look for the VMAs. Richard’s jaw dropped when he saw Charlotte. Gone was her short blue hair. She had let it grow out slightly and it was now dyed a soft black with a slight purple undertone. Her makeup was different too. It was softened and the overall effect was pretty, where before it was hard. She wore her trademark black, upgraded to a neat top and slim pants.
Elizabeth’s long mane had been carefully dyed, so her rich brown now had a coppery sheen. She was wearing a white, textured vest and white jeans with brown sandals.
Jane was the least changed. Her platinum locks were shorter and arranged in beautiful curls that fell around her face. She wore a white leather mini-dress that showed off her flat stomach and long legs.
The spell that the women’s appearance worked on the men was broken with the first notes Elizabeth played. Instead of the quick, light melody they were expecting, a slow, dark song began. Charles’s smile was wiped away and he looked on in confused horror as Jane sang.
Darcy closed his eyes against the vision before him, but it didn’t block the song from reaching his ears. Their playing was perfect; he had never heard them better. He opened his eyes against his will, and again he saw the deep sadness in his Elizabeth’s eyes.
He grew sick with the knowledge that he had done this. Only the harsh curse of Anne sitting nearby could reach him.
“Those bitches!” she spat. “I don’t know what those whores think they are doing, but they just ended their career!” Her cell phone rang and she answered it. “Yes, Mother. I will, don’t worry!”
“Anne, wait!” Darcy spoke suddenly. “Let me talk to Lady Catherine.”
Anne glared at him, but reluctantly passed over the phone. Darcy took it and spoke quickly, “Lady Catherine?”
“Darcy?”
“Yes, it’s me. Don’t terminate them. It’s my fault they are doing this. Don’t blame them.”
Catherine’s voice was clearly surprised. “Darcy, I don’t understand what is going on here, but the fact of the matter is those girls are not performing what they were told to do.” She clicked her tongue. “I cannot tolerate that.”
“Lady Catherine,” Darcy said, his voice becoming desperate as Charles’s horrified eyes focused on him. “Please don’t terminate them. We need them for our tour. We cannot get another opening act; you know that.”
Catherine mulled. “I don’t like this, Darcy. Not at all.”
