Elizabeth nodded as she absently flipped through a magazine. She could feel his eyes on her. “What?”
“Nothing.” But before Elizabeth could protest, he quickly asked, “Do you love him?”
“Didn’t we already have this conversation? I told you what I felt over the phone.” Her voice was unusually cool.
“He just doesn’t seem to be your type,” Alex replied sullenly. “I would hate to have you selling out because of the money or something.”
“Alex, do I need to find another manager? Is this too much?” Elizabeth asked, her voice flat, her eyes narrowed. “It was never a question of choosing him over you. We were never going to work. You knew that, didn’t you?”
Alex swallowed and nodded. “I know, Lizzy, and you don’t have to get a new manager. I’m okay with it.”
Elizabeth nodded, not completely convinced but willing to let it go. It was only then that she realized that she had chosen her relationship with Darcy over her professional relationship with Alex. As they waited, she studied him, weighing the emotional distance between them. It had been a long time since she had felt affection for him, but now she realized how little she had shared with Alex and how much she could have with Darcy. She was a little sad to acknowledge it, but she also knew she was much better off.
A ferry took them to an island a couple of miles offshore. It was owned by a luxury resort, which is where they would be staying overnight. The resort complex used up only about a quarter of the land, with a small airstrip the only other structure. The remainder of the land was left open and undeveloped. Elizabeth had to admit it was beautiful, and a part of her wished that Darcy had come down.
The warm smile on her face was wiped away as they drove to the set and Wickham met their cars. George was looking good. His hair had been further lightened and his skin was deeply tanned. He was wearing a beige shirt and crisp white linen shorts. He greeted the women warmly, giving Elizabeth the same extra attention he had the last time.
He explained that today they would be doing action shots in the water, and then they would have a night shot on the beach, and tomorrow they would finish up with the concert shots.
As Jane and Charlotte were led away to wardrobe, George stopped Elizabeth. She forced herself to smile at George. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to know how you are doing. It’s been awhile.”
“Not that long,” she teased. “I’ve been good.”
“Yeah, you look great.”
“Thanks.”
“So, have you been busy?” he asked hopefully.
“Actually, I have. I’m in a new relationship now.”
“Oh?” his eyebrows peeked out over his sunglasses. “Lucky guy. Anyone I know?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s a classical musician.”
His expression was hidden behind his sunglasses. “That’s great, Lizzy. I’m happy for you.”
Elizabeth smiled and left for wardrobe, pleased that the initial confrontation was over.
Darcy looked down at his guitar, carefully strumming the new melody. A few bars later he heard Richard’s voice singing. It was different; Richard’s voice was gravelly compared to Charles, but it was his song. As soon as they read the words, they understood that Richard had to sing it.
They stood in their studio, playing together, the way they had for years. The differences, Richard singing and a studio musician, Mike Hurst, on drums, were of no consequence as the men lost themselves in the creative process.
“You know, we could thicken this up with some keyboards,” Charles observed when they finished.
Darcy and Richard shared a grin, knowing full well the pretty keyboard player on Charles’s mind. It was a gentle grin. Each one of them was in the same place, thinking about a lady far away.
“I’ve got something else I’d like to work on,” Darcy told them, pulling out sheets of music.
And so the day passed into evening. The three members of Slurry found themselves easy in each other’s company, quitting the studio and returning to the loft, eating pizza and watching movies. Around eleven they began to grow quiet, then fidgety. Charles extracted his cell phone and checked that it was on and charged, resting it on the couch beside him. Darcy got his cordless and placed it on the floor next to him.
Richard frowned. “Did you give Lizzy your cell number or the loft’s?”
“The loft’s,” Darcy said darkly.
“Why didn’t you give her your cell? Charlotte is calling the loft.”
“Because it’s my house!” Darcy replied. “Why didn’t you tell Charlotte to call your cell?”
The ringing of Charles’s phone interrupted the fight; Darcy and Richard watched, eyes wide, until Charles said, “Hi, Jane,” loudly, for their benefit. Charles got up and moved into the library as the landline rang.
“Lizzy?” Darcy answered.
“No,” a laughing voice answered, “it’s Charlotte.”
“Hi, Charlotte, hang on.” Darcy said sullenly, passing the phone to Richard.
Richard took the phone and, covering the mouthpiece with his hand, told Darcy, “Call Liz on your cell,” before speaking into the phone.
Darcy was up in a heartbeat, grabbing his cell and dialing Elizabeth’s number as he went into his bedroom and closed the door.
“Hello?” a very confused-sounding Elizabeth answered.
“It’s me. Charlotte and Richard are on the landline.”
“Oh good. I tried calling and couldn’t get through.” He could hear the relief in her voice. “How are you doing?”
“Terrible,” Jane moaned. “I’m bruised all over.”
“Baby, what happened?” Charles asked imploringly.
“Promise you won’t hate me?”
“She can’t surf!” Charlotte replied. “Oh my God, I lost count how many times she fell off the dumb surfboard just paddling out.”
Richard laughed. “And how did you do?”
“I’m a surfing natural,” she grinned.
“That’s my girl.”
“So then what happened?” Charles asked.
“Oh, George finally gave up on the surfing thing and had us cliff diving instead,” Jane said wearily.
“How did that go?” Charles sounded dubious.
“Well, it was more jumping off rocks than actually diving. I tried to do a real dive, but then George said they couldn’t see my face.”
Darcy smiled, warmed by her voice. “I hate to admit it, but he’s right about that. How has he been treating you?”
“Fine,” Elizabeth shrugged. “I told him I was in a new relationship and he’s totally left me alone.”
“Good, I’m glad that’s all over. So how was the night shoot?”
“Boring,” Jane said tiredly. “They got a bunch of guests from the resort to be extras and had us playing around a bonfire on the beach.”
“Oh, that sounds lame,” Richard scoffed.
“Tell me about it,” Charlotte agreed. “George has changed. You can tell.”
“How?” he demanded.
