“It’s like he doesn’t care. He wasn’t paying much attention to the shooting, and the crew clearly had no respect for him.”
“It’s like everyone is just going through the motions here. I don’t think the video will be very good.”
Darcy sighed. “Just get it done and come home, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth smiled. “That’s what I’m doing, my love. What did you do today?”
“We worked on some new songs today.”
Jane sounded pleased. “Will we get to hear them when we get back?”
Charles smiled, recalling the content of the two love songs. “I guarantee it.”
“When?”
“So, um, tomorrow night.”
Charlotte was puzzled by Richard’s tone. If she didn’t know better, she would swear he was almost shy. But that was ridiculous, she told herself. Richard Fitzwilliam had never had a shy day in his life.
“Yes?” she said encouragingly.
“Do you think we could get together and, um, talk?”
Charlotte stopped breathing. Struggling, she laughed weakly. “Richard, we’ve been talking every night.”
“I meant face-to-face. I want to see you, Char.”
“I’m never going to sleep tonight,” Darcy complained.
“I know. Why do they make these beds so huge?”
“Do you forgive me for this morning?”
Elizabeth had to think a moment to remember what he was referring to, and then she smiled brightly. “Of course I do.” She laughed. “Can I tell you something?”
Darcy’s voice warmed. “Anything.”
“Well, this is a little gross, but I um, I kind of liked it. All morning long I would catch little whiffs of you in my hair. It was nice,” she said in a very small voice.
Darcy grinned. “I found one of your long Lizzy hairs on my guitar today.”
Elizabeth laughed. “How did it get there?”
“I don’t know, but I liked it. It’s like having a ‘Property of Elizabeth’ sign on me.”
“I love you,” Jane cooed.
“I love you too, angel.” Charles sounded lonely. “I wish you were here. Let’s not ever do anything stupid, like go on separate tours, all right?”
“Charles, I could never do that,” Jane answered without thinking. She paused, realizing what she said and was stunned by the implications. “Oh!”
“Jane?” He was concerned by the emotion in her voice. He wished he were there with her. “Jane, it’s okay. We’ll talk about it when you get back, but it’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice was a weak whisper.
“Darling, I’m certain. I lost you once and I am not going to do that again. We’ll work it out. We always do.”
Jane closed her eyes to the sound of his voice and let it soothe her.
“I’ll meet you at the airport?”
Charlotte looked down to see her fingers trembling. She clenched her fist to stop them. “Yes,” she answered, wishing her voice was stronger.
“Great.” He sounded relieved.
“Richard?” she called out plaintively.
“Yes?” His answer was quick and ready.
“I… I miss you.”
He closed his eyes against the desperation in her voice. “I miss you too, Char. I’ve missed you so much. There are so many things I want to tell you.” He made a conscious decision to stop talking. He longed to say those three little words to her, but he wanted to see her face, to hold her when he said it. Instead he told her, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Char.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I never knew one night could be so long, Elizabeth.”
“Me neither. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Sleep well, angel.”
“You too, love.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Elizabeth found herself in the strange position of growing tired of her own song as she heard the playback once again.
While the previous video was filmed with a sense of order and precision, this one seemed to be thrown together in a haphazard fashion. The day had started out well enough, with filming Elizabeth in an RV. But it had since gone downhill. After a half-dozen takes of the band playing together while sitting on the sand, Elizabeth was now being asked to writhe about on the beach while a camera filmed her from overhead. She was quickly losing patience with it all.
She found her attention drifting back to Darcy and all the things she wanted to do with him back in New York. This would be the last night of the break. Tomorrow they were scheduled for the first of three nights at Madison Square Garden, then a day off, and then they were back on the road.
Elizabeth’s eyes drifted over to Charlotte, who was smoking again. Elizabeth realized that she had been smoking every time Elizabeth had seen her today, except when they were filming, and wondered what was wrong. Charlotte was being uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn, and Elizabeth strongly suspected that returning to the tour was weighing heavily on her mind as well.
Elizabeth sighed. No matter what happened, Elizabeth couldn’t see a happy course for her. With a flash, she realized that Charlotte was now in the same boat she had been in for most of the tour—the only one not in a relationship—and Elizabeth’s heart filled with empathy for her friend.
The pleasant creativity that had prevailed the day before for Slurry was long gone by the next morning. In a strange twist of behavior, Richard was the first one up. Darcy woke to the smell of coffee and was surprised to find his cousin up and dressed.
With a puzzled look, Darcy sat on the bar stool beside his cousin and poured the tea that Richard had thoughtfully made.
“Okay, spill,” Darcy said shortly.
“What? It’s after ten already. What’s the problem with a man not wanting to sleep the day away?”
Darcy studied him impassively, took a sip of his tea, and said, “So, it’s Charlotte then?”
“Jesus
“What did she say last night?” Darcy asked calmly.
“She said she missed me,” Richard answered automatically. “And I almost blew it.” He closed his eyes and slammed his fist on the counter. “What if I screw up?” he demanded, his voice bordering on desperate.
Darcy lifted an eyebrow. “Richard, you already screwed up. What you really mean is ‘What if Charlotte doesn’t want to love an alcoholic and sex addict,’ right?”
Richard gave him a black look. “I hate it when you’re like this.”
