There. She’d pulled it off.
“I’m sure it feels great to see your hard work pay off, having one of the top five country albums of the year,” Serena continued, her focus intent and unwavering, glued to Juliet’s face.
It would have felt better if she’d won, that was for damn sure.
“It really does. I put so much of myself intoWhiskey and White Lace, and to see the reception – to see it up with all of those other incredible artists – it’s such a rewarding moment.”
Which wasn’t a lie.
AfterBackyard StarsandEchoeshad completely fizzled, panned by critics, quickly forgotten by listeners, Juliet had what she was forced to qualify as somewhat of a nervous breakdown.
Who was she, then? She’d poured everything she had into making this happen since before she could even remember, in all of the pageants and talent shows her mother shuttled her to since she’d been able to walk.
Sure, she’d been cute as a damn button parading around on those stages. But, even as a kid, the show stopped when she sang. Every time, she knew she’d captured the win just from the look on the judge’s faces, from the response from the audience.
When her mom had married Harrison Jacobs – a man who had money and connections – she’d gone from talent shows and pageants to more serious pursuits. Intensive lessons with voice coaches, piano and guitar instructors, getting homeschooled so she could put all of her focus on music. Onmaking it.
HadPassing Notes, the album she’d debuted as a fresh-faced seventeen, really been her peak? The highest reach of her career?
Whiskey and White Lacemeant the world to her, and the response had been everything she could have hoped for. No, everything she’d craved, what she’d needed.
“And on the night of your twenty-sixth birthday, too,” Serena commented, bringing her back into the moment.
It was her birthday, and that made her loss sting even more. She’d been hoping for some birthday magic tonight.
“Yeah–” Her response was drowned out by the burst of noise and energy that came from behind her, the side door opening again. Both Juliet and Serena’s attentions turned to the steady stream of people filtering out, and –
There she was.
Darcy Kincaid, in all of herglory.
Juliet hated every single thing about her.
She hated her startlingly green eyes.
She hated her blonde hair that was perfectly styled but also looked so damn good whenever she was pictured out and about, all messy-casual.
She hated her sharp jaw and her full lips.
She hated how curvy she was, and how she seemed to have no problem showing it off, all of the fucking time.
She hated Darcy’s powerful, throaty voice, and the catchy songs she wrote.
And she’d done everything in her power to avoid being in the same place as this woman since she’d learned of her existence six months ago.
“Of course, yours isn’t the only twenty-sixth birthday tonight. How is that for ironic?” Serena asked, a tittering laugh on her lips.
Juliet turned her attention away from Darcy, feeling this now-familiar buzzing, burning feeling slide through her veins. The feeling she got every time she was reminded of Darcy’s very existence.
“It’s sure… something,” she managed, her voice tighter than she’d have preferred.
But Juliet wasn’t a fucking actress, was she? Normally, she could put on a good – no, a great – public face.
When she wasn’t confronted with her nemesis standing less than ten feet away. Her nemesis who couldn’t let her haveonething tonight, not even her own birthday.
“With Copper Canyon signing We, The Romantics for a new album, I’d imagine that you’re familiar with the group.” Serena laughed again, that light, fake sound that made Juliet want to scowl at her.
She didn’t, but she wanted to.
