Goingto Juliet’s tonight wasmarkedlydifferent than the last time.
Tonight, Darcy hadn’t been able to get to her hotel fast enough. She’d shared a car with Emerson, Blythe, and Colton, who’d made the journey to join as Blythe’s date tonight.
And Darcy, genuinely, really liked her future brother-in-law. Actually, she loved the guy. She already considered him a part of her family; she’d shared a bathroom with him since she’d been a teenager.
His excitement had been one of her highlights tonight.
But damn, he wanted to chat alot.
They’d all gathered in Darcy’s hotel suite. Normally, she liked that. She, Blythe, and Emerson almost always convened in her room. She was often the nexus, and she liked that. She was also always the one down to hang out as late as either her sister or best friend wanted to.
Tonight, the first thing she’d done was go into her bedroom and peel herself out of the dress, after having Emerson unzip her. Tonight, an award night, paparazzi were everywhere, and she needed to be as incognito as possible.
She’d changed into a sweatshirt and jeans, pulled her hair into a ponytail, wiped off her excess makeup. Then had returned to the living area to find that Colton had poured them all glasses of champagne.
“I know you didn’t win best song, but… who cares! That was soawesome. And so much better being here in person!” His golden retriever was showing.
Blythe kissed his cheek, plucking the glass from him. “Glad you had a good time, babe.”
He nodded exuberantly. He’d been out to L.A. with them a handful of times this past year, but never for Big Events. They hadn’t gone to many yet, to be fair, and Colton – bless his heart – hadn’t quit or drawn back on his hours working on his construction crew. He’d offered to take time off to accompany Blythe to anything she wanted, but her sister had always shrugged.
She wanted to go home to Colton, far more than she wanted him here in L.A.
“And Juliet – she seemed really nice when she won. Do we still hate her? We don’t, right?” He double-checked, turning his attention to Darcy.
“We don’t hate her,” she agreed, feeling a smidge guilty for wanting desperately to rush everyone out of her room.
Colton had, really, been the most patient one with her during her feud with Juliet. Blythe had wanted her to ignore Juliet and “take back her power.” Emerson had wanted her to rise above. Colton, sweet Colton, had listened to her repetitive complaints with a furrowed brow and encouraging nods.
“Still don’t love to see her win, though,” Blythe cut in with a shrug.
“Right,” Colton agreed.
Darcy had – always,always– wanted to win. That sharp need to prove herself, to have the accolades to back her up… she didn’t think it would ever fade.
“If we had to lose, I’d want it to be losing to ‘Violet Magnolia’ though,” she stated, referencing Juliet’s winning song, before nonchalantly taking a sip of her own champagne.
Blythe turned to her, eyes narrowed. “What?”
She swallowed her drink, holding up her free hand in defense. “I told you, Juliet and I are fine, now. And I’d genuinely rather lose to a song I thinkisreally good than some of the other contenders.”
Darcy had always been a voracious listener. Listening to everything from oldies right up to brand new releases. She was very familiar with all of the other artists listed in every category.
And, regardless of whether she and Juliet had ever had sex, shedidrespect Juliet’s talent. “Violet Magnolia” had been her favorite song fromWhiskey and White Lace, which she’d listened to right when it had dropped for release.
“I agree. With Darcy, that is,” Emerson piped up, from where she sat on the couch, quietly drawing her index finger around the rim of her glass. “I mean, I’d love to talk to Riann Sims about his collaboration with her for the music.”
Blythe stopped and stared. “Damn. Well, ifyousay you actively would like to go and talk to someone about something, I’m going to fold right away.”
“You never fold right away when I disagree with you,” Darcy pointed out.
“Because you’d go toe-to-toe with most people over just about anything,” Blythe shot back with an incredulous snort. “Emerson only ever says what she means and means what she says.”
Darcy… well, she couldn’t argue with it. She came up behind Emerson on the couch, giving her a quick, warm squeeze onthe shoulder. Emerson was wearing a high-necked, long-sleeved dress that spoke of a quiet elegance, and she still had it on from the award show.
Emerson reached up and gently patted at Darcy’s hand, as she took one more sip from her champagne before placing it on the table next to her. “Well… that’s it for me. I think I’m going to take some melatonin and call it a night.”
“Already?” Colton asked, crestfallen. “We could all go out and do something?”
