Had Shelby’s housekeeper – or whoever she was – given Darcy her number?!HadJuliet started telling people, tonight of all nights, that she was a lesbian?!
Adrenaline rushed through her, her heart rate picking up in her chest. Her face felt hot.
She’d known something was coming. She’dknown, and yet –
All of the tumult inside of her came to a screeching halt as she flipped the paper open. In that same script that her name was written in, was an address. And four other random numbers across the bottom of the paper, whatever that was.
Darcy whipped out her phone so hastily, she nearly flung it from her hand across the room, as she searched the location of that address.
It was another house in the Hills, about four miles away. No way the woman who’d just given Darcy this paper could own that house; Darcy couldn’t even afford that house.
Sheknewit was Juliet’s home, even without a single shred of evidence on the paper to support her theory.
Rolling her eyes down at the address, she shoved the paper in the pocket of her jumpsuit.
Mind game,she reminded herself. For all she knew, she was going to show up, and Juliet would drop pig’s blood on her or something.
She wasn’t going to go; she wasn’t an idiot.
No matter what anyone would be able to say about her once her career was over and done, the number one thing that Darcy had forced into her mind was this: she would not allow Juliet to be her downfall.
She belonged here.
Chapter Fourteen
Juliet prowled around her foyer.
She’d gone from heated anticipation to restless frustration in the last hour.
Where the hellwasDarcy?
She’d asked Erin to let her know when Darcy left Shelby’s, under the guise of keeping tabs on her competition. Erin had beenbiginto gossip tonight – unsurprising – and she’d wanted to know every little detail about her feud with Darcy, as well as their “Porchlight” collab.
She’d given Erin her tried-and-true smile, wide innocent eyes, as she’d informed her, “It’s all behind us, now.”
First, because that was the party line, now. Juliet had pushed against that line when it came to Darcy, but she knew when to stop. Even if she hated Darcy with a burning passion, she was done with the “feud.”
Second, though, because she didn’t wish for Darcy’s guitar-and-piano-playing hands to be maimed, anymore. She no longer hoped that Darcy’s temptingly soft-looking lips would develop some sort of painful rash that prevented her from singing another note.
She wished to see what else those hands could do. And she hoped to see what else her mouth was capable of.
The bathroom at the studio had been her own little test. Checking in on a little hypothesis that perhaps –perhaps– Darcy was just as attracted to Juliet as she was to Darcy.
If she’d pulled off her shirt and Darcy had been completely disinterested: okay, then. But she hadn’t. She’dstared. She’d stared, and she’d licked her lips, and the color had risen in her cheeks, and Darcywanted her.
Juliet couldn’t remember when the stars had aligned for her perfect trifecta:
a woman who was also closeted in in the industry, and therefore had something to lose, just like she did, if it got out
a woman who was unattached