Darcy in Hollywood

No doubt the paparazzi around the gate were in a feeding frenzy. Their seven-day vigil was about to pay off. Had any of Darcy’s fans heard yet? A big crowd would probably assemble at the police station, eager to watch him get manhandled out of a car in handcuffs.

Why had they stopped?

His phone rang again. Burton.

He put the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

“Will, they’ve canceled the warrant.”

“What?” This news was almost as hard to believe as the previous call had been.

“They’re not coming to arrest you after all.”

That would explain why the cars had stopped. “Why?”

“I don’t have all the information, but apparently someone came to the station with a recording from the witness, Flip Markham, in which he admits Wickham paid him to say you were driving the car.”

He felt a little lightheaded. It was as if the Tooth Fairy had delivered an early Christmas present wrapped by the Easter Bunny. “Who?” Darcy croaked. Who brought the recording?

“Some name I don’t recognize. Apparently someone who knows Markham. Garrett Cho?”

Suddenly weak-kneed, Darcy groped around for the nearest chair and fell into it with a dull thud. Garrett. Of all people… Garrett had come through for him.

On the driveway, the second police car was making a slow three-point turn. The first was already heading back to the street, and the third was waiting until the others were clear.

Burton continued. “The case isn’t closed; the police will interview the witnesses, but it looks promising.”

Thank God. Darcy glanced down at his hands and saw they were shaking violently.

Outside the window, the last of the police cars disappeared from view. “Once you’re cleared, you’ll be able to talk to the Bennet family. A little birdy told me you might be sweet on one of the daughters.”

Elizabeth…

Darcy hurriedly stomped on nascent tendrils of hope. Would she even want to speak with him? Yes, she had wanted to talk when the whole shitstorm had broken, but he’d rejected her rather brutally—and she’d had plenty of time for second thoughts since then. Even if Darcy was definitively cleared, Elizabeth had been through hell. Surely she would decide she was better off without the complications his media profile would bring to her life.

Plus, he didn’t really know how she felt about him. She hadn’t told him she loved him back. Even the strongest love would be tested by what they had been through—and it was quite possible he was experiencing a one-sided infatuation that she had already dismissed.

Hell, she probably wanted to move to Baltimore and become a doctor in peace. And Darcy shouldn’t stand in the way. If he loved her, he owed her that much.

He had been silent for a long time. “Was that rumor wrong?” Burton asked.

“Yeah, it’s wrong,” Darcy said. “There’s nothing going on between me and any of Tom Bennet’s daughters.”

Chapter Eighteen

Elizabeth fussed with the folds of her gown, trying to get them to lay flat so she wouldn’t wrinkle the dark purple satin. Beside her, Jane clasped and unclasped her hands mechanically. Unable to stand it anymore, Elizabeth took one of her sister’s hands in hers. “Don’t worry about the award. It’s your night. Just enjoy it.”

Jane took a deep breath. “I know. I keep telling myself I’ve been to the Academy Awards; I know how it goes. But I’ve never been nominated before. It’s a whole new level of anxiety.” She gave Elizabeth a self-deprecating smile. “What if I win?”

“You’ll be fine.” Elizabeth smiled at her. “Remember, you have the cheat sheet of thank yous in your pocket.”

On Jane’s other side, Ricky blew out a breath and gave his girlfriend a jittery smile. “You think you’re nervous? At least you’re a performer. You’re used to audiences and delivering lines. What’s a poor screenwriter supposed to do if he wins?”

Jane’s free hand squeezed his. “I hope you win Best Screenplay. It would mean so much to all those trans kids out there.”

Ricky grimaced. “Thanks, honey. That’s the way to take the pressure off.” They laughed.

Their group fell silent for a moment. In the opposite bank of seats, Elizabeth’s mother was telling Lydia about movie roles she could audition for. “The first one I thought of for you is being directed by Sterling Taylor, who’s very up and coming. It’s about a world-champion knitter who acquires a limp as a result of a tragic blender accident—”