"Mouth wounds bleed a ton." There had to be blood everywhere.
"Tell me about it. But now I have you, my own personal nurse." He kissed her temple and wrapped his arms around her. "Can’t wait to hear what you wanna try after dinner."
She laughed and settled against him, both covered with a blanket. This was pure happiness, wasn’t it? And proof that even if this relationship wasn’t permanent, it was real.
Chapter Nineteen
DARLA
They didn’t endup back in bed because they wound up in a limo that dropped them off at Pew, where the rest of Dimefront met up with them. Pew was one of the fancier nightclubs celebrities frequented in Los Angeles. The music pulsed and lights flashed against the walls and ceilings.
There was an entire wall of lights along one side of the room, and an LED dance floor smack in the middle. The walls were all painted matte black throughout the whole club, and the DJ booth stood high above everyone. At one side of the room were two private VIP sections with velvet-lined booths.
One whole section was reserved for Dimefront. The space was separated from the rest of the club by velvet ropes and guarded by burly bouncers who seemed very much into their jobs given the way they glowered at anyone who came close.
Darla started to itch all over because she was more out of place than pineapple on pizza. This was not a good idea.
No, she didn’t belong here.
"Darla!" Irina called, then she waved and made a scene, so the other ladies all turned that way, too.
Darla waved back because, well, she couldn’t not.
"You good?" Mach asked, eyeing the ladies, then Darla. "Your entourage is calling you."
She nodded. "Totally. I do this all the time."
"You’re a natural." He smirked.
"‘’Cause I can spend money, huh?" she asked, looking up at him and wishing she’d had something cuter to wear than the little black dress she’d tossed in her suitcase, and a pair of flat dress shoes she’d grabbed at Target who knew how long ago. She’d pulled her hair into a high ponytail, added a little blush, and called it good.
But looking at the other ladies? They had gone allout. Hair and makeup, tight sparkly dresses, and heels so high they probably needed an escalator to get in them.
Still, Mach looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. That was nice. Really nice.
Darla sauntered over to Irina and the ladies, while Mach did some kind of guy-handshake with Tanner and grabbed a beer from one of the servers.
The waitstaff served up complimentary signature cocktails with names like A-List Affair and Sunset Serenade. Darla went with the Pink Paparazzi because it seemed appropriate given their situation and it came with edible glitter floating in the booze.
The ladies were all there—Irina, Courtney, Becca, and Sam—situated on velvet couches surrounding a small glass-topped table filled with drinks and a few empties that hadn’t been pulled yet.
"I’m a little jealous about theLately, Latershow invite," Irina said with a fake pout. "It took me ages to nail an invitation."
"You should do it for me," Darla said, cautiously taking a sip of the drink. Holy goodness, it was delish with hints of a pink Starburst candy.
"Oh, no, you definitely get to have this experience," Irina said, like Darla had actually done something to earn it.
Darla shook her head. "I’m good. Promise. You are welcome to do it for me."
"You’ll do great," Courtney assured. "The whole thing is practically kindergarten simple. Show up. You be you. Everyone will love you. A little pre-scheduled banter and Mach takes over. He’ll redirect the attention to Dimefront and their upcoming album. Ba-da-bing. Done. You go back to your regularly scheduled life."
Well, when put like that it did sound simple. But also, the part about going back to her life felt like it didn’t fit anymore.
"What if I fall on my face?" Darla asked.
"Maybe let’s not plan on that?" Courtney suggested over the rim of her martini glass.
"I don’t think you are giving me the credit I deserve," Darla said. "I can be seriously klutzy."
