Now, Juliet was – she was staring, Darcy realized as she approached, her gaze immediately locking with Juliet’s.
Juliet had an unexpected intensity about her, Darcy clocked that immediately, even from several feet away. The look in her eyes was inscrutable, but it wasn’t lacking emotion. Emotions Darcy couldn’t possibly understand or decipher.
She didn’t let her gait falter, even as she felt that rush again. The thrum of wondering how this was going to play out. It was similar – not quite exactly the same, but similar – to how she felt when she was inspired for a new song.
Darcy had assumed Juliet would be the first one to say something, when she drew up to their shared table. That seemed to be her M.O., after all.
So, when Darcy came to a stop behind her own empty chair, curling her fingers over the back but not quite pulling it out yet, she paused. Waiting.
Only at that moment did Juliet drop her eyes away from Darcy, looking down at her menu.
Darcy’s hand tightened on her chair. So that was how it was going to be? That was how it wasstillgoing to be?
She pointedly cleared her throat as she sat in her chair, staring across the table. At this point, it was a part of her own pride to not look away from Juliet. Maybe Juliet wanted to glance away from her, maybe Juliet thought that was how she would maintain some sort of power here. But Darcy would maintainher ownpower by refusing to back down.
“It’s sogreatto finally meet you,” Darcy drawled, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued to stare Juliet down.
Juliet hummed noncommittally. “That was almost believable.”
Darcy could feel the muscle in her jaw twitch, a retort burning in the back of her throat. But she pictured Eliana. And beyond that, she pictured Shelby Linwood. And she blew out a deep, calming breath. “At the very least, I’m glad we can actually have a face-to-face. We can bury whatever this issue is and focus on our song.”
She figured they could at least both agree on that. Right?
Juliet finally lifted her gaze back to Darcy’s, slowly lifting an eyebrow up at her. “Oursong?” She echoed back, sounding both amused and exasperated. At least, Darcy thought that was it.
“Yes… our song for Shelby Linwood? ‘Porchlight,’” she spoke slowly, wondering if Juliet somehow had come to this lunch uninformed. “The song we’re supposed to be recording together tomorrow?”
Juliet’s eyes narrowed. “I know what ‘Porchlight’ is, Darcy. But referring to anything asours, implying you and I have joint ownership overanythingis…”
She trailed off, her lips pursing tightly.
Darcy couldn’t help but toss her hands into the air, letting them fall into her lap. “Okay, seriously, what is your problem? You even take issue with my sayingour songwhen I’m referring to the song we’re going to be doingtogether?”
What the literal fuck?
“No, you’re right. It’soursong,” Juliet murmured back, shaking her head. “Oh, by the way, I appreciate that you dressed up for our lunch.”
Darcy eyed Juliet’s outfit, or what she could see of it, anyway. In a pale blue wrap top – the fabric light and airy – that dippedjustlow enough to show the hint of cleavage but not ever more than a hint, and her hair half-up and pulled away from her face in a braid, she looked precisely how Darcy would have imagined. “That’s pretty ironic, you know, coming from you.”
She didn’t say anything else; she didn’t have to.
Mostly because she knew from the way Juliet’s eyes narrowed even more at her, the way they burned so bright, they wereboththinking about how a couple of months ago in an interview, Darcy had referred to Juliet’s “signature look” being that of a grown-up television child star. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s cute,”she’d said.
And, if she was being super honest, she actuallydidfind it cute.
Not on many adults. Definitely not on herself.
But Juliet – so fucking annoyingly – really did look like she should have a halo shining above her head. Especially here, right now, in this blindingly bright restaurant. She was one of few adult women who could wear her cute, relatively conservatively cut outfits and manage to look really good. Juliet would neverdarewear a genuinely low-cut top, or a dress with a dangerously high slit up the side.
Juliet’s glare was now in full force. “Like I’ve said before: I think it’s really refreshing that you haven’t let anything change who youreallyare, deep down inside. I’m sure you’ve worn that outfit while tending the bar at the bowling alley. It’s incredibly precious.”
And there it was, the mirror of the words Juliet had thrown around about her that had forced Darcy’s hand into commenting on Juliet’s wardrobe a few months ago.
Annoyance zipped through her. “I’m just going to cut through the crap and say it: you’re not better than I am, Juliet,” she stated, her hand digging into her own thigh. “Just because you have your dad’s money to back you up, just because you were successful before I was–”
“Stepdad,” Juliet cut in sharply. “And, I’m sorry, when did IsayI was better than you?”
Darcy’s mouth fell open in offense because she’d believed they were at least past the bullshit. She leaned forward, the edge of the table biting into her chest. “Literally the first time you ever spoke my name.”
