My watch buzzes with a text. I read it aloud for Darcy, though it’s hard to make out the letters through my sudden tears. “Can we please come down? Charles is fit to burst and we’re all dying. Why were we asked to bring bubbles? Yes!” I half-blurt, half-sob. I wave with both hands, beckoning them to the ground floor. A second later, everyone’s vanished from the window, leaving handprints and lipstick smudges on the glass, then they’re crowding the railing to the right of the office.

“Lizard,” hollers Chloe. “Why are we here?”

Darcy looks at me. He cups the sides of my face, thumbing away my tears. “It’s your call.”

“I’m in,” I pronounce, and kiss him, heedless of our audience. His arms wrap around me, his fingers twining in my hair as his tongue dances across my upper lip. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.

“Kitten!” Ming shouts. “We popping corks or do we have to wait for Darcy to pop his?”

I break the kiss and sit up, wiping away the now-flowing tears. “Get down here!” I wrap my arms around Darcy’s neck and press my forehead to his. “We’re home.”

CHAPTER

26

Across from me, Diva de los Muertos runs her fingers over one of the rhinestones glued to her temple, prying off the gem and placing it in a pile with the others she’s removed. Her face is painted like a sugar skull, the rhinestones detailing flowers she drew for her performance.

Beneath the table, Darcy’s fingers drum an anxious beat on my knee, but I’m not concerned: Diva’s a go. Since last month’s meeting of the minds we’ve signed a good half-dozen performers to Pemberley and not a single one has even asked for time to think it over. The consistent, well-paying gig is an easy sell, and once we explain the scandal surrounding the show’s inception, the offer is just too juicy to pass up.

Ming gives a thumbs-up from her spot at a makeup table behind Diva. She’s thrown herself into scouting, attending shows most nights and taking gigs featuring promising new faces, like Diva. The only downside has been these late-night treks to see the potential hires for myself. I’d thought we could have them come to Pemberley, but Ming put the kibosh on that, saying, “Audience chemistry is a critical part of any burlesque performance.” A valid point, and she didn’t even punctuate it with anything vulgar.

Diva pries off one more rhinestone, turning it over between her fingertips. “I’m in.”