Chapter Two

In Which the Benitez Sisters Attend a Wedding

It had taken less than a week for her mother to find a way.

Even for her, that was impressive.

It turned out, as she explained to her daughters over a Saturday morning breakfast of frozen waffles and canned peaches, that since getting into town, Robert Charles II happened to frequent the same bookstore as their father. When he wasn’t working, Elisa’s dad basically lived in the stacks of tomes, even when he was between paychecks and wasn’t actually going to buy anything. The workers had resigned themselves to his presence.

“So, what, you went over to ‘randomly’ run into him, nineties rom-com style?” Camila asked, pouring about a gallon of maple syrup onto her plate. On Saturdays, it was rare for the Benitez family to have breakfast before ten, and today was no exception. Camila had been the last to rise from her bed, finally appearing at the table sometime around ten thirty in a flowered bathrobe and Hello Kitty slippers. The smell of waffles was a surefire method to wake her up. Maria had been, as usual, the first sister awake, and had wasted no time expressing her annoyance with her for being so slow.

“Don’t be silly, that’d be way too awkward,” Mom said. Elisa relaxed a bit. “I just called up your dad, explained the situation to him, begged him to help me until he agreed to shut me up. Your father says Robert’s going to a wedding next weekend. And your dad is a friend of a friend of the groom, so he managed to wrangle us some invitations. All six of us, and Charlene, too—turns out her boss is a groomsman.”

That last part was no doubt an attempt to stop Elisa from getting too annoyed with the whole thing. It didn’t work.

“How’d you even know where Robert goes?” she asked with a small frown.

Mom stood, going to get the butter out of the fridge. “Oh, don’t pretend you’ve never dug through anyone’s social media before.”

Elisa set her fork down with a clatter, gaping at her. “Mom.”

“It’s not my fault his privacy settings aren’t very good,” she defended herself. Sitting back down, she gave her daughters a sly grin. “He’s posted about a dozen pictures from that store since getting into town. I got to see what he looks like. You know, he’s awfully cute. So many of those millionaires had to become rich to make up for ugliness, but not Robert Charles II, that’s for sure. If I were ten years younger…”

“Mom!” Elisa, Maria, and Camila shouted in unison.

“What kind of cute are we talking here?” Lucia asked, dark brown eyes sparkling as they always did whenever a hot, rich guy was mentioned. Which, with Lucia, was 95 percent of the time. “Like, ‘reads to homeless orphans on the weekends’ cute or ‘has probably stabbed a guy and we love him for it’ cute? Or is he somewhere in-between?”

Elisa stared at her. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“There are seven distinct levels of attractiveness,” her sister said. Elisa looked over to Maria and Julieta and was glad to see she wasn’t the only one running on confusion. “Everyone falls on a tier somewhere, and everyone has their own preferences for where they want their boo to land.”

“Does anyone still say ‘boo’ when they mean ‘boyfriend or girlfriend’?” Maria asked.

“I do. It’s cute, it’s easy to say, it’s gender-inclusive, and it reminds me of ghosts. Win-win-win-win.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Elisa said with a small smile. “Mom, did you have any cute little nicknames you used to call your boyfriends?”

Mom nodded. “Mostly it was ‘sweetie,’ ‘hon,’ or ‘dumbass.’ You know, flirting.”

“Anyhoo,” Lucia said, “I call it the Benitez Sliding Scale of Cuteness. Patent pending. Cam helped me perfect it. It’s all totes scientific.”

“Your mind is a labyrinth, Lulu,” Elisa said.

“Thanks. But, of course, I’ll need to study Robert at closer range to know for sure where he lands…”

“Don’t even think about it, missy. He is too old for you,” Mom said, which was true. Lucia, although the tallest of her sisters at five foot ten, was only fourteen—a fact that often seemed to escape her. “And, for the curious, he’s one hundred percent on the ‘reads to homeless orphans’ end of the scale.”

Elisa was never sure if she envied her mother’s ability to follow Lucia’s thought process or not.

“Is he too old for me?” Camila asked with a playful grin.

Mom gave her a stern stare. “Absolutely.” Camila just laughed and went back to shoveling peaches into her mouth by the spoonful.

“Mom, just because he’s cute doesn’t mean he’s worth our time,” Maria said. At seventeen, Maria was the middle child, and by far the most introverted. Having come along only eleven months after Elisa was born, they’d been mistaken for non-identical twins more than once. Elisa privately thought her parents were crazy for having another kid so soon, but of course she would never say that, especially not to Maria herself. “Most cute guys are huge dicks.”

“You’re not the one he’ll be after, anyway,” Lucia said. Elisa kicked her under the table.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lulu, there are plenty of men out there who would love a smart, dependable girl like Maria,” Julieta said, giving her an encouraging smile.

“Smart, dependable…” Maria muttered. Elisa gave her a sympathetic glance.

Mom made a valiant effort to keep the conversation on track.

“You could at least give him a chance,” she said. “And we’re going, so that’s final.”

Elisa and Maria groaned, exchanging a mutually exasperated look, but the other three seemed pretty excited about it.

“Who’s getting married?” Julieta asked. “We should bring them a present.”

“No one we know,” she said, clearly not getting why most people would deem this a reason to not go. “So…soap basket it is. That’s not the point. The point is to get a chance to introduce ourselves to Robert without it being awkward.”

“And crashing a wedding isn’t awkward at all,” Elisa muttered.

Mom whacked her on the back of the head with a spatula.

…

The wedding was being held in a park near Netherfield. Mom had insisted, much to Elisa’s aggravation, that they park the family minivan at least five blocks away. “If we show up in this thing, we may as well hold up a giant neon sign that reads, we’re broke,” she explained, forcing Julieta to drive past the park and turn around so they could find someplace to hide their sticker-covered, maroon-colored chariot of shame.

“I thought the fact that we’re poor is the whole reason we’re doing this,” Maria said, voice strangled from where she was squeezed between Lucia and the window.

“Yeah, but we don’t wanna let them know that,” Lucia said, in the “oh my God you are such a moron” voice only a self-centered fourteen-year-old could pull off.

And right on cue, Camila echoed: “Yeah, obviously.” Despite being a year and a half older than Lucia and a grade ahead, she tended to copy her. Julieta and Elisa had, on separate occasions, tried to persuade Camila that she didn’t need to imitate Lucia, but she seemed to encourage it. She liked having someone want to be like her. It was nice to be admired, Elisa supposed, as Lucia reached over and squeezed Camila’s hand, grinning at her.

Julieta found a place to park, and the family spilled out of the van. Elisa stumbled slightly as her feet hit the sidewalk, unaccustomed to walking in heels. Charlene, who had to wear them daily to work, grabbed her arm, steadying her a bit.

“Think Mom would give me grief for taking these off for the walk over?” she asked.

“I think she would decide that the sight of your bare feet would make everyone think you’re even poorer than you really are,” Charlene laughed.

They could hear the wedding before they could see it. The actual ceremony wasn’t supposed to start for another half hour, but plenty of people had already arrived, and all their voices were blending together. It was impossible to pick out any individual words unless you were really working at it. As they got closer, Elisa could hear classical music playing from speakers set up for the occasion.

“Whoa, did they rent out the entire park?” Maria asked as their mother presented their invitations to the man at the gate, who checked the guest list to make sure they weren’t party crashers. “I expected it to be in the gazebo or one of the shelters or something.”

“We’re in rich people territory,” Elisa said, desperate to find a seat. Her feet were killing her. “They probably bought it.”

Maria and Camila both laughed, but Julieta tossed her a pleading look. “Please don’t antagonize anybody before we’ve even talked to anyone.”

“I’m not,” she said defensively.

“Elisa…”

“Okay, okay. I promise I will be the picture of perfect manners.”

Charlene snorted. She elbowed her.

Upon seeing the size of the crowd that had turned out for the wedding, Elisa suddenly understood how her father had managed to get them in so easily. There was simply no way the bride and groom knew all these people personally. When her cousin Vega had gotten married, her mother had forced her to invite every single distant cousin and friend of a friend of a friend. Vega had known maybe an eighth of the people at her own wedding. Elisa had the sense it was the same deal here, which at least took some pressure off. She probably wouldn’t be expected to pretend she actually knew the couple at all.

“Look at the ice sculptures,” Lucia squealed, embarrassingly loudly, actually pointing. Ignoring the people glancing at them, Elisa turned to get a look.

She was about to comment on how pretty the ice sculptures were, when something caught her attention.

Darcy was here.

Of all the people she would’ve expected to see, Darcy wouldn’t have even cracked the top twenty. Was she imagining this?

She blinked. Nope. She was still there.

“What the hell?” Elisa said aloud, before she could stop herself. Her face heated as a couple of guests gave her odd looks, but she was glad that Darcy was not one of them. She was standing by the sculptures, wearing a deep plum dress that she pulled off effortlessly, her wavy hair pulled back for the occasion. Her wealth seemed more much obvious here than it ever had at school. She seemed as displeased to be here as she did on campus, though. Her eyes flicked around the vicinity, apparently looking for someone.

She cast her glance to Elisa, and a spark of recognition lit her eyes.

Crap.

Elisa politely waved at her, unsure what else to do.

“Who’re you waving at?” Charlene asked. “Someone we know?”

“I do,” Elisa said. “Darcy’s here.”

“That snotty girl from your class?”

She nodded. “She’s over there,” she said, gesturing as subtly as she could.

Charlene turned to look, and she was glad to see that she was no longer looking at her. Instead, she was talking to a group of people, apparently having found whoever it was she was waiting for.

“Who’re they?” Charlene asked.

“No clue.”

She didn’t think they were Darcy’s family—these people were all white, blue-eyed, and golden-haired. They were definitely related to each other, though. The entire group was tall, with round faces and cute, button noses. There was the mother, two twin girls who didn’t look like they were that much older than them, and…

“Robert Charles,” Alejandra said, barely keeping her voice to a whisper.

Robert Charles, the man her mom was determined to get one of her daughters to marry, knew Darcy Fitzgerald. And, judging by his smile and the way she allowed him to hug her, he knew her pretty well.

It freaking figures.

“Is that him?” Julieta asked, peering over the top of Elisa’s head to get a look.

“Oh, he’s cute,” Camila said brightly.

He was cute, Elisa had to admit. And he didn’t give off the snobby vibe that Darcy and his sisters did. He looked like the sort of guy who went to farmer’s markets, and who rescued cats from trees.

Before Elisa could say anything, Mom was hustling Julieta over to where Darcy and Robert were, and everyone else followed, whether out of morbid curiosity or a desire to do damage control, Elisa was unsure.

They were within ten feet of Robert, but he hadn’t noticed them yet.

“Okay, honey, just relax and let Mama handle this,” Mom was whispering to her eldest daughter.

“Handle wh—oof—”

Julieta hadn’t finished her sentence when Mom gave her a nudge—well, more like a forceful shove—in Robert’s general direction. Julieta fell to the ground, more surprised than hurt, but it got everyone’s attention. Including Robert’s.

Because just saying, “Hi, welcome to the neighborhood,” is too close to what normal people do.

Eh, normal families are probably boring, anyway.

Julieta hadn’t been on the ground for two seconds when Robert rushed forward, offering her a hand to help her to her feet. She took it, clearly embarrassed, but he just smiled at her.

“Sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Julieta said. She wasn’t, but that would probably leave a better impression than “my crazy mother decided to manufacture an epic love affair between us.” Once she was on her feet, she was able to smile back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Robert said. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” she said, “not at all. Thank you.”

“No worries. We haven’t met, have we?”

“No—no, we, um, we haven’t. I’m Julieta Benitez.”

“Robert Charles,” he said, as if they didn’t already know that. He finally let go of Julieta’s hand to gesture to the people with him, and that’s when Elisa saw it in Julieta’s eyes. A flicker of disappointment.

Here we go.

“This is my mother, Amelia, and my sisters, Cora and Louise,” Robert was saying. “And this,” he gestured toward Darcy, who’d witnessed the entire interaction with a scowl, “is my best friend, Darcy Fitzgerald. She’s like a sister to me.”

“Pleasure,” she said, in a tone that indicated that it wasn’t. Julieta smiled graciously at each of them before introducing her entire “entourage.”

“These are my sisters, Elisa, Maria, Camila, and Lucia, and Elisa’s best friend, Charlene Locke…and my mother—”

“Alejandra Bello,” their mother announced, thrusting her hand forward. Elisa cringed a bit, but Robert didn’t seem to mind, shaking her hand politely. “We’re delighted to meet you, Mr. Charles.”

“Don’t call me that, please,” he laughed. “Just call me Bobby. Being called Mr. Charles reminds me of work.”

“All right, Bobby it is,” she said, looking elated to be on a first-name basis with him so quickly. Never mind that he probably told everyone to call him that. “So—bride or groom?”

“Bride. Sort of,” he said. “She’s Darcy’s…uh…”

“Second cousin,” Darcy said.

“Second cousin. That’s right. Darcy asked her to let us tag along so we could meet people.”

“How funny,” Mom said. “Julieta’s father got us invited to the wedding for the same reason.” Elisa nudged her in the side, but she ignored her. “He’s a friend of the groom but was unable to attend.”

Probably because he barely knows him.

“Truth be told, my Julieta barely knows anyone here outside of us,” her mom said.

Of course, neither did her other daughters, or Charlene, but she didn’t seem too concerned with that particular detail.

“I know how that feels,” Bobby said. “Everyone’s very nice, though. You know, if you don’t already have plans for the reception, you’re welcome to sit with us.”

Her mom smiled. “We have no plans whatsoever.”

Elisa couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for Bobby. He was trying to be nice, and had no clue what he’d just done.

“Bobby,” Darcy said, a hint of irritation seeping into her tone, “the ceremony is supposed to start in five minutes. We should find our seats.”

“Oh, right.” He gave the Benitez family one last smile. “See you at the reception, then.”

As the Charles family and Darcy headed in, Mom did a little victory dance once they weren’t looking, her plan having gone perfectly.

“Was shoving her really necessary?” Maria asked. “Life isn’t a dating sim.”

“Your life may not be,” she said. “But that’s only because you don’t let me meddle.”

“Mom, I think I speak for all five of us when I say I would literally rather eat cement.”

Elisa tried and failed to fight a grin, even as Mom shot Maria her most withering look. “We should probably find our seats, too,” she said. She just hoped that they weren’t near Darcy.

They weren’t. They were in the very back row, which she suspected was a side effect of being an afterthought on the guest list. She smoothed out the skirt of her pale-blue dress, trying to appear vaguely interested in the ceremony.

Julieta, meanwhile, wasn’t even pretending. She was too busy stealing glances at Bobby.

…

The reception was beautiful. By the time the wedding was finished, the sun had begun to go down, the sky streaked with scarlet, and the park was lit with little twinkling lights. A string quartet had been hired to play for the guests, and there was even a little area to dance. Elisa could tell that her mother was hoping Julieta and Bobby would put it to good use, but they’d spent the entire reception so far back at Bobby’s table, talking to each other—and only to each other. A bridesmaid approached, reaching for Bobby’s arm and inviting him to dance with her. He got points for shaking his head and turning back to face her sister.

“They are kind of cute together,” Charlene said. She and Elisa hung out by the fountain, watching the rest of the party. This was how they spent most parties they attended—off in a corner, watching the action unfold. Being alone in a crowd wasn’t so bad if you had a friend to be alone with.

“Yeah,” Elisa admitted. “I haven’t seen Julieta that happy since before her last boyfriend dumped her.”

“How can you tell?” It was a fair question—Julieta projected an image of happiness and friendliness at all times.

Before Elisa could respond, her friend had grabbed her arm, a look of dread in her eyes. “Uh-oh. Incoming,” she whispered.

Elisa looked up to see what she was talking about and barely repressed a groan when she saw Colin Burger headed toward them. He’d gone to their middle and high school and was Charlene’s age. He’d been determined to win Elisa’s friendship for years. And he was a huge pain in the ass, a fact that had always escaped him. The girls put up with him simply to avoid trouble. He wasn’t mean, really, or even truly harmful. He was just…Colin.

“Charlene and Elisa—the dynamic duo,” he said upon reaching them. He immediately pulled them both into a big, inescapable bear hug.

“Thanks for asking permission,” Elisa muttered into his shoulder. He didn’t seem to hear her. He hugged her so tight she could smell his cologne.

Unearned Confidence and Desperation. He must have bought it by the case.

“What—what are you doing here?” Charlene asked.

“I just love weddings, don’t you?” Colin asked. “I have to admit, I usually prefer church weddings—there’s something about the tradition of it all. But this was just a lovely ceremony. You know, I’m majoring in theology at Gardiner University, and you learn all sorts of interesting trivia. Not just in your classes, but listening to other people talk. Like, for example, did you know that the original purpose of the best man was to fight to the death? Back when arranged marriages were normal, sometimes the bride’s actual boyfriend would turn up to ‘kidnap’ her, so the groom would hire the best swordsman he could afford to stop him. Isn’t that just fascinating? I think so, anyway. Wait— I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten the question.”

“What. Are. You. Doing here?”

“Oh, right. Well, it’s actually a family affair. The bride, the lovely Miss Hannah Rollins—or, as I suppose I should now be calling her, the lovely Mrs. Hannah Cooper—is actually my second cousin. I was unsure if I should take the time out of my busy schedule to pay my respects to a distant relative who I’ve only met once or twice, but my mother convinced me that it would be a good opportunity to relax and get to know my extended family a bit better. And she was right—well, she usually is. I’m really enjoying it.”

They blinked at him. Leave it to Colin Burger to answer a simple question with a novella.

What did he just say? She rewound the convo in her head.

“Wait, second cousin?”

“Why, yes. Hannah and I are related through…let’s see, I believe our great-grandfather Lucas—”

Elisa cut him off. Not to be rude but because with Colin, that’s what it took to get so much as a word in. “Do you know Darcy, by any chance?”

Colin, for the first time since he came up to them, allowed the smile to slip from his face, ever so slightly. “Yes,” he said, noticeably less than pleased about it. “Her mother was my aunt. We saw each other pretty frequently when I was growing up, but, if I’m being honest…? She’s kind of…scary.”

Elisa had to laugh. “I can see that. We take a class together.”

“How are you enjoying college so far? I’ve found that it is so rewarding to be studying in a field that interests me. I did extremely well in high school, but it was so difficult to concentrate in a crowded classroom. My mother had wanted me to attend a private academy, but my father thought that public school would be good for me, since everyone at my elementary school was from the same background as me. I pride myself on mixing very well with people from different economic backgrounds, and now that I’m studying theology, I’m learning how to interact with people from various cultural backgrounds, as well—”

“It’s great,” Elisa said, more than a little exasperated. “College is great.”

“That’s good to hear.” Colin said. “Anyway, I was wondering if you would do me the honor of a dance?”

He held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. Elisa’s brain basically short-circuited. Just say no. But she couldn’t. Colin was just tolerable enough that she didn’t want to insult him.

“Actually, Elisa promised her mother she’d be available whenever she needed her,” Charlene lied. “Family stuff, you understand.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t keep her long.”

“Still, Alejandra’s word is law.”

“That it is,” Colin chuckled.

“I would be happy to dance with you, though,” Charlene said, taking his hand.

“Right this way, then.”

Charlene cast a glance over her shoulder to Elisa as she went.

Thank you, she mouthed.

Charlene smiled back.

Best friend ever.

Elisa glanced around. Julieta was still talking to Bobby, and she could tell that she was already enamored. Her mother was making small talk with his mother and, judging by the look on Darcy’s face, doing a crap job at it. Should I go over there and help her out? Or should I keep avoiding Darcy like a coward?

Then she found Maria, Camila, and Lucia.

Coward, it is.

Her three younger sisters were by the snack table and the string quartet, and each was causing a scene in her own unique way.

Maria was talking to the violinist and was giving him a lecture on what he should be playing in lieu of the covers of popular love songs he had been hired to play. Camila was hitting on a waiter who was about twice her age, and she was failing miserably, judging from the amused pity on his face.

Lucia had found the Jell-O shots. Oh. Hell. No.

“What the hell kind of wedding has Jell-O shots?” Elisa muttered to herself, arriving just in time to stop Lucia from taking a drink. She snatched the shot glass out of her hand and chucked it into the nearest trash can.

“Heyyy,” Lucia protested.

“You’re underage,” she snapped.

“I can handle one little drink.”

“Yeah, that’s what you told Papa at the last work Christmas party he took us to. And we all know how that turned out. And you—” She whirled around, grabbing Camila and dragging her away from the waiter, who very wisely took the opportunity to escape.

“Stop flirting with people who are working. It’s rude.” She then rounded on Maria, who was clearly enjoying watching her two younger sisters get lectured. “And you. You do not make requests at a wedding. The music is chosen by the couple, not some girl they don’t know who just showed up.”

All three of her sisters were glaring at her, though Camila had the decency to look at least a little embarrassed.

“Every time I turn my back on you three…” Elisa massaged her forehead, wishing either Charlene or Julieta were here to give her some backup. Lord knew her mother wouldn’t be much help. “Can we please get through one social gathering where you don’t embarrass the family?”

“You mean, where we don’t embarrass you,” Maria muttered.

“I heard that,” she said sharply.

“You were supposed to.”

“Just—” She sputtered for a moment, trying to think of something that would occupy their time and wouldn’t cause a huge scene, but that they’d also agree to. Which was, in her experience, like trying to find a girl in Steventon who was also into girls, and who she could actually stand the thought of dating. That was the problem with living in such a tight-knit community—there were only so many lesbians to go around. “Just…go eavesdrop on Julieta and Bobby, okay? Mom will want updates. And be discreet.”

Camila, Maria, and Lucia all ran off, then, unable to resist the chance to spy on their elder sister’s love life. They pretended to read the drinks menu, leaning in to try and overhear what Bobby was saying to Julieta.

If this is them trying to be discreet, I might actually cry.

Finally, after a few minutes, Bobby got up from the table, and headed toward the snack table, where she stood. For a second, she thought he was coming to speak to her, but then she realized he was looking to her left.

Darcy.

Um. Nope.

She ducked behind the nearest tree, hoping she could just stand there until Darcy and Bobby left.

Yep. Super-mature, super-smooth. That’s me.

“Darcy, you haven’t spoken to anyone all night,” Bobby was saying.

“And are you really so cruel as to make me break my streak now?” Darcy said.

“Come on, you must be getting lonely.”

“I prefer my own company over that of anyone else. You know that.”

“Even mine? Or your sister’s?”

Darcy didn’t say anything.

“Everyone’s having a good time. I’m not saying you have to make a new friend, but I wouldn’t want you sulking all by yourself.”

“I am not sulking. I am brooding while in the vicinity of others. It’s a completely different thing.”

Elisa clapped a hand over her mouth to keep the laugh in. When she peeked back out, the corner of Bobby’s mouth was quirking up in a repressed grin.

“Well, would it kill you to brood in the vicinity of someone you can talk to?”

“It might,” she insisted.

“Why don’t you go hang out with that Colin guy? He’s your cousin, right?”

“We have never gotten along. If we talk now, there may very well be a brawl at this wedding,” Darcy said. “Is that what you want?”

Elisa disliked them both so much, she wasn’t sure who she’d even root for. She was willing to bet Darcy could pick Colin up and toss him like a ragdoll, though. A light breeze probably could’ve knocked him over.

Bobby let out a sigh. “Okay…what about that Elisa? Julieta’s sister?”

“What about her?” There was now a layer of ice coating her tone.

“You said you have a class with her, right? That’s at least something to talk about.”

“Look, Bobby—I know you mean well, but I also know you want to get back to Julieta. Don’t stay here and fuss over me. You’ve found the only pretty girl in this town, so there’s no point in trying to get me to find one. Elisa is…fine, I suppose, but not nearly enough to sway me. And her other sisters have been causing problems all night. Do you know I saw one of them arguing with the violinist about what to play? And that’s not even getting started on their mother. Basic manners seem to escape them. I can hardly imagine Elisa is much better.”

“Darcy, come on. I’ve been talking to Julieta all night, and she’s great.”

“Well, congratulations. You found the only normal one.”

Her jaw clenched as her hand curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm.

Nice to meet you, too, Darcy. Welcome to Steventon, enjoy your stay. Asshole.

He sighed. “Fine. Suit yourself,” he said.

“I’ll be headed home soon. Don’t feel obligated to leave when I do.”

It’s a good thing she left. Elisa may not have been able to hold her temper much longer. Who was Darcy to criticize her family? Sure, Elisa had given her sisters an earful for being rude, but she was their sister. That was her job. Darcy was just some random girl who didn’t know them.

And I’m fine. Ugh.

Unclenching her fists, Elisa sighed and shook her head. Darcy was not going to ruin this night for her. She was going to have a good time if it killed her.

And, honestly, it probably would.