The ride to the venue was agonizing. Taylor and Dave were barely on speaking terms, neither of them having the guts to reach out first to discuss what had happened between them. They kept their discussion strictly to what their requirements were for the evening while Liz and Allison sat between them occasionally exchanging awkward looks.
It wasn't until they were in the press line and Dave and Taylor were occupied with an interview when Allison turned on Liz. "What the fuck is going on?" she whispered harshly.
"I..." Liz scrambled for the right words, not sure what her husband had divulged about the night of Dave's birthday party and the day after. "They had a little... disagreement at Dave's party."
"I gathered that," Allison's acerbic laugh caught Dave's attention and he looked away from the cameras to Liz, waiting until she smiled at him to focus back on the press. "What did they fight about?"
She sighed deeply and was fully prepared to spill the entire truth, but they were interrupted by their press escort and called onto the carpet next to their husbands.
"Everything okay?" Dave asked when Liz positioned herself beside him and arranged her dress to look as flattering as possible.
"She's asking questions about you two," she replied through her fake smile. "I don't know what to tell her."
"Of course she is," he muttered through his own faux grin and tightened the arm around her waist. "I'll take care of it, okay?"
The next 45 seconds felt like an hour to her, trying to keep her smile neutral while sucking in as much of her belly as she could. Dave apparently sensed her nervousness because his thumb began to lightly trace circles directly over the spot where her FF tattoo was hidden under yards of black lace and she was just beginning to relax into his side when a commotion caught the attention of all four of them.
A woman in a frothy pink tulle gown with matching pink hair and eyeshadow was screeching through the crowd towards them, her arms outstretched towards Dave. She crashed against him, almost sending all three of them tumbling into the backdrop if it weren't for Dave using his right leg as a brace.
"Hi! Oh my god! I haven't seen you in hours!" she giggled loud enough for the press wall to overhear and blatantly ignored Liz as Taylor tried to help steady the three of them.
"Yeah, it's been a while," Dave replied flatly, hopping a little on his hurt leg. "You haven't met my wife yet, have you?"
There was a very distinct change in the woman's demeanor that was invisible to the cameras around them, but very clear to Liz. She even caught the eye roll Allison gave her as Taylor quickly escorted her off the carpet and away from the disaster in the pink frock.
"We haven't met," the woman said coolly. "I'm Calliope, but I'm sure you've heard about me. I'm the one that's been basically living at the studio with your man!"
Liz's spine went straight and she felt Dave's fingers dig into her hip, "Oh! I actually haven't heard a word about it. I'm Elizabeth." Her voice was sticky sweet, matching Calliope's false excitement to a tee and making Dave clear his throat in an attempt to intervene, but there was no room for him in that particular battle.
"Everyone knows who you are, you lucky bitch! Being Dave's wife and all," she slapped a shrill emphasis on 'wife' that made Liz bristle.
"Yes. Lucky, lucky me," she said smoothly then turned to Dave. "I'm going to locate a drink. Come and find me when you're done with... work."
He shot her a warning glance that she chose to ignore, then pulled herself out of his hold and left him to the media circus. Taylor passed her on her way to Allison with an apologetic smile as he took her place beside Dave and Calliope for photos.
"God, I can't fucking stand her. She's like a bad Lady Gaga knock-off," Allison muttered and handed Liz a clear keg cup full of a light beer. "Here. It's O'Douls, drink up."
She did as she was told and felt the heat from the cameras light up behind her. "Which rag was that?"
Allison squinted into the press pool and rolled her eyes. "Buzzfeed. Expect a personality quiz based on what 'The Fabulous Liz Colbert' drank tonight."
Liz choked a laugh into her cup and threw her arm around her friend's shoulders. "Let's go find a green room and maybe a boy band to seduce while those two soak up the limelight."
*
"My fucking feet hurt," Liz whined just as they wandered into the main green room.
"Oooh! Gift bags!" Allison chirped and snatched two off the table beside them to dig through while Liz scanned the room and took another sip of her beer. It tasted horrible, but it certainly kept people from asking questions about her belly. They wove their way through the crowd to a small grouping of plush couches and sighed when they sunk down into them.
"Her real name is Jamie," Allison said suddenly.
Liz laid her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes. "Whose?"
"Calliope," she mocked in a sing-song voice. "Taylor showed me her studio paperwork. Her name is Jamie Alexander."
"I guess everyone needs an angle," Liz muttered. She was in no position to judge someone for changing their name anyway. "Anything good in the bags?"
Allison watched her for a moment, reading her face before digging through the fancy tote bags. "There's chocolate and-"
"Give it," Liz demanded, making Allison laugh and drop a gourmet chocolate bar into her open palm.
They spent the next half hour eating fancy snacks and watching the elite of the Hollywood music scene mingle around them until an unmistakable accent rose above the noise.
"Elizabeth!"
She whipped around to Allison, who waved her off with a mouth full of candy, "Go. I'll wait here for T."
Liz practically ran across the green room and into Paul's arms, holding him as tightly as she could get away with as he laughed against her.
"You always remind me of Martha when you greet me, darling," he smiled. "You're like the happiest sheepdog in a designer gown."
Liz squeezed him even tighter before stepping back a little. "I haven't seen you since...," she thought for a moment and realized the last time she had seen him was the night Dave had ambushed her on the Sunset Strip.
"Yes, it's been far too long, love. Anything you need to tell me?" he asked, sipping on his lager and staring hard at her slightly protruding belly.
"Several things," she said apologetically. "So many things."
He offered her his arm and brushed off the onlookers, quickly sneaking her into a private restroom while his security guard stood watch at the door. "Married and up the spout, Elizabeth?" he exclaimed as he checked the stalls for anyone hiding out. "I go to Britain for the holidays and come back to this?"
"It was all very... spontaneous," she admitted, feeling so guilty that she hadn't at least given him a call. "Except for these guys," she added and looked down at her belly. "These two were very much planned."
Paul's eyes went wide and his hand shot out to hold himself upright against the wall. "Two? Dave-"
"No...," she grabbed his arm to keep him from running out to congratulate the wrong person. "No, they're not Dave's, they're Taylor's."
"Elizabeth!" he cried, completely dumbstruck.
"No," she was surprised that she felt panic instead of laughter rise in her chest, usually that joke was hilarious to her. "I'm just carrying the babies for him and his wife. ...Just a surrogate."
Paul let out a long breath while pressing one hand to his forehead. "That is news, darling."
"I know and I'm so sorry I haven't called. Things have been so crazy and..." she was horrified when the tears became too much to hold back and when Paul folded her into his arms she completely opened the floodgates and sobbed into this shoulder.
But, ever the immaculate British gentleman, he gently rocked and shushed her until she managed to pull herself together. "Hormones or something more troublesome?"
"Both," she gave a shuddering sigh and he led her to a little settee in the corner so she could explain.
*
Liz worked backward; describing her annoyance with Calliope, Dave's birthday, Taylor's attachment issues, Christmas, the surrogacy transfer and had just finished recounting Vegas when the lights dimmed once followed by a short knock on the door from his security, indicating that the show was about to start. They snuck out of the restroom and into the theater via a side door, then stood quietly while an usher confirmed their seats.
"We're working on your seat miss," he said sheepishly. "It seems someone has already claimed it and refuses to move."
"Isn't she just adorable?" Liz huffed and looked around for a quick exit. She refused to just hang around and let some desperate ladder climber disrespect her in front of the entire industry while her husband did nothing about it. She could just call Travis to pick her up and deal with the drama when Dave came home.
"She'll sit with me," Paul said decidedly. "I had them shift the seats around since my wife wasn't coming, surely they can shift them back."
The usher looked unsure, but nodded and hurried off into the maze of large candlelit tables. Liz had been excited when Dave told her that the Grammys had changed venue formats from theater style to a sit-down dinner to disguise their increasingly low turn out; mostly because she had been promised amazing food, but also because she was looking forward to sitting next to Allison so they could gossip all night.
"That poor guy doesn't get paid enough to deal with all this just because one obnoxious leech of a woman," she muttered.
Paul chuckled and patted her hand linked in his arm, "I'll slip him something extra for his troubles, Elizabeth. Don't you worry. And the harpy will be more than miffed once she sees who you'll be dining with tonight."
She followed his stare out into the venue and felt her breath catch when she spotted Dave sitting at a table near the stage. His back was to her, but he was laughing, she could tell by the way his shoulders were shaking and Calliope was just beside him with her hand on his arm. Taylor was seated beside Dave, looking around in a panic and Allison was clearly glaring daggers at the intruder in Liz's seat.
"She's only one of many more opportunists, Elizabeth," Paul said gently. "You'll have to fend them off as best you can while understanding that Dave can only do so much in this environment."
"I don't know how though," she whispered back. "And shouldn't he maybe help a little?"
He smiled knowingly at her, then led her out onto the venue floor. "Just follow me, love."
The dull hum on the arena floor faded to a tense hush once they began to weave through the white tables. It was quiet enough that she could hear the fabric of her dress swish behind her and she wondered if it was because everyone was in awe of Paul or if they were waiting to see what she would do when she passed the pink fluff currently occupying her seat and her husband's attention. Her heart began to hammer in her chest and her hands went clammy on Paul's arm as they drew closer and Dave turned slightly in his seat to see what everyone was staring at, instantly locking eyes with her.
Paul patted him on the back as they passed, then sweetly returned his hand to cover Liz's. "You just let me know when you'd like her back."
It was amicable enough that the people around them actually chuckled and Dave had no choice but to make some affable remark about stealing his wife back when he least expected it. Liz only offered him a tight smile and warmly greeted Allison as Calliope settled herself deeper into her stolen seat with a haughty grin. The cameras were beginning to swarm and Liz knew it was in her best interest to appear as ladylike as possible though all she wanted to do was kick the false lashes off the girl giggling beside her husband.
Their tables were positioned just feet from each other but their seats were on opposite sides making it nearly impossible for Liz to ignore him. Even seated at a table that included the surviving Beatles, Rihanna, and Diana Ross, she found herself watching him out of the corner of her eye and knew he was watching her right back.
*
The dinner plates were being cleared when Dave pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and glanced up at Liz. She was giggling with the woman beside her and despite how terrible he felt, he smiled as he scrolled through his phone. She could make anyone laugh, even the notoriously frosty Rihanna.
Come back.
He sent the text and looked up at her, silently begging her to just get up and walk over to him. Calliope had finally been called backstage to change for her performance and he wanted to leave before they had to encounter her again. He watched as Liz pursed her lips when she glanced down at her phone and tapped out her reply.
I'm having a lovely time at this table, thanks.
She was fucking pissed and he couldn't really blame her. Had he known Calliope was going to act like a complete lunatic he would have declined the offer of him and Taylor introducing her act and stayed home. He sighed and looked up again, finally making eye contact with her. She was staring hard at him with one eyebrow raised waiting for his next move, but all he could muster was a contrite look and a subtly mouthed, Please?
Her eyes dropped to her lap again and he watched her until his phone lit up.
I don't have anywhere to sit over there.
Pointedly looking over at the vacant chair next to him, he tried teasing her to see if it would improve her mood.
There's always my lap...
She frowned at that and ignored him through an entire long-winded acceptance speech before replying.
Believe me when I say I am NOT in the mood, David.
Tossing his phone on the table, he raked his hair back and tried to pay attention to what was happening on stage. This wasn't something he could fix via text and would just have to plead his case in person during the next commercial break.
But when the house lights went up to half burn and he went to stand, he found that her seat was already empty. Paul waved a bit to get his attention then tilted his head towards the back of the room where Dave spotted the skirt of her gown as it disappeared through the large double doors.
"She's waiting for you backstage," Paul whispered as he passed him.
"Thanks, man," he clapped a hand onto his idol's shoulder and smiled. "Play a song at my funeral, will ya?"
An amused laugh followed him as he hurried after his wife and tried to prepare himself for the inevitable fight he was about to walk into.
*
There were only a few people mingling around in the wings, mostly security and event staff with no sign of Elizabeth. But Taylor was waiting impatiently for him, storming up to him the moment they spotted each other.
"Where the hell have you been? I almost had to do this shit by myself!"
"Have you seen Liz?"
Taylor rolled his eyes and turned to watch the host on stage. "No. She's probably halfway home by now."
Dave looked around them in a panic. Had hadn't considered her leaving. "She wouldn't ditch us like that."
Taylor cocked an eyebrow at him. "Why is it so hard for you to tell Calliope to back the fuck off?"
Now it was Dave's turn to roll his eyes. "She's our client, T. I'm not going to be a dick just because she's a flirt."
"She fucking conned you into this! We're only here because you couldn't say no to us introducing her. And she's been at the studio three weeks longer than she was supposed to be. What's the fucking hold up?"
"She's a shitty artist?" Dave shrugged. "She just needs an extra little push on the last couple songs and then she'll be out of our way."
Taylor went quiet for a beat then said, "Hope that producer credit is worth it, man," before backing away from him.
Dave watched in confusion until he felt a hand skim across his shoulders and down his arm. He didn't even need to look to know it was her and reached out to wind his arms around Liz's middle. A glimpse of the lanyard in her hand told him she had most likely run into trouble trying to get to backstage and had made it to him anyway. Realizing she was trying her hardest to give him the benefit of the doubt, he squeezed until she made a pained squeaking sound then pulled back to look at her. "You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah, I know," she smiled and ran her fingers through his hair to comb it out a bit. "You're not off the hook, but I love you too."
"That's fair," he chuckled and reluctantly dropped his hold on her. "Wait here for me, okay? I'm only out there for forty five seconds and then we can go home."
He had just turned to head out onto the stage when he ran directly into Calliope waiting behind him. She was wearing a deep pout and a costume that could only be described as electrical tape moonlighting as lingerie while wrenching his face towards hers to plant a loud, wet kiss directly on his lips. "Wish me luck, Daddy."