Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set by Gigi Blume (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📕
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- Author: Gigi Blume
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Will returned in a whirlwind with Stella in his wake. She carried my backpack purse and sandals, and they both looked like they meant business.
“I’ve been looking for you for twenty-five minutes,” she said, ushering me quickly from the room. “Cole got ahold of me through Fitz and told me everything.”
“I didn’t know Jorge was going with them on the trip,” I explained. “I could have warned them.”
“Nonsense,” she said. “There’s nothing you could have done.”
“Do you think Lydia is in some kind of danger?” I asked, hobbling along while she and Will whisked me toward the front door.
“I don’t doubt it, knowing Jorge,” answered Will.
“Nora’s flying in right now,” said Stella. “She’ll be coming to your house.”
“Nora?”
“Lydia’s sister.”
“Oh. Okay.” The smart sister.
When we arrived at the front, a car was waiting to take me home. It wasn’t Enrique, but a guy I didn’t know. I was unceremoniously deposited in the backseat, along with my things and bid good luck by Stella.
“Listen,” she said. “Georgia doesn’t know what’s going on. I think it best we keep it that way.”
I nodded in complete agreement, but also in such a haze, I would have agreed to shave my head. It was happening too fast. Once the car door was shut, I saw Will run into his house.
Run.
Apparently, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. No goodbye, no sentiments of concern, no encore to that kiss. Kitty wasn’t amused. And let’s not even talk about the hundred different ways to say I told you so. Because Jeff wouldn’t shut up about it the whole ride home.
28
Hold, Monsters!
Beth
“So,” said Holly in the most uncouth manner. “You’re the smart one.”
Lydia’s sister Nora had been in my apartment all of one hour when Holly arrived. I stayed up to wait for her, believing she’d come straight to my apartment from the airport as Stella had said. But Nora was far too polite, as I soon discovered, so she spent the night at the airport hotel. She made up some kind of excuse that it was too late, that she was so tired and couldn’t possibly stand a thirty-minute cab ride. But I could tell she was way too prissy to crash on a stranger’s couch. Especially a friend of her sister, and remembering her previous roommates, I didn’t blame her. No doubt she expected Lydia to hang with the unrefined crowd. If so, Holly just proved it.
The poor girl didn’t seem to know how to answer Holly. Was it a question or a statement?
“Lydia tells us you’re studying at Harvard,” I said in an effort to smooth over Holly’s indelicate ice breaker.
“Uh… yes,” Nora answered distractedly. Her thoughts were in a galaxy far, far away. Who knows what was going through her mind. She was probably fearing the worst. I reached over the kitchen table and cupped my hand over hers. She hadn’t touched the peppermint tea I gave her. No doubt it was too cold by now. Probably tasted like toothpaste.
“We’ll find her,” I said in the most reassuring voice I could muster. “Holly’s boyfriend is in close contact with the US Consulate, and our friend Denny is searching all of Jorge’s usual hang outs.”
She slumped in her chair. “I feel so helpless. I’m not making any more progress here than I would have in Cambridge.”
“I know it feels that way, but it’s better you’re here,” I said. “For when she comes home.”
“We’re really glad you came,” agreed Holly.
Nora reluctantly nodded and sipped her cold tea.
“Do you want me to get you a warm cup?” I offered.
She shook her head and declared it was fine.
“Maybe you’d like to look through Lydia’s things for a clue.” That was a feeble suggestion on Holly’s part, but Nora agreed to it, if nothing other than to have some useful occupation to pass the time.
Most of the day was spent in the same manner. Nora quietly searching for answers in Lydia’s messy belongings, on crumbled receipts and post-it notes. She must have checked Lydia’s social media accounts every five minutes. She was restless. I totally got it. I’d be much worse off if something ever happened to my sister. As it was, I felt completely responsible, irrationally so or not.
By late afternoon, Jane came home. She wouldn’t answer my inquiries about how her audition went. Her only concern was for Lydia and tending to Nora’s comfort. Somehow, Jane was able to relate to her better than Holly or I. It was a special kind of talent. And it was so Jane.
My mother, on the other hand, had her own special kind of talent. Gossip. She’d gotten wind of the news through the mysterious grapevine in which she lived. Her timing was impeccable as usual. She called while Nora was telling us a tearful story about Lydia getting lost in the super mall when they were little. I didn’t want to be rude, but I felt I had to answer Mom’s call. It was one of those ‘hug your loved ones’ moments. I’d have felt guilty to ignore her call.
“Oh, that poor girl,” she cried. “I liked her so much.”
“You met her once, Mom.” I paired my Bluetooth earbuds, so I could be hands-free. Doing stuff like cleaning or organizing my bookshelf while on the phone relaxed me. It helped ease the hour away.
“I know I met her once, but I felt we really bonded in that time. Like a daughter I never had.”
“Except for the two you did have?”
“In addition to. Like a third daughter I never
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