Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set by Gigi Blume (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📕

Teotihuacan pyramids. Mexico, with its deep history, unique flavors, and humble citizens has always been a favorite destination of mine. And not just the tourist traps. I spent two weeks on location in Durango for one of my Fast and Dangerous films. I loved it there so much, I stayed on for an extra week, meeting the locals and exploring the best places to get street tacos or homemade ice cream. I did the same thing in Zihuatanejo and Mexico City. I even caught on to a little bit of Spanish. I’d choose a Mexican vacation any day of the week.

But crossing the border to negotiate with a human trafficking cartel sits almost at the bottom of my bucket list. Almost. Adding Jorge Wickham to the itinerary claimed the prize for last place. Yet, off I went like Steve Martin in Three Amigos to face El Guapo. Because of course, he was in-famous. I was only regular, run-of-the-mill famous. What I found out was that it was nothing like the movies. It was almost like making a transaction on Wall Street with the added edge of fearing for my life. I got to throw my celebrity status around, which was oddly exciting. One of the guys asked for an autograph, repeating his favorite lines from my movies. Who knew we reached that demographic with the Fast and Dangerous franchise? Then, once he had his autograph and selfie, he made some vague threat on my family jewels if I dared to tell anyone. Those guys mean business.

In short, I wasn’t completely confident we’d get out of there alive, but we did. We only stopped looking over our shoulders when we reached Chula Vista Memorial.

Ah, good times.

After that experience, any or all theatre drama or Hollywood intrigue thrown at me was like a trip to Disneyland. It helped me see things in a new light. What was I doing? I’d gotten so caught up in work, I had forgotten why I got into acting in the first place. I didn’t realize until I stepped away from churning out one movie after another that I was more than a box office cash cow. Months on the road with the national tour taught me that. Pirates of Penzance confirmed it. Staring down the barrel of a gun put it all into perspective. If things had gone downhill in Mexico, the news programs announcing my death would report, ‘Will Darcy made really bad movies and died a sad bachelor. The last girl he kissed turned him down flat. He’ll be easily forgotten.’

It played in my head like a recurring nightmare. I didn’t want to make terrible movies for the rest of my life. I also didn’t want to be a sad bachelor anymore. There was nothing I could do to change Beth’s mind, but I could change the direction of my career.

I sent my agent Tobias a text as I arrived at the Gardiner Tuesday morning and waited for the fury of Hades to rain down on me.

Me: I’m going to pass on the next Dangerous film. We’ll chat later.

I was sure my phone would start buzzing with salty replies. So I switched it to airplane mode. I’d deal with Tobias later. For now, I had to focus on Pirates. Opening night was in two days, but our invitational preview was on Wednesday. That was the performance for the press, VIP guests, entertainment bloggers, and industry professionals. I heard a rumor Rita Moreno would be in the audience. It was an important night at the Gardiner. And we only had one full day of rehearsals to get the show up.

With the bustle of getting in costume, warm-ups, fight call, and tests with the rope swings, I didn’t see Beth until we were on stage singing ‘Here’s a first-rate opportunity’ and she was slung over my shoulder. Not really an ideal time to catch up on current events. Cole was relentless with every second of our rehearsal time. We ran the show four times in quick succession with only a half hour to devour a quick lunch. Stella had pizza delivered. I waited in the green room to catch a few words with Beth, but she never came for a slice. At the five-minute call, I found her coming back from the stage door. She was frowning at her phone.

“Hey,” I called to her. “Is everything okay?”

Her eyes betrayed surprise at my appearance. Or maybe horror.

“Yeah, sure,” she answered with a strained giggle. “They really need better hold music at Chula Vista Memorial.”

She’d been on hold with the hospital the entire lunch break.

“You need to eat something.”

“I’ve been snacking on trail mix all day,” she said. “You do not want to throw me over your shoulder with an angry belly full of pizza.”

She laughed adorably and artlessly. I loved her laugh. It was sunshine and summer vacation and frozen bananas on Balboa Island. I was addicted to her laugh, and all I could think about was how I could get her to do it again and again. Maybe she’d have dinner with me. There’s only so much trail mix one can eat.

“What about dinner?” I asked. “After rehearsal.”

I probably should have specified it was an invitation to have dinner with me. Darn words getting in the way of what I really wanted to say.

“Great advice.” She snapped with both hands and shot me finger guns.

Good old friend zone finger guns. “I’ll pick up some tacos on the way home.”

“Right,” I said. “It’s Taco Tuesday.”

“Yep.”

“Not to be confused by Taco Wednesday.”

She laughed again. Oh, my heart!

“Definitely not.” Her little nose crinkled in concert with a bright, effervescent smile. “There’s no comparison.”

A soft blush claimed her features, and I let my eyes rest on them like a weary traveler would look upon his home. I could have stayed there the rest of the day had the overture not begun to play. We were late.

“You should probably get into places,” she said with a warm smile.

“Oh, no,” I cried.