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

warmly and led me by the hand to the front of the house where tall tables draped in black linen dotted much of the lobby area. Wood carved in the shape of pirate ships served as centerpieces, and a small line formed in front of a sea scene painted on a canvas backdrop for photo ops. Stella was still in costume, posing with a glamorous couple sporting tricorn hats and the provided pirate-themed props. Champagne flute in one hand and a cutlass in the other.

“Well, we came,” Will said. “Can I have you to myself now?”

“Not so fast, lover boy,” Charlotte interjected.

Lover boy?

She was stunning in a one-shoulder jumpsuit and Colin—proudly at her side with a mouthful of whatever hors d'oeuvres they were serving. It made me remember how hungry I was.

I gave Charlotte and Colin hugs which were followed by gushing and congratulations. Will shook hands with Colin and praised his contribution, in which Colin blushed, feigned modesty, then said, “The choreography was pretty good, wasn’t it?”

“We couldn’t have done it without you,” I said. “Although… I’d be surprised if your boss will let you work here again.”

“I’m afraid that was my fault,” added Will.

Charlotte tilted her head to the side and squeezed her eyes to inquisitive slits. Colin had a similar expression but quickly amended it with the realization of what we were referring to.

“If you’re talking about the scene Catherine de Bourgh made when she stormed out of the theatre,” he said, “I wouldn’t worry.”

“You know about that, huh?” I asked.

“Everybody knows about that.” He laughed. “She made a fool of herself in front of a lot of important people.”

“I’m so sorry,” I sympathized. “If you lose your job because of me—”

“Ha! I left the studio last week. Charlotte convinced me to start my own business.”

He squeezed Charlotte’s arm and scrunched his nose, making pucker lips at her. It was disturbing and adorable at the same time. Charlotte was on board, so that was all that mattered.

“Colin’s teaching tango classes at the lodge every Thursday,” she said proudly. “Dad’s not charging him, so he can save up for his own studio.”

“That’s fantastic news,” I exclaimed. “Congratulations.”

“Yes,” Will echoed. “Congratulations.”

“You’ll have to come one Thursday after the show closes,” said Charlotte.

I glanced up at Will with a questioning look. Would he be up to that sort of thing?

He shrugged and shot me that devastating smile. “I said anywhere.”

He did indeed. As long as we were together.

We exchanged more hugs and handshakes with Charlotte and Colin before they took leave of us. I could tell Will was itching to call it a night—at least where this party was concerned. The anticipation played on his features like a child expecting birthday cake.

“Why did you say the whole Catherine de Bourgh drama was your fault? I’m the one that ticked her off.”

Will, who hadn’t let go of my hand since I exited my dressing room, lifted his free hand to my chin.

“She waited backstage for me and chewed my head off after my solo. She told me everything. All your responses to her threats. And I laughed.”

“That must have really chapped her hide.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “But it gave me hope. You could have said anything to appease her. But instead, you refused to promise not to be with me. I didn’t think I had a chance with you until then.”

His eyes searched mine, and softly brushing his lips to kiss me, punctuated his sincere declaration. And for anyone in our vicinity who might have witnessed that, my inner fangirl was fist-pumping in their faces.

Oh yeah. Who’s with this hunk? This girl!

Satisfied we’d done our duty to make an appearance, we resolved to get to wherever anywhere was. We almost made it, too. But Stella caught us and made a desperate plea for us to stay for a moment longer.

“I won’t keep you for very long,” she said with the hint of a slur. She wasn’t drinking champagne, I could tell that much. By the oaky aroma wafting from her snifter, my guess was tequila. She winked. “We’ll make this quick.”

She led us into a supply closet off the ticket booth where programs and those velvet stanchion ropes were kept. As we stuffed ourselves in there, I noticed it was already occupied by two other people. Her grand-niece Emma and her director friend Jaxson. They giggled like teenagers, probably at some joke, but most likely aided by the bottle of Pyrat Rum on the shelf. Not tequila, then. When she saw me, Emma threw her arms around my neck and gave me a huge smack on the cheek.

“You, mate, are brilliant. Why didn’t you tell me she was brilliant?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “I did.” She held out her tumbler to Jaxson who took the bottle off the shelf and gave her a refill.

“Ummm…” I responded. “Thank you?”

I didn’t want to argue or anything, but I hardly thought my performance was brilliant. I only had five lines.

Jaxson held up the bottle of rum to offer us a glass. Will and I both declined respectfully. Alcohol wasn’t a good idea on an empty stomach.

“We really enjoyed the show,” said Jaxson, toasting his glass in the air. “Congratulations on your success.”

Will returned the sentiment with a sincere smile and tipped an imaginary hat. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Emma broadened her eyes at Will in surprise. I knew that look. It was the expression of someone who had the same opinion of him than I did and was maybe softened by the idea she misjudged him. Then her eyes drifted to my hand in his, and she raised a brow at Stella who returned the eyebrow wiggle with a triumphant smirk.

“So, Beth, what does your schedule look like for the next few months?” Jaxson asked.

“My schedule?”

Other than reconsidering my whole life?

Jaxson went on. “We have a project in the works, and we begin rehearsals in a week. One of the actresses we cast broke her leg. Literally.”

“Ski accident,” chimed in Emma.

“We were