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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Don’t rip my heart out, don’t speak at all.
Show that you want me, don’t speak at all.
Energetic applause met the last note of the song, and Elton smiled before returning his guitar to the stand and sitting back down at the table. He took a sip from his water bottle as the hoots and hollers died down. A lot of it was the excitement at workshopping a new movie musical. However, Elton was amazing. He could really sing. I wondered why the man didn’t perform in his own shows. Seriously, how was this guy still single? I glanced to see Jaxson’s reaction, but he was just nodding, like, yeah, I’ve heard my buddy Elton sing a thousand times before, moving on. Harriet, who sat next to Pinky at a separate table along the wall (this was for suits, non-cast creatives, and designers) clapped most enthusiastically of all. I swore I saw Elton turn to wink at her.
Aha! Lightbulb moment. I volleyed my eyes between the two of them and congratulated myself for having such keen perception. They’d be so cute together. It was more perfect than I could have imagined. Harriet and Elton. I couldn’t wait to parade my victory all over Stella’s office—or wherever she decided to keep that money jar. And wouldn’t Jax be delighted when I used my winnings to pay for a trip to see his family in Australia? I decided to surprise him with the holiday anyway to celebrate his success with Field of Hearts, but now I had even more of an incentive.
We finished the table read early with only a few stops along the way. When the last note rang out from the final song, the whole cast and crew applauded. We were all buzzing with the creativity crackling between us. I couldn’t wait to celebrate. Congratulate Jax and chat it up over drinks and food.
“We can make happy hour at Tapeo,” I said to Jax when we’d wrapped for the day. “I’ll buy you a sangria.”
He grimaced, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”
“A scotch then?”
He sighed, gathering his piles of sheet music, script pages, and countless notes on a legal pad and offered me a tight smile.
“I need to stay and work out some kinks with the guys,” he said. By ‘the guys,’ he meant Elton and Morris. I understood this was a huge project, subject to lots of tweaking in the workshopping process. There’d be plenty of late nights while they worked it out. I felt a little petty and helpless in the whole business, taking off to a trendy Spanish restaurant while they went over the notes from the table read, making changes here and there. But what could I possibly have to offer if I stayed?
“Want me to run out for sandwiches?” I offered. Surely, they were hungry after two run-throughs of the script.
“Pinky’s making a Five Guys run,” he replied. “Go on home. I’ll call you later.”
Go on home. I’ll call you later. As if. I was a grown woman. Nothing was stopping me from happy hour at Tapeo if I so chose to go. Fortunately, Harriet was keen to go out with me, especially since she no longer had to wait tables at that karaoke bar.
“What did you think of today’s rehearsal?” I asked Harriet as we snacked on tapas. Tapeo had the best happy hour on the planet, and the clientele was used to celebrity sightings, so it was no big deal. The only reason I went during happy hour was because they didn’t serve the same dishes on their dinner menu. The small bites, which rotated daily, were exclusive between the hours of three and seven p.m. The chef specialties were always a surprise and didn’t disappoint. The only thing I couldn’t stomach was the octopus they brought out one time. Never again.
“It was surreal,” replied Harriet. “I could hardly believe I was in the room with so many famous people. I almost cried.”
“Well, get used to it; this is your life now.”
“I can’t thank you enough. It’s like a dream come true.”
“Pish posh.” I waved her off. “This is your destiny. You would have gotten there yourself eventually. I’m just glad I could be a part of it.”
We clinked glasses and toasted to our good fortune and future success. I knew she had a bright future. I could feel it in my painted toenails. I could just picture Elton serenading her like he’d done earlier at rehearsal. She’d smile and sing a duet with him, and they’d make beautiful music together, if you catch my drift. I could think of nothing more adorable than that.
Our waiter, an Antonio Banderas wannabe in a black silk shirt, approached our table, placing a creamy-looking shot in front of Harriet.
“Compliments of the bartender,” he said, nodding. “Errr… would you like one too, Miss Woods?”
Harriet glanced over her shoulder to find the bartender in question, wiggling his fingers at her.
“No, I do not, thank you,” I said indignantly. “And you may take that back.”
The waiter, more confused than compliant, reached for the shot glass, but Harriet impeded him by taking the drink and toasting the bartender with gratitude. The waiter bowed and slinked away.
“Who is that guy?”
“Oh, we worked together at Karaoke Unplugged. I had no idea he works here too.”
“Hmmm. Seems dodgy to me.”
She giggled and stole another glance at the bartender. Her cheeks glowed with a warm flush of pink, which really showed up like crazy on her fair skin.
“Martinez? He’s the nicest guy I know,” she said, smiling. “He plays bass
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