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

“I’m so sorry.” I handed her a napkin, hoping my face displayed my sympathy as much as I felt it. “How did you know?”

She shrugged, sniffling to block the tears. “I just figured, that’s all. I always had the feeling he was out of my league.”

“He is not out of your league. If anything, he’s not good enough for you, the cheeky blighter. All he wanted was a hook-up.”

“Did he try to hook up with you?”

“Harriet, it could have been anybody this weekend. If you’d have been there, he would have just used you for a one-night stand and then it would have been too late to see his true colours. You dodged a bullet by not going to the wedding. Believe me.”

Her face went white, and little basins of tears formed in her eyes. “You… turned him down, didn’t you?”

“Sweetheart.” I pulled her into a hug, trapping her bowl of ice cream between us. “Why do you think he flew back to New York with his tail between his legs? He’s too ashamed to show his face around us. You and me together—we’re like Thelma and Louise… without the dying bit.”

She laughed and cried, then cried some more, opening the floodgates of blubbertown. I gave her another napkin, and she blew her nose.

“Thank you for being such a good friend, Emma.”

Me? Not likely. I was the worst kind of friend. Firstly, I’d been feeding her false hope for weeks, only to destroy it like a barbarian. Second, I must have appeared completely ungracious to be the focus of Elton’s attentions. And third, I completely mis-judged all the signs, all my observations, all my predictions and was grossly mistaken. In short, I was a sham of a matchmaker and a phony of a friend. Harriet, on the other hand, was all modesty, all sweetness, and by far the better person between us two.

“I wouldn’t have even looked at Elton if it wasn’t for you—”

“That’s exactly why I’m not a good friend. I encouraged you to go for a terrible guy. I wouldn’t even want to be my friend.”

“No, Emma.” Harriet squeezed my hand. “You made me realize my potential. Nobody else would have done that for me. You’ve changed me. Given me more confidence. I’ll never forget that.”

Now she had me crying. We were a bawling, sobbing pair. This was what Jaxson meant when he encouraged me to find someone with whom I could share sad and wonderful secrets. Jaxson was the best friend I’d ever known, but I couldn’t picture crying into my ice cream with him in the tool shed. I stumbled upon a revelation of clarity with ugly tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn’t have to make a difference in Harriet’s life to be her friend. She was the one to make a difference in mine. It was an uneven relationship, if I was being perfectly honest. I got way more out of it than she did.

We blew our noses and laughed at the absurdity of wailing on the sofa in James’ tool shed over melted ice cream and dreamily admired each other’s puffy faces. We were having a moment. A girl moment.

“I promise I will never try to set you up with a guy ever again. As your friend, I will support you if you find someone you like—but make sure he truly deserves you. I don’t even want you to tell me his name until it’s official. That way you know I’m not trying to sway your judgement.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about me falling for another guy anytime soon. I’m going to concentrate on my career.”

“Good for you. Smart woman.”

She held out her hand for a pinkie swear. “Single pringles?”

I shook her pinkie.

“Single pringles.”

19

Jazzercize, Don’t Eat Those Fries

Jaxson

We finally had a full cast although Emma wouldn’t agree with me. Beth Bennet rang me Monday night to tell me she’d been cast as the lead in a found-footage thriller. It was a gritty flick by two young up-and-coming filmmakers and a good opportunity. Although I was disappointed she couldn’t stay on with us, I knew she deserved better than a bit part. True, she wasn’t a big name, but she soon would be, and it wasn’t fair to tease her with the role of Isabelle only to take it away again. I would have to go over the contracts with Pinky to make sure she didn’t make the same mistake again in the future. Even so, I took all the responsibility upon myself; I should have paid closer attention to the particulars of the movie instead of buying a karaoke bar. My timing couldn’t have been worse.

Field of Hearts was too big a project to leave to chance, yet I found myself second-guessing my choices. It was the wrong time to take Pinky on as line producer no matter how wild her enthusiasm. It meant I had to carry some of her load. I needed more support above the line, but the budget was wearing thin. I couldn’t hire anyone else at this point.

Thank heavens for Martínez. If it weren’t for him, Karaoke Unplugged would have gone down the drain. I soon discovered running a nightclub wasn’t as easy as it looked, especially if you know nothing about the hospitality industry. He kept in touch with me every night—usually by text—to tell me how business was picking up. The club was in the black for the first time in several months, and I knew it had very little to do with my input and everything to do with his fresh ideas. He was a brilliant manager.

My attentions were better focused on making movies. With only a few days until the studio sent execs to green light the film, time was precious to rehearse scenes and choreography. It wasn’t required—a dramatized table-read with songs performed behind music stands were all they expected. But I wanted to give them the unexpected. I wanted to give them absolutely no reason