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

I found myself once again at the one place I swore I’d never set foot in again. The parking lot for Lucas Lodge was surprisingly full for its lunch crowd. I knew it was a popular place among Hollywood types--I’d seen the autographed photos on the wall--I just couldn’t imagine why. I scanned the cars in the lot for Beth’s atrocious clunker. A part of me hoped I wouldn’t find it, the other part of me, the sadistic part, was disappointed when I didn’t. What was wrong with me? Pathetic.

But then, because I was an obsessed idiot, I got out of my car and walked around the parking lot just to, you know, prove to myself I was indeed an obsessed idiot. And that’s when I noticed the beat-up old Volvo hiding behind a delivery truck. She’d parked near the back, away from where the customers parked.

I must have stood there in the parking lot, staring at Beth’s car for several minutes, deciding what to do next. Go in and face my demons or peel out of there and stuff them in the back of my head where they could torment me the rest of my days? Schrank.

Oh, fabulous. Now I had Musical Theatre Tourette’s. I had to get that girl out of my headspace. She had set up residency there, and I didn’t like the way she decorated it.

I was inside the lodge, getting seated by that same odd man before I knew what I was doing.

“Here you are again, sir,” he groveled. “I knew it wouldn’t be long before you were back. Come in and take the best seat in the house.”

There was a best seat in the house? The only seat I was concerned with was the one where I could observe Beth surreptitiously. I wasn’t so lucky. I hadn’t been hiding behind my menu for long before I saw her approach my table. She wore the biggest frown I’d ever seen, and her eyes were set on kill mode. She deposited a bottle of Bud Lite in front of me with a clunk. No glass. No cocktail napkin. Then she walked away. That horrendous costume she had to wear swooshed as she retreated, leaving lots to the imagination. The way she swayed her hips made the skirt swing side to side; it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I guess I’d always had an over-active imagination. Did I have a weird obsession for medieval maidens? Possibly.

She ignored me for the next hour. I would have been upset with any other waitress in the same situation. But I was relieved. I let the beer sit in front of me untouched. The condensation had long disappeared—it dripped down the bottle and left a soaked ring on the table and now was likely flat and warm. I glanced a few times at my menu whenever Beth was out of sight. Nothing appealed to me. My stomach was in too many knots to eat anything. She approached the bar a few times to chat with her co-worker. The bartender, a twenty-something girl with thick-rimmed glasses and a face full of freckles, would glance my way then whip her head back to Beth. I knew they were talking about me. Probably conspiring to slip poison in my next drink. But the next drink never came. The poison was delivered in the occasional snide glances Beth condescended to give whenever she passed to wait on another table.

This idea of mine was the most asinine thing to come out of the bowels of my brain. Ever. It was worse than the time I thought it would be fun to skydive. What was I doing there, stalking a woman like a scary clown? I didn’t even have a plan beyond finding her car in the parking lot. I didn’t know what I would say to her if she did decide to pay any attention to me. All my faculties left me as I crossed the threshold to this fluffed-up elks lodge. I’d bet my car they pumped opium through the vents. But Beth worked without much apparent aggravation from the opium or me for that matter. She did her job with swift efficiency, greeting customers with a genuine smile never once bestowed upon myself since I’d known her. She had an effervescent smile that reached her chocolate eyes with a small glint of playfulness. There was an indulgent merriment behind them—like she had a secret too fabulous to share. I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to know everything.

No! This experiment wasn’t working. It was supposed to remind me how much of a bad idea it was to obsess over Beth. I was perfectly content with my career and my dog. I wanted my life back.

The faux leather portfolio holding my bill appeared on the table.

“Anything else?” Beth had her arms crossed, waiting for my reply. The smile had been replaced once again with a scowl. I had to laugh at that scowl. It was strange I found humor in it, but I realized in that moment the sourpuss face she wore was reserved only for me. Everyone else was the recipient of her smiles. But I was the only one to deserve her frowns. You have to admit—that’s pretty funny and ironic. Especially since it dawned on me that my grumpy attitude was likewise reserved for her.

I reached for the check itemizing my one beer. “Three dollars and fifty cents?”

Beth ticked her head to the side. “Is there a problem?”

“How does this place stay in business?” I shook my head. “Never mind.”

I slipped a credit card from my wallet and placed it in the bill holder. But as she reached for it, I stopped her hand with mine and held it there flat against the table for several moments, catching her eyes. Her hand was so tiny and delicate. I could have devoured it in my grip and pulled her