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

story about a man who searches the world for his destiny. Sounds kind of sappy saying aloud, but—”

“No! It doesn’t sound sappy at all. Imagine the guys that had to pitch South Pacific. A man who falls in love with a woman across a crowded room? Pah-lease.”

He gave me a blank look. Oh.

“You have one of those scenes in your play, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Too cliché?”

“I’m sure yours is awesome.” I suddenly felt like a jerk.

He continued to play and smiled proudly. “It is, actually.”

Knowing Fitz, I didn’t doubt it.

He sighed, and I could see a shadow come over his expression. Something that ran deep.

“Funny how art imitates life, huh?” I nudged him with my elbow. It was probably a little more accurate than I realized. He stopped noodling his finger over the keys and placed his hands on his lap, turning to face me.

“Have you ever heard the song Somebody by Depeche Mode?” he asked.

“Uh… no.”

Wasn’t that some emo eighties band?

“It’s all about how he wants somebody to share the rest of his life with, someone to confide his innermost thoughts, that knows him so well—all of his faults—and loves him anyway. Somebody who will even convince him to see things differently, and although they might disagree, they understand each other… because…love!” He gently stroked the ivories. “I want that.”

He looked into my eyes, searching, wondering if he was the only silly romantic in the room. It was a moment. It was heart bleeding share time. Also we were tipsy.

“Aaaaanyway.” He shrugged it off and started playing a ragtime riff. “Who needs that kind of salmagundi?” He smiled, losing himself in the upbeat tempo. “Especially after what Will told me.”

Hold the phone.

“Will? What did Will tell you?”

“Oh, just something about a friend who almost threw his career down the toilet over a girl.”

What the actual Tevye?

It couldn’t be he was talking about Bing? “What…what do you mean? What friend?”

“I don’t know. He’s got lots of friends. Could be anyone.”

I didn’t want to come off as desperate, but I really needed this information. I figured he would be more apt to tell me the details if I didn’t act like some psycho beating answers out of him. Plus we’d had a moment.

“Well,” I said, trying to remain calm, “what exactly did he say?”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I looked into his eyes. Those blue beautiful icicle eyes. “Fitz. Hey. It’s me, here.”

He stopped playing his ragtime tune and twisted his body slightly on the bench to conspire with me. “All he said was that he persuaded his friend to think twice about this woman.” He held up his palms. “I don’t know what was wrong with her. Probably some kind of harpy. But he did say it was a close call and he was glad he could talk some sense into this guy.”

It was Bing. I knew it was Bing. Who else could it be? My blood was beginning to boil again. It was so fierce my eyes started to water. It was really feeling hot in there.

“What gave him the right to interfere like that?” I was on the verge of tears. I had to blink them back because, for some stupid reason, I didn’t want Fitz to see me cry. “I mean, can’t his friend think for himself?”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for a girlfriend if she was making a major mistake with a guy?”

My thoughts shot to my confrontation with Charlotte. How I tried to keep her from Colin. It almost destroyed our friendship. And I was so very wrong about them.

“If I did,” I said after a pause, “she wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

He laughed. “People rarely do.”

An announcement by the DJ came from the main ballroom. Ten minutes until midnight. Get your champagne for the countdown. Fitz grinned at me and nodded his head toward the bar.

“Should I get us two glasses each? I say we double fist it into the new year.”

Double fisting sounded great if it meant throwing said fists into Will’s smug face. I nodded in acquiescence and Fitz hurried off to get the champagne. My head was spinning, everything was suddenly unraveling out of control. Everything, all Jane’s suffering, the heartbreak. The telenovelas! All of it was because of Will Darcy. Wasn’t the man miserable enough without dragging his friend down his sick misogynistic path? How dare he ruin the happiness of two of the nicest people ever. I knew Bing couldn’t be so evil as to hurt Jane the way he did. He was just too easily influenced—which admittedly wasn’t a very charming character trait. Still, who knows what kinds of threats there might have been? In the end, it was his arrogant and famous friend that was to blame for inflicting them both with extreme sorrow. Okay, I was being melodramatic, but who does that kind of thing? What did Will have to gain by influencing Bing to break up with Jane? Jane! The most affectionate, generous person anyone could ever hope to love. I wanted to scratch his eyeballs out. That horrid man! And to have the gall to boast about how he tore them apart as if he was bragging about his golf score. Anger washed over me with every perusal of it. I had to get out of there.

Tall elegant forms in glitzy finery crushed against me as I bounded my way against the tide in a sea of party guests. I could barely make it to the nearest door into the courtyard before I imagined myself running out of oxygen. I took a deep breath, inhaling the crisp air. It hit me with a frigid blast, cleansing me from the fire burning between my ears. If there were snow on the ground, I’d stick my head in it and watch steam rise like in cartoons. The best I could do was lose myself in the gardens until I could calm myself down enough to drive home. It was almost midnight and the