Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set by Gigi Blume (ebook reader with highlighter txt) đź“•
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- Author: Gigi Blume
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Lady pattered along beside his feet, happily trotting in step with her human. They kind of looked alike. The golden streaks in Will’s light brown locks whooshed in the breeze while her silky fur bounced with every spring in her step. And there I was, running along on the other side of him, bounding past people with huge stuffed animals and balloons, people of all different backgrounds. I could have sworn I almost bumped into Lady Gaga.
When we reached Stella, she and a pretty, button-nosed girl were laughing brightly, drinking beer. By the looks of it, and her ruddy cheeks, they’d been at it a while. Actually, it took them about a minute before they realized Will was right next to them. It was rather cute to see him apologize profusely, passing her a phone from his pocket. She looked at him with glassy eyes, then back at the girl, and they both spat in a burst of laughter.
“I’d completely forgotten about you, William.”
He combed a hand through his hair, giving it a deliberate tousled look. Lady broke free of his grip on her leash and perched her front legs on the pretty girl’s lap. It was then that Stella noticed me.
“Here you are, Beth,” she slurred. “I was just about to call you.”
“How many beers have you had, Stella?” Will stared down at the woman with his hands on his waist. The girl was the one to answer.
“One and a half,” she said with a bright smile and stood from her folding chair to shake my hand. “I’m Georgia.”
Georgia. I should have known. She looked more mature than the photo I’d seen in the bathroom and her bright, easy personality caught me off guard. I guess Jorge had tainted my expectations.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, taking her hand. “My name’s Beth.”
“Oh, I know.” She wiggled her brows and winked at Will. Stella laughed again.
“One and a half?” Will asked incredulously. “Cups or gallons?”
Georgia shrugged. “She’s a lightweight.”
“Good heavens!” cried Stella, openly assessing my appearance. “What happened to you?”
“She got caught in the line of fire,” Will said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Saved my life.”
Stella volleyed her eyes between us. “Indeed.”
Will’s arm on my shoulder gave me heart palpitations. Couldn’t he feel it pounding out of my chest? Trying to conceal it was akin to holding in gas. I think I made one of those vein-popping squishy faces that accompanies extreme discomfort. Whether he noticed it, I couldn’t tell, but his arm dropped from my shoulder, and he stepped away awkwardly. He crossed his arms, then put his hands in his pockets, then crossed his arms again. My shoulder already missed his touch.
“I best be going,” I said, gesturing to the stain on my dress. If this were a regular carnival, I wouldn’t care so much, but I knew it was an important affair for Stella, and she didn’t need a ragamuffin like me hanging around.
“Nonsense,” she cried. “We need you at dinner. Who will sing the duet with Will?”
“What duet?”
Will shifted on his feet. “I haven’t told her yet.”
Haven’t told me what exactly?
“You haven't told her?” Stella bleated. “What have you two been doing all this time?”
Well… should we start with getting caught in his bedroom or jump to sparks flying in our orbit?
“Eating,” said Will.
Yeah, that too.
“Can we back up here?” I said. “What duet?”
The two women exchanged a conspiring glance. Will sighed with resignation.
“Stella wants us to sing Mabel and Frederic’s duet from the second act,” he said with a shifty sideways glance. “For tonight’s gala.”
My jaw dropped just enough for sound to escape in a squeak. “Me? I thought you were looking for a replacement for Bing.”
Stella grinned, and her eyes sparkled. I wasn’t sure if that was the effect of the alcohol or the ideas going off in her head.
“Will is the replacement for Bing,” she said, nodding her head at Will. “But that means we can’t do the Pair of Ducks song, and we have to do at least two numbers.”
Will bristled. “For the last time, It’s Paradox. Not Pair of Ducks.”
“Well…” I had to find a way out of this. Anything to spare me the pressure of singing in front of some of the most influential people in the business. “I don’t think I could do that. I don’t know the song, and I—”
“Don’t play coy with me.” Stella’s eyes suddenly became steely. Also, I’m sure she was far more sober than she let on. “You know the song. You were Mabel in college.”
How did she know that? I left that credit off my resume when it started getting too fat. Which was a good problem to have as far as resumes go.
“Well… um…” I looked at Will. Did he know the song? If I were honest, singing with him made me more nervous than singing in front of Hollywood’s powerhouses. Performing was what I lived for. That was the kind of opportunity one didn’t pass up. He turned his head towards me, silently asking the same questions. A week ago, I loathed the man. Could I pull this off? Could he? Would he want to?
Stella snapped us out of our little moment by the clapping of her palms. “It’s settled then,” she said with finality. “Let’s get to work.”
Get to work, indeed. We had a few short hours to rehearse the music, learn the blocking, and commit to memory the songs we were to perform for the gala. Will’s load was double my own because he was in two numbers. It was fascinating to watch his process. He relied on the sheet music for only the first couple of run-throughs, and from then on out, strode through the rest of rehearsal with confidence, dedicating his focus on technique. He was an incredible scene partner, and I was somewhat bristled by the fact I’d only reluctantly admitted he was
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