Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set Gigi Blume (fantasy books to read .txt) 📖

involvement was in Lydia’s rescue. How did they do it? Did they have an altercation with El Chapo? Was he hurt? What happened to Jorge? Did he get away?

But I couldn’t bring myself to call him. He didn’t want anything to do with me. That was clear. Cole must have called him for help. That’s why he was there. Did Will speak Spanish or something? Ugh! I had to stop asking questions to the air. I’d just drive myself bonkers.

“Dang, girl, I look hot in this pic.” Lydia had gone back to scrolling through her phone. From what I could see, she was deleting the photos with Jorge, but her lighthearted commentary was her coping mechanism.

Stella and Cole returned a few minutes later with the hot chocolate and some cookies for Lydia. Jane and Holly followed soon after with muffins. By the time Nora came into the room, the noise level had gotten so high, we were gently reminded that visiting hours were over, and they’d appreciate it if we took the party elsewhere. We tried to protest that there’d be no party without Lydia, but our quips didn’t work on the night nursing staff. So we left Nora behind and took our turns hugging Lydia goodbye.

“So, what did the doctor say?” Jane whispered to Cole as we walked through the hospital corridors towards the exit. We were told to hush more than a few times, so Jane exaggerated a stage whisper.

“She’ll be fine. She suffered a few blows, broken ribs, first-degree burns. But there’s no organ damage, which is good. She’ll get to go home tomorrow, but she’ll need to rest for the next six weeks.”

“So, she can’t do the show?” asked Holly.

“No.” Cole shook his head with extreme disappointment. “You girls will have to fill in the gaps in the choreography. It’ll work out.”

Lydia didn’t have any solos, so the most negative effect her absence would have on the show would be an imbalance in the pirate to maiden ratio. Poor Denny would be the single pirate.

“Should we finish this conversation over dinner?” I asked the group. It was way past dinnertime, and I was fairly certain Plant Power was closed, but I was getting hangry. I wanted an opportunity to ask more questions of Cole. Like where did Will fit into the whole scheme of things kinds of questions.

“Cole and I had something resembling food at the cafe,” said Stella. “So, we’ll pass. Which reminds me, I should use the loo before that long car ride back to L.A.”

She broke off from the group to find a bathroom, and I joined her in the search. I didn’t have to go. I hadn’t eaten in hours, so there was nothing there. But I wanted to talk to her alone. I needed answers. My questions were really for Cole, but I figured Stella might be more straightforward with me than he would, especially after our little bonding time at the gala.

I waited until she was washing her hands, so it wouldn’t be too awkward. I didn't want to discuss this through a bathroom stall door.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for Lydia,” I said. “You’re a good friend.”

“You’re the good friend,” she said. “I’m just tagging along.”

“And Cole’s gone above and beyond,” I added.

“That he has,” she agreed.

She was drying her hands. Once we left the bathroom, I’d miss my opportunity to talk to her alone. I didn’t want to sound too eager in bringing up Will, but it was now or never.

“Lydia said something,” I hinted. “I thought it might have been the painkillers or maybe she wasn’t in her right mind when Cole found her, but she mentioned Will. Was he there? In Mexico?”

Stella stared at me blankly for a long moment and then responded, “You don’t know?”

“Is this something everybody knows but me?”

And if so, why was I the last to find out?

“Not necessarily,” she said. “Not if William didn’t want it known.”

“Why wouldn't he want it known?”

Stella took my arm and led me out of the bathroom and around a corner where we wouldn’t be seen by our friends.

“I’m going to tell you this,” she said in a whisper, “but if William wanted it to be a secret, you have to honor that and tell no one.”

“Okay,” I said feebly.

“All right.”

She took a deep breath like she was about to settle into a long campfire tale.

“We wouldn’t have been able to find Lydia without him,” she said.

“What?”

“And even if we had, none of us could have negotiated her release the way he did.”

“What do you mean?’

“Those guys never release anyone,” she replied. “They’re not some small fry operation. They have international ties with who knows which human trafficking rings. Lydia was going to be shipped off the continent. Like cattle.”

My head was spinning. I was still confused.

“So what did Will do?”

“I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that he tracked down Jorge. If anyone knows Jorge’s hideouts, it’s Will. Then he paid to get her out.”

“Will paid the bad guys.”

“Oh, yes. They’re businessmen at the end of the day. Money talks.”

“How much?”

“I really couldn’t begin to guess. But I’ll tell you this. Whatever they paid Jorge, they’d be stupid to accept less than ten times that amount.”

My stomach dropped to my knees. Any appetite I had was now obliterated.

“And what about Jorge?”

“Don’t worry. He won’t bother us again.”

“Is he? You know…” I ran my forefinger across my neck.

“No, heavens no.” She laughed. “He’s in custody. But let’s not dwell on these things. What’s done is done.”

She started towards the hospital exit to join our friends but stopped abruptly. “Don’t tell Will I told you this.”

I promised I wouldn’t with a vigorous nod.

“If you must bring it up, blame it on Lydia’s big mouth. It will be more believable.”

29

T Minus One Day

Will

If anyone were to ask me what my ideal Mexican getaway would entail, I would probably wax poetic about the white, sandy beaches of Cozumel or the rich culture of the