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

of her pirate grog down the aisle while the show was on because these ladies were already tanked.

I furrowed my brow as I scrolled through Pinky’s texts. She went from glittery unicorn gifs to crisis mode and back again on a loop. When Emma returned from whatever party went down in the ladies room, she threw her legs over my lap, blocking my mobile.

“Goodness gracious. It’s chock-a-block in the lobby,” she said.

I caught my mobile just before it fell to the floor and grimaced at her high-heeled shoes. “Oi. Watch those weapons.”

“I got you something.” She tossed me a bag of chips.

“Where did you get these?”

“In my aunt’s office,” she declared flippantly. “I know where she keeps her stash.”

“You can’t bring food—or booze—in here,” I scolded. “Even if your aunt owns the theatre.”

Tearing open her own package, she popped a chip in her mouth then another and spoke while chewing. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with your mobile? It was pinging the whole car ride here.”

She was paying attention to me after all.

She took another bite with a loud chomp and tossed her shoes to the floor using her toes. “Ah, that’s better.”

“Are you going to use me as a footrest the entire second act?” I took a deep breath. Because… legs.

“Well, I can’t very well ask Bob.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder toward the elderly gentleman to her right. “We’ve only just met.”

“My legs are going to fall asleep, you know.”

“Just give me another minute. Tell your story first.” Another chip, another loud munch.

I shook my head and sighed heavily, then gave her the briefest update on the dilemma Pinky presented to me earlier. She listened, munching away, and polished off the entire bag. When I had finished by showing her the plethora of texts from Pinky, she kindly removed her legs, slid her shoes back on, and said, “Who do you want to take over the role, then?”

“I have a few people in mind, but I haven’t had a chance to make any phone calls.”

“Hmmm.” Emma raised a brow at me. “What about Becky?”

“Who’s Becky?”

“Helloooo. She was just on stage. The girl Aunt Stella won’t shut up about. We met her the other day, Jax.”

“Beth. For heaven’s sake. Her name is Beth.”

“Right. Beth. Haven’t you been paying attention to the show? She’s cracking me up.”

I was in fact paying attention to the show, and all the performances were more than entertaining. But the role I needed to cast wasn’t a comedic one.

“I don’t know about that—”

“You said you wanted an unknown,” she pressed, “and if you were keen to what I know, you’d pay closer attention to that actress. Are you gonna eat that?” She stole my chips and tore open the bag. Crunch.

“What do you know that I don’t?” I asked with a shade of scepticism.

“Let’s just say my Aunt Stella’s predictions are never wrong.”

I pursed my lips. Dame Stella Gardiner was a pillar in the entertainment industry. She was a highly respected, award-winning actress and producer. I couldn’t help but wonder, however, if lately, she spent far too much of her energy meddling into other people’s love lives. What scared me was that Emma was exactly like her aunt. She couldn’t resist a love match. Even at the expense of her own public image.

“I’ll watch Beth more closely in the second act,” I promised. “But put away the bottle. You know you’re a Cadbury.”

“I’m not even drinking. What do you think the crisps are for?”

“Put those away, too.” I fixed my gaze on her pointedly but found it difficult to keep a straight face. She had crumbs on her chin. I brushed them off gently with my thumb in a casually intimate gesture, and she closed her eyes, parting her lips slightly with a sigh.

Phwoar!

I was saved by the flicker of lights indicating the end of the interval. Soon, the orchestra would play the entr’acte, and the nonsense of Pirates of Penzance would be a welcome distraction.

2

The Game Is Afoot With Fabulous Shoes

Emma

“Did you see what I saw?” I gathered my oversized handbag from the theatre floor and shuffled out of the aisle.

Jaxson pressed his hand into the small of my back, sending delightful shivers up my spine.

“A hilariously entertaining yet campy operetta?” he answered.

“That kiss,” I replied. “I’m pretty sure there’s more of that going on backstage.”

“I have no doubt there must be a few showmances, Emma.” Jaxson leaned in and whispered in my ear, “It’s actually quite common.”

I turned to face him so abruptly, his chest crashed into mine, and he hooked his arm around my waist to keep me from falling backward. His eyes lit in flames, and the corners of his mouth curled into a deeper grin.

For a split second, his stare was white hot, and I had to clear my throat to chill the volcano in my core.

“I’ve never hooked up with a co-star,” I said adamantly.

His gaze dipped to my mouth, and with that cheeky grin still in place, he twisted a lock of my hair playfully around his forefinger and said, “Not yet.”

My knees buckled, and his grip on my waist tightened, pressing me against the front of his tuxedo.

“Are you all right?” He searched my features, and I noted the fresh citrus scent of his aftershave. “How much of that rum did you drink, Emma?”

Not a drop. Oh, I was intoxicated, all right, but it had nothing to do with rum. Cradled in Jaxson’s embrace was a dangerous position to be in, and I needed to snap out of it. His face was so close to mine, I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

“Jax?”

“Yes, Emma.” The timbre of his voice was deep and resonating like a thousand mountain dwarves. I had a sudden desire to search for forgotten gold somewhere in Middle Earth.

“Promise me something.”

He inched closer to me, if that was possible—his lips a hair’s breadth away from mine.

“Anything,” he whispered.

Stiff upper lip. Emma.

“Promise me—no matter