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

Then we dug all the juicy details out of her. How Randall planned the perfectly romantic evening, how nervous he was, and how dashing he looked. Then how everything went to pot, and he ended up with a sprained ankle, practically weeping at the end of the night from an endless train of fiascos. And at his lowest point, she asked him to marry her, and he admitted he’d planned to propose that very night.

“I knew he was carrying the ring in his coat pocket when he asked me to fetch his keys.”

“Oh my gosh, did you freak out?” asked Harriet.

Annie smiled. “I waited, thinking the perfect opportunity would arise at some point in the evening. But when it didn’t seem he’d make his move at all, I asked him to marry me right there on the front steps of the Burbank Urgent Care.”

Harriet and I sighed. To think I’d been an integral part in bringing them together—and wouldn’t that show a thing or two to Jaxson. This was a matchmaking triumph beyond anything imaginable. I could hardly wait for Harriet to share a similar story soon.

Before Annie went home, she extended an invitation for her wedding to me and her new friend Harriet. Randall didn’t want a long engagement. Two weeks was about all he could stand.

“We found a hotel in San Diego with a last-minute cancellation, and they gave us a killer deal.” She gave us hugs and waved goodbye to Mum who’d been lurking in the solarium, watching the waves crash on the shore through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I hope you can make it on such short notice,” continued Annie, jiggling her keys. “Randall has a meeting with Jaxson tomorrow, so I’m sure he’ll tell him about the wedding then.”

And to think Jaxson liked to discourage my matchmaking. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he discovered my victory. Annie and Randall getting married. All my hard work paid off.

I shifted my gaze to Harriet. Her bright smile and inner glow lit up the room.

You’re next, my dear. Just wait and see.

7

Perpetual State Of Symmetry

Jaxson

I made sure Friday was a short day. I missed Emma. Sure, we saw each other every day at rehearsals, but that was all business. And lately, all her free time was occupied with whatever sorts of things she did with Harriet. I was beginning to regret the suggestion. I didn’t realize she’d take it to heart with such gusto.

She’d been impossible since Randall Weston came to meet me and the composers about the art design for Field of Hearts on Thursday. I needed an historically accurate feel with enough space for dance numbers. He was the only guy I knew with the ability to execute such a task. But Emma knew he had other news to discuss, and she waited around until he shared it—just to see my reaction. I could tell she was waiting for it by the way she wiggled her brows and watched me while Randall invited us to his wedding to Annie. She whooped about it after Randall left, rubbing it in my face. It was silly. But I was afraid that someday she would go too far. That fear magnified itself when she accosted Elton after we wrapped on Friday and played her little composition for him. Harriet sang. If it could be called singing. She could barely be heard. Her voice was sweet enough, but she lacked a lot of training. Emma didn’t even seem to notice and played away on the piano while Elton watched her, enthralled by the performance of only one of the ladies. Read: not Harriet.

I observed the scene with interest. Emma was so obviously trying to showcase her friend. But why? Surely, she knew there wasn’t a part in the movie for her. She couldn’t be so blind to Harriet’s inexperience. Goddard School, where Harriet studied acting, was nothing more than an overpriced vanity studio. It was one of many ‘acting academies’ designed to prey on young hopefuls, all the while charging exorbitant class fees and delivering very little. I’d seen one of their ads one day in Backstage Magazine with a great big photo of Henry Crawford, one of their alumni. What the suckers reading the ad didn’t know was that Henry only attended Goddard for a nanosecond before getting lucky because of his good looks; he told me so when he worked on my last film. I never wanted to hire him in the first place. But our casting director promised me she could attach Frank Churchill for my musical if I had a place for Henry in my steampunk picture. I still hadn’t figured out her motives. The trade-off was worth it, though. Or it would be if Frank ever returned from his trip abroad. He assured me he’d be at rehearsal Monday. I decided to wait and see before panic set in. Wouldn’t want to alarm Pinky more than she was.

Once Emma finished performing her song, Elton’s applause was so thunderous, Stella was sure to hear it from her office. He was all over himself with adoration. How excellent the structure, how expertly performed, etc. I wanted to hurl. Or throw something. Elton was a Broadway professional. He was doing Emma and her friend a disservice by his ingenuine, overly generous comments.

Emma excused herself from the scene, leaving Harriet alone with Elton. She grinned mischievously as she approached me.

“Why do I get the feeling that song was more than you’re letting on?” I said with my hands resolutely in my pockets. It was my only tactic to refrain from pulling her into my arms whenever she was near.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She planted a quick kiss to my cheek in passing.

“Where are you going?” I called after her, but she disappeared into the hallway. We had our usual Friday dinner plans, and I was hungry. Tonight, her mother offered to cook. Emma