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

whole nightclub rubbish, but I didn’t want to say so. It was a destination wedding of sorts. The hotel Coronado was a good three-hour drive away. I was a bridesmaid, so we had rooms for the weekend. But since the bridesmaids were riding together in a party van on Friday, Jaxson would have to make the drive Saturday morning alone. Perhaps I could convince him to drive Harriet and then ask Elton to take her home after the reception. But my hopes on that score were shattered when Jaxson told me he planned on driving down on Friday. I’d almost forgotten he had a beach house in La Jolla. He called it his bungalow because that’s pretty much what it was; the tiny mid-century two-bedroom house overlooked the ocean. At least we could carpool back to L.A. together.

Jaxson and I chatted for a while longer before saying good night, and I shut off the telly. I felt so much lighter without our disagreement hanging over my head. I could turn my thoughts to the wedding and all the fun I’d have with my gal-pals. I did feel bad about leaving Mum for the weekend, so in the morning, I invited her as my plus one. She declined, turning her nose up at wedding food.

“Everything is either prepared with butter or hydrogenated oils,” she declared. “And don’t get me started on the cake. My insulin went up just thinking about it.”

I tried to convince her she wouldn’t develop diabetes by attending a wedding, but she was beyond reason. She promised to pack me some healthy options so I wouldn’t be tempted.

Later at rehearsal, a pleasant surprise awaited me. Harriet arrived ahead of me, having driven her clunker, and as I wandered in, I saw a vision that exploded my little matchmaker heart. Elton was at the piano singing a duet with Harriet. She had her hand on his shoulder, leaning in to read the sheet music, and the smile on his face was everything. His cheeks were all aglow, his eyes, bright with mirth, and there was an energy in his posture I’d not noticed before. This was a man in love. If only Jaxson could walk in to see the pair. He’d have to serve himself a piece of humble pie. It was only a matter of time before another wedding gave us something to celebrate.

When Elton spotted me, he stopped playing and summoned me over to the piano. Harriet bit her bottom lip like a rabbit with a silly grin, and they both looked a little giddy—like they had a secret. HA! I could tell when love was in the air. I made it my life’s study. Such amateurs.

“That was a sweet little song,” I said, smiling. “You two harmonize well together.”

As Elton’s blush deepened, his eyebrows looked like shrimp cocktail covered in blonde fuzz. The poor man was so fair; I imagined he’d get sunburn from watching Moana.

“It’s for our collection,” said Harriet.

“Collection?”

Elton beamed. “I was inspired by the song you wrote, so I composed this over the weekend. We can add it as a ‘B’ side so to speak.”

I wanted to say something cheeky like ‘The eighties rang. They want their record lingo back.’ But I held my tongue and smiled, happy for Harriet. Elton eagerly played the song from the beginning, singing with the counter notes while Harriet joined in with harmonies.

“Can you sight-read?” Elton asked between measures. “Come closer so you can sing with us.”

“No, I’m good right here,” I replied. I was enjoying the sight of the happy couple too much to interfere. Three would be a crowd. The two of them sang and played with such feeling, I almost cried. The lyrics were masked in a poetic form, but there was no doubt about it. Elton had written a love song.

“It’s gorgeous,” I gushed after the last note rang in the air. I was already picturing a flash mob at their wedding where Harriet’s bridal party would break out into chorus, singing this very song. It had that lyrical musical theatre vibe to it as only a Tony Award-winning composer could create. I was simply awestruck. And how incredibly romantic of him. Surely, anything Martinez could do would pale by comparison.

“You really like it?” he said with unflagging hope. “I thought I’d call it Monarch of the Sea.”

“Very nice,” I replied. “A double meaning.”

“Oh?” he said, a shadow of a grin on his features. “How so?”

“Monarch could refer to royalty, but it could also be a Monarch butterfly, representing new life. Hope—or a budding relationship perhaps.”

“Whoa!” cried Harriet. “That’s so deep.”

“Just interpreting what I hear in the music,” I replied.

Elton replied with a measure of bashfulness how much my opinion mattered to him and what an honour it would be if I could spend time learning the song with him. But Jaxson burst in the room like a man with his very own weather system. He was a tropical storm, a tornado, and a lazy summer afternoon all rolled up into one fine man. I couldn’t help but gravitate to his orbit. I was, after all, just a moon illuminated by the light of his sunny rays. I loved watching Jaxson work—the way he commanded the room with his mere presence. It was the mark of a brilliant man, and I never tired of his fierce genius. And when he really meant business, he was stern and silent. The frown he wore while he was concentrating—how his brows dipped, crinkling his forehead when he didn’t think anyone was looking. I wanted to poke my finger into the skin between his brows just to see if the creases would bounce back. And when he caught my gaze, I wanted to run my thumbs over the laugh lines around his eyes so I could feel something tangible in his smile. My heart leapt happily. There was none other like him in the business. How fortunate we all were.

My day had every promise of