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

assembled. “I want to let you know I couldn’t be happier about all the hard work everyone has put into this project. Amazing work, really. Just fantastic.”

He started a round of applause, encouraging everyone to join him.

“As you know, at this point, all we need is to get green lit, and I am confident once the studio execs see you do your thing, they’ll have no choice but to pick us up. You guys are ready. You are so ready. When they come, we’ll be ready for them.”

Okay, he was rambling. How many times did he have to tell us we were ready? I knew he was nervous about this picture. He’d put in so much of his own money already. The studios didn’t make movie musicals anymore like they used to. It was a huge risk, and Jaxson was anything but confident.

“Which brings me to the next order of business.”

Aaand that’s where the monkey threw the poop. The executives weren’t coming. Something about a scheduling misunderstanding. Jaxson kept talking, explaining the situation, but it was like he was trying to sprinkle glitter all over rotten bananas. No matter how much they sparkled, they were still rotten bananas. The mistake was clearly Pinky’s fault. He uttered phrases like blessing in disguise and more time to make it perfect, but I knew he was freaked out. So many things could go wrong by the time the session could get rescheduled.

I wondered why Jax didn’t tell me what was going on. I had a mind to be quite cross with him if my anger wasn’t directed at Pinky. Seriously, that woman was so incompetent. And to think Annie and Randall had to cut their honeymoon short for nothing.

I didn’t hear anything more of Jaxson’s speech. Everything he said after that was different variations of the same thing anyhow. He dismissed everyone but the design and production team. I decided to stay and chat with Stella. I wasn’t looking forward to admitting defeat about my matchmaking failure, but the bandage had to be ripped off my pride.

I heard a strained ‘come in’ as I tapped on the door to her office. I’d brought my wallet along fully prepared to pay out whatever Stella demanded for winning the bet. Upon walking in, I found her on her yoga mat in a rather exaggerated downward dog position, her rump high in the air. She wore her signature black leotard and tight leggings, but the kimono she usually wore to cover her little bumps and rolls was draped over a nearby chair.

The image would be forever burned into my eyeballs.

“Perhaps you should lock your door next time you do yoga,” I said with a wince.

Stella shifted to a triangle pose and smirked. “A trip into my office isn’t for the faint of heart, my dear. Even when I am fully clothed.”

“Right.”

“But since I like to give you my full attention, I’ll finish later.”

She stood upright, steepled her hands, and gave me a tiny bow.

“Namaste.”

I mirrored her with a bow of my own. “Domo arigato, Mister Roboto.”

Stella dabbed her forehead with paper tissues and slipped into her kimono.

“How are things going, poppet?”

I blew out a heavy sigh and plopped into the soft chair she reserved for business visits. “It’s all sixes and sevens.”

“Why, what’s wrong, dear?”

“The studio isn’t sending anybody, and I’m almost certain it’s Pinky’s fault. Jaxson would never admit to it, though.”

“Oh, I knew that.” Stella batted her hand as she walked around to sit behind her desk.

“You did? How?”

“These walls have ears. But let’s not talk about that. I wanted to know how things are going… with you.”

I nodded at the jar she kept on her desk filled with cash and IOU notes.

“I want you to know I’m done. I quit. Fin-ee-toe. You win the bet.”

Stella blinked at me for a moment and then bubbled over in laughter. “Oh, Emma. Does this have anything to do with that Elton fellow?”

“Well, yes.”

“Oh, that’s of no consequence. ‘Tis but a scratch.”

Leave it to my aunt to quote Monty Python in my hour of distress.

“I’m serious,” I protested. “I’m done with matchmaking.”

“Nonsense. I won’t have it.”

“It’s not nonsense, and you will have it.” I opened my wallet and threw my cash at her. “I lost.”

Stella watched me empty my wallet until nothing but sushi receipts remained, and I dumped those on her desk for good measure. She didn’t say anything for a very long time. She only studied me with that silly smirk spread across her face. It made my gesture a little less dramatic.

“You know, I wouldn’t have accepted your little Elton conquest anyhow. The match you have to make is a much harder cookie to crack.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me before I made a fool of myself?”

“Because this is something you have to learn on your own. Someday I’ll tell you my story, but you won’t understand it until you have your own to tell.”

“Must you be so cryptic?

“Yes. Because the answer is right in front of you. All you need to do is take a few steps back to see it.”

“Why do I feel like I’m in a quirky adaptation of Kung Fu Panda?”

Stella waved me off. “Run along. I’ll store these for safekeeping.” She collected the money and sushi receipts from her desk and stuffed them in her jar.

22

Simple-Minded Creatures

Emma

I slogged back into the Cry Room, more confused than anything, just as Jax was saying his goodbyes to the design and production team. I caught the last of them shuffling out the door, Pinky taking up the rear. The only two that remained were Annie and Randall. Annie took Jax by the arm and asked if he was planning on attending The Oscars. “Randall is up for Best Art Design,” she said proudly.

Jaxson responded rather curtly he had no intention of going—which I knew meant he wasn’t being himself. Jaxson loved award shows. Not because he believed in the establishment, but he loved the entertainment.

“I remember you telling me