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

“We can practice the lift again after Thanksgiving.” And with a smart clap to her rump, I added, “Don’t eat too much stuffing.”

It was a small but short-lived feeling of satisfaction when I saw her jaw drop to the floor. It wasn’t my finest moment, but the only way I knew how to respond when someone insulted me was to throw it back in her face. I suppose it was low of me, and I almost immediately regretted it. Therefore, I halted my steps on the way out to say one more thing to her.

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Elizabeth—about theatre ghosts or superstitions or movie stars. Maybe get to know me before you form an opinion?”

“If I don’t form it now, I might not get another chance,” she said defiantly.

“I wouldn’t deny you the pleasure,” I replied with a wink, and I left the theatre entirely without a word of goodbye to Stella or Bing or that wannabe queen posing as our choreographer. I was so over this place. Thanksgiving in New York with my sister couldn’t come fast enough.

12

The Yam Incident

Beth

“Get to know me before you form an opinion?” Charlotte exclaimed when I saw her at work. “Guuuurl, that man is sweet on you!”

“What?” I cried. “Good Lord, no. He just has such a huge ego. He can’t stand the thought of anyone alive in the world disliking him.”

“Whatever you say.” She shrugged as she placed the last of the crepe paper turkeys on the tables.

Lucas Lodge was one of the few restaurants in the area open on Thanksgiving. We were scheduled to close at five o’clock, so the staff could celebrate with family, but it still sucked working on a holiday. With any luck, my career would take off, and this would be my last Thanksgiving as a food server. Of course, I’d been telling myself the same thing for years.

“Besides,” I said after a minute’s pause, “he clearly thinks I’m fat.”

“Who?” she asked absently.

“Will Darcy.”

“Oh,” she said. “Are we still talking about him?”

“What did he mean by the stuffing remark? I don’t even like stuffing.”

“Who doesn’t like stuffing?” she cried. “It’s un-American.”

“Lots of people don’t like stuffing. It’s just soggy bread with bits in it. Disgusting.”

She turned from her work to give me one of her serious looks. “What may be disgusting to some people, is a delicacy to others. Don’t knock it.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a metaphor in there somewhere?”

Charlotte was halfway to a degree in philosophy but could only take a few classes a semester. Lucas Lodge would fall apart without her, and she had little time for studies. It made me a little sad because she was too brilliant to stay where she was in life.

“If you find a metaphor in that,” she said, “then it’s your own conscience feeding it to you. No pun intended. But, if we’re on the subject of men…”

I raised my eyes to the ceiling. “Here we go.”

“Never mind,” she huffed.

“No, go ahead.”

She hesitated for a moment but realizing I wouldn’t let her drop a subject once she opened it, she went on with her thoughts.

“Okay, here it is,” she said. “You seem hung up over that Jorge guy, and don’t shoot me for saying this, but I don’t think he’s all that attractive.”

“Are you blind?”

“Will you let me finish?”

I held up my hands to surrender my remaining interruptions and kept silent, and with a sigh, she went on.

“You don’t exactly have a reputation for having the best taste in men, Lizzie.” She had a point there, but I let her continue, “Remember that bass player you dated for a week before you realized he was in some weird vampire cult?”

“I thought there was something off about his extra-sharp canines.”

“And what about that gay co-star you had the hots for?”

“So I don’t have gay-dar. What’s your point?”

“My point is, dear Lizzie, you don’t know what you want. And maybe the right guy will be right there in your face, and you won’t even realize it.”

“One, you sound like my mother, and two, I don’t need a man to make me happy when pizza will do the trick.”

She conceded, saying she couldn't argue with me about that as she liked pizza well enough to give up chocolate if given the choice between the two. We agreed enthusiastically and made a pact to use pizza as a code word if one of us were to make any more dating mistakes. I told her I no longer had any expectations as far as Jorge was concerned, and she seemed a little relieved at the news, saying she was prepared to go ninja if she suspected anything was going awry. We laughed a great deal over the course of the next few hours as customers trickled in for the turkey buffet we offered as the only option on the menu. As much as I resented working on Thanksgiving, I was grateful to Charlotte’s dad for making it easier for us. All we had to do was deliver drinks and check on the customers throughout their meal. Best of all, the tip was included with the bill. It was a good day, and Sir William Lucas had promised me a tray of yams, so I could have something to take to my parents’ house later in the day.

I was getting a head start on my side work, looking forward to an early departure if more customers didn’t decide to come in, when a half hour before closing, I was surprised to see Colin flutter into the dining hall. He was alone, and my first thought as he glided his way toward the bar was that he must have had no family in L.A. to celebrate with. My second thought came with more trepidation as I noticed him inquiring something of Charlotte and turning to look for me as she nodded her head in my direction. I hadn’t thought he knew where