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

“No. Not that.” He shook his head. “Why do you work here? Aren't you on equity contract?”

“You want to know why I still wait tables when it would seem I’ve made a career in theatre.”

“Exactly.”

I shrugged. “What happens when the show closes? What happens when I don’t book another gig for months? There’s no guarantee.”

“Okay.” He took another sip of his wine. “I have another ‘why’ question.”

“Why am I drinking on the job?”

“Actually, I was going to ask why you wouldn't be talking to me if I were a straight man, but the drinking question is interesting, too.”

I let out a long sigh, somewhat warmed by the tannins in the wine. Fitz didn’t really want to be bored with my feelings towards men. The fact was, I had trust issues. I supposed part of it stemmed from my recent disappointment in Bing. I seriously didn’t think there were any good men these days. Except the gay ones. Why were all the good ones gay? It didn’t seem fair.

Then there was Brett. I thought he was the one. But when Hollywood called, he turned into someone I didn’t recognize. Breaking up with me would have been a blessing. But he humiliated me at an important screen test. If I’d gotten that job, it would have changed my life. Actually, it did change my life because the next day, the video went viral on Brett’s YouTube channel. He’d used my humiliation for personal gain. I vowed never to trust another guy ever again. Especially Hollywood types.

“You know, Fitz,” I said after some thought, “I just don’t believe in happily ever after. Men and women can’t be friends, and I’d rather not waste my time.”

He gave me a small nod and was silent for a long time after that, watching me sip my wine and pouring more for us to enjoy together. I was probably drinking faster than I should have, especially considering I was devouring Will’s portion. We had gone through three quarters of the bottle when Fitz said thoughtfully, “You’re right. There are no guarantees.”

Interesting. Most people didn’t agree with me on anything, but I just rolled with it.

“The entertainment business is fickle,” he continued. “You might not get another gig for a while, that’s true, but you also might get carpal tunnel or something and lose your ability to wait tables.”

“Okay, you have a point there.”

“And call me a Disney princess, but I believe in happily ever after. How will you know if you don’t take a chance? Audition for more shows, put yourself out there. Go on dates. The only guarantee is failure if you don’t try.”

This was the first time I’d seen this side of Fitz. He was all business at rehearsals, surprisingly fun at parties, but here he was getting all deep on me. Maybe it was the wine, but my eyes welled up with moisture. I wanted to return his sentiment, say something profound that would match his wise words, but his features shifted like he had turned off some switch, and he laughed. “And then the bartender says, ‘I’m sorry, we don’t serve breakfast here.’”

“What?”

“Just laugh.” His eyes flickered behind me and sure enough, Will was approaching the table. By the time he reached us, Fitz and I were laughing our heads off. I had no idea why, but who cared?

“You are too much!” I portioned the last of the wine between us, and we offered an air toast to one another.

“I’ll be here all week,” he quipped. “Tip your waitress.”

“I’ll do that,” I said. “Twenty percent.”

Will loomed over the table, looking between the empty wine bottle to the two untouched Bud Lites, to Fitz, and then he let his eyes land on me sitting in his seat.

“I have to get going,” he said with a frown. He turned his attention to Fitz in a silent command to join him.

“Well, Beth,” Fitz said, rising from the booth. “It’s been fun, but my Uber is leaving.”

“But your food should be coming out soon,” I protested. “At least wait a few minutes so we can pack it to go.”

But Will was already out the door, so Fitz shrugged and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Sorry, love. Let me know how it tastes.”

As he retreated from view, all I could think of was how selfish Will’s behavior was to expect his friends to give in to his demands. Even Fitz, who I admired, was ordered around like a pageboy. What was so important to drive Will out of the lodge so quickly? He hadn’t even tried the chili fries.

19

Some Disenchanted Evening

Beth

Jane was home for Christmas. It was all the present I needed, although the whole cheesecake she brought from Junior’s was pretty awesome, too.

After the obligatory celebrations with my family in which my father made a fabulous prime rib, the Lucases came over for a cringeworthy gift exchange where my mother drank too much, Charlotte accompanied me back to the apartment where Lydia and Jane had games planned for the whole night.

I’d never had so much fun playing poker and the arrival of Jorge, Denny, Cole, and Holly made it even better. My little apartment could hardly fit all those people, but that made it all the more hilarious and memorable for our insane game of Guestures. You’d think a bunch of performers would be good at a game where you have to pantomime everything, but most of us were spectacularly horrible at it. Lydia beat us all by a landslide, only because she had no inhibitions to make a complete fool of herself.

We didn’t make a big deal over exchanging gifts, but Jorge took me aside and gave me a vintage book he picked up in a boutique bookstore. It was a first edition of The Hobbit, signed by J.R.R. Tolkien. It was one of the most thoughtful gifts I had received in my life. Made me feel a little rotten about the lame sweater I bought him. He hardly