The Austen Playbook by Lucy Parker

The Austen Playbook by Lucy Parker

Author:Lucy Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-01T12:53:35+00:00


Chapter Twelve

Tuesday—Three days until showtime

Biting back a stream of four-letter words that wouldn’t advance his cause, Griff said a curt goodbye to the pompous prick at the broadcasting corporation and hung up. Tossing the phone aside, he rested his hip against the desk, his attention snagging on the scene outside the library window. It was Tuesday morning, the second day of tech week in the short rehearsal schedule for The Austen Playbook, and the core cast were emerging from breakfast and heading in the direction of The Henry. He didn’t see Freddy. He’d hardly seen her at all since Friday, and the current distance between them seemed to have settled over him like a layer of ice.

It was unbelievable that of the multiple things that had hit the fan over the past few days, it was having Freddy push him away after they’d grown close so quickly that was causing the most disruption. Or he’d pushed her away. He didn’t even know anymore. The scene in her bedroom seemed to have faded into a blur, from the adrenaline spike of coming in to find her dangling off that rickety balcony to the moment he’d been given his marching orders while she stood there looking utterly miserable. He’d had no intention of losing his cool when he’d gone looking for her, but he’d been pushed to the edge by the red light from the studio coming right after the confrontation with his parents. Who were still happily carrying on with their plans, with the impulse control of a couple of middle-aged toddlers, and just as much awareness of consequences. Walking in on yet another reckless action by someone he cared about, and was coming to feel incredibly protective of, had tipped the balance.

He picked up a handful of the invoices stacked on the desk. One bill after another was coming in for the miniature world that had sprung up on the lawn, the artistically beautiful, gold-plated road to bankruptcy out there. He’d worked out the budget to keep the estate running for the next couple of years: mortgage payments, staff wages, utilities, rates, repairs, the never-ending list that didn’t include whatever scheme his parents would come up with next. It added up to a total so beyond their means right now it was almost laughable.

If Rupert Carlton got his way and Griff’s film was shelved indefinitely, it would mean the waste of months of work, and it would put the situation with Highbrook at crisis point.

Selling up was the sensible thing to do. It was bloody ridiculous to attach so much sentimentality to crumbling brick and mortar that they drove themselves into financial ruin. But evidently, there were two subjects in life that he was incapable of approaching with a cool head. Highbrook. And the woman who’d teased, flirted, annoyed the fuck out of him, and could stop his breath in his chest when he saw her.

Some force in the universe was smirking down at him, because he’d reviewed dozens of



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