Austentatious Read Online Free Page A

seem like a good thing.
    Despite the nip in the air and because of the knot of nerves in my stomach, I stuck it out for another couple of hours, and through it all, there was Leslie, blithely mingling with her Shiner Bock and her outside voice. Solid alibi ... should any further suspicions arise.
    Now, with everyone either going or gone, I was just trying to work up the gumption to face my journal with the headache drumming behind my eyes. I’d almost rather karaoke ... Almost. My buzz had definitely faded, and a certain magical journal was once again a blight on my well-ordered life.
    As I was prepping myself for the papasan extrication process, Leslie sauntered into my field of vision with a stack of leftover containers. She hovered a moment over the remaining cupcakes on the table before selecting one and peeling back the wrapper. Excellent. Leslie was infinitely more predictable with her mouth full.
    I watched, slightly envious, as her eyes closed on that first decadent minty bite. “Mmmph. It was a good crowd tonight. Did you see Ginger up there, braving it out?”
    “The redhead? I did.” I knew exactly where this was going and figured I’d rather duke it out with the journal, much as I’d been dreading it. I stood awkwardly and haphazardly folded the blanket that had, at least for a little while, been a refuge.
    “You can’t be a karaoke voyeur forever, Nic.”
    I heard myself snort, but I refused to take the bait.
    “Come on, Nic. Just try it once,” Laura urged softly from her crouch beside the karaoke machine.
    Before I could respond, Leslie was turning toward me, one hand propped on her jean-clad hip. “It isn’t about the singing at all, is it, Nic? I think you can’t put yourself out there just for the hell of it and take a chance, go crazy, and have a little fun. Karaoke is not, after all, in ‘The Plan.’ ” She made the air quotes look more like a dance move from “Thriller.” “Or maybe you really do suck—I guess we’ll never know.”
    Feeling that this was all a little uncalled for, I simply stared before finally bumbling out with, “You’re a real ... peach, Leslie.” In my head it came out as “bitch” and felt so right.
    “And you’re the pit, my dear.”
    And here we go... . Rubbing my arms against the pervasive chill, some of which I knew was mental, I headed for the buffet table to retrieve my stoneware platter on my way back home.
    “Ease up, Les,” Laura warned.
    “I’m just trying to make a point here,” Leslie backpedaled. Her voice softened slightly, and a little of the tension eased out of my shoulders. “You’re the pit to my peach because while I’m out there on display—for better or worse—you’re hiding from everyone, following a preprepared, preemptive, preposterous plan that doesn’t make room for anything. I’m getting the nicks, the cuts, and the bruises, but I’m also getting the nibbles.”
    Don’t think about it. Don’t picture it.
    “Nobody’s making a cobbler out of you, honey,” she tossed off before popping the last of the cupcake into her mouth.
    “And the bad news is ... ?”
    “Honestly? You’re starting to remind me of Tattoo from Fantasy Island, but with you it’s ‘De Plan, de Plan! ’ Let me just say, it’s not a good look for you.”
    I couldn’t help it—she had me smiling a little now.
    “I say screw ‘De Plan,’ and have a little fun. Chances are everywhere, Nic. Reach out, grab one by the horns, and ride that baby. Sure, you might be thrown, things could get ugly, but you’ll get up with a flush in your cheeks, a smile on your lips, and the courage and confidence to try the next big thing.”
    “Cowgirl up.”
    I glanced at Laura and shot her my best “not helping” look.
    Leslie stepped closer to me, and there was no escape.
    “What about Elizabeth Bennet, hmm?”
    Now she had my attention, in a what the hell? kinda way. “What about her?” I said warily, a little weirded out at the P&P mention, given