Read My Jane Austen Summer for Free Online Page B

but a dreadful romance. Think of the films." Omar leaned toward me again. "Shaw's my field of study."
    I nodded.
    Omar invited me to join him at a table in the back where the noise level and general animation increased. Unfortunately, no one in the large group wore a name tag. Omar raised his voice to seize the group's attention. "I would like to introduce a fellow actress"--he put his hand on my arm and read my name tag--"Lily Berry."
    They all looked at me expecting something, so--I waved. Then a man with a beautiful smile stepped forward and extended his hand.
    "Damn glad to meet you," he said. "Name's Hamlet." Hair randomly bleached, buttons on his plaid shirt misaligned, his smile so contagious I wanted to laugh at whatever he was saying whether I could hear it over the din or not. Hamlet's eyes locked with mine even as his arm rose in a professional flourish, indicating the man on his right, "Allow me to present Veal Cutlet." Hamlet's other arm extended like a conductor calling on the brass, toward the couple at the end of the table. "Country Ribs, there." A tall, lanky man nodded at me gravely. "And his little Pork Chop." The woman turned to her partner, selected a finger, and began gnawing.
    I enjoyed the joke and his lovely British accent until Hamlet's mischievous eyes met mine, expecting me to reciprocate in kind. "And you are?" he said, and I knew I was supposed to be some sort of meat. No time to unwind the jet-lag gauze straitjacketing my brain, I smiled. "I'm still Lily Berry," I said, adding, like a beauty contestant with a Southern drawl, "From the great state of Texas," applying specific gusto to the word great . I couldn't read the expression on Hamlet's face. Fearing he might expose me for afraud, the suspense was unbearable. I looked to Omar for a cue but he had started a conversation with someone else. Hamlet raised his arm again and I flinched like a needy dog expecting to be hit. To my utter astonishment he opened his mouth and began singing to me. Conversations halted and heads turned as his rich baritone filled the pub; even the people in the front looked to see what was happening.
    " Oh I wish I wa-as in the land of cotton ," he sang, pausing to savor the full effect of the longing he expressed. Some began singing harmony. " Old times there are not forgotten ." He took my hands in his as if this were a love song. " Look away, look away, look away Dixie land ." He immediately segued into "The Yellow Rose of Texas," but mixed it up with "Yankee Doodle." Omar winked, as if Hamlet serenading me were normal behavior. The bartenders looked mildly pleased, as if this sort of thing happened when you associated with actors. But I felt myself on fire because, as an actress, I would be expected to improvise something original, soon.
    " The Yellow Rose of Texas is the only gal for me ," Hamlet continued, swinging me around in a little colonial do-si-do. Others joined the act, humming the accompaniment. Country Ribs and his little Pork Chop performed backup vocals; another actor played his air guitar, closing his eyes for the more challenging riffs. Veal Cutlet on percussion used spoons to beat the table as one of his mates played the air trombone. Others provided vocal accompaniment and stomping feet; the whole front of the room improvised to Hamlet's crazy medley while I scrambled for an idea. Unless I thought of something quick, it would be very obvious who was not an actress in the room.
    Hamlet went down on one knee and seated me on the other. I managed to smile and raise my arms in a little shimmy, my butt bones digging into his thigh, ideas racing. Although I never played a lead, I memorized all the solos and sang them tomy bathroom mirror. I stood and launched into "People Will Say We're in Love," as if I'd come straight from Broadway, the breath released from my diaphragm, flowing over my vocal cords exactly the way my voice teacher had taught me years ago. I felt like a pro and Hamlet crooned his part,