Theater of the Absurd

By Katherine Gilbert

Can a TV star best man with a frou-frou dog convince an overwhelmed, actor-hating wedding planner to work together to save their best friends’ special day and maybe plan one of their own?

TV star Andrew Cathcart has long been misunderstood. Lusted over by women, hated by their boyfriends and husbands, he’s used to unkind stories being told about him. But when he arrives at his best friend’s wedding to discover that the woman of his dreams immediately dismisses him, what will he have to do to change her mind?

Wedding planner Portia Walker hates actors, and she has her reasons. Right now, the main one is that her flash-in-the-pan TV star boss, Matt, has not only bailed on this wedding. He’s run off with all their company’s cash and left some epically-disastrous nuptials in his wake. The last thing she has time for is the hot actor whose show she refuses to admit she watches faithfully--or his fluffy, pampered pooch.

Still, when the dueling caterers for this multicultural wedding threaten to throw more than Spanish and Hindi insults, none of the dresses are the right color or size, half the groom’s family is involved in screaming arguments about an unexpected pregnancy, the bride’s ex-students are trying to sabotage the event in hopes of winning her belated affections, and the cake has the wrong names on it, Andrew and Portia may have to be the ones to find a way to make all of this work. And that says nothing of the arrival of the FBI and the fact that Matt keeps threatening to harm the people they love if he isn’t given back something he left behind. Can Andrew and Portia protect themselves and each other, as he takes this chance to win her love?

Filled with heart, heat, and humor, this steamy, interracial, actor romantic comedy with a side of romantic suspense invites you back to The Mountainside Theater, where love is always the feature presentation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katherine Gilbert
• Release date: Oct 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005328153

Katherine Gilbert

Katherine Gilbert was born at house number 1313 and then transplanted to a crumbling antebellum ruin so gothic that The Munsters would have run from it. She has since gained several ridiculously-impractical degrees in English and Religious and Women's Studies. She now teaches at a South Carolina community college, where all her students think, correctly, that she is very, very strange, indeed. You can sign up for her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/dCcccL or her Reader Group at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1169120069919462/While Katherine Gilbert is the author of several sweet paranormal romance/urban fantasy novels, when the werewolves, witches, angels, and their friends are on vacation, she transforms into her alter-ego, Kat Samuels, writer of steamy contemporary and historical romance. If you’d like to learn more about Kat Samuels’ upcoming steamy historical and contemporary novels and get more inside-the-world stories, join her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gB2bmL

Book preview

Also by Kat Samuels

Love at the Mountainside Theater Series:

Theater of Engagement (a steamy, multicultural, fake engagement rom-com)

Theater of the Absurd (a steamy, interracial rom-com with a twist of romantic suspense)

Other, Stand-Alone Novels:

Seasons (a steamy, second chance, seasoned romance)

Ghosts of the Past (a steamy, new adult romantic suspense novel with a touch of the paranormal)

Garden of Delights (a steamy, multicultural, college rom-com)

Beyond the Next Breath (a steamy, interracial, reverse age-gap romantic suspense tale)

Dedication

To my sister Armida, who I’m extremely lucky to still have with me. Thank you, as always, for listening and laughing (and coming up with the title).

Author’s Note

As this is the story of Portia and Andrew’s romance, it is told in both of their perspectives. Please be prepared for chapters to sometimes switch back and forth between viewpoints, so you receive a fuller vision of their love story.

Chapter 1

Happy Day Wedding Planning Promise #1: Your big day is a happy day. There will be no stress for the bride and groom.

Andrew Cathcart had developed a simple philosophy of life: Do jobs that pay well; avoid being pressured into anything that doesn’t feel right, and spend your time with good, kind, funny people as much as humanly possible.

Thankfully, his current destination was at least going to fulfill the latter of these.

And, as my mother’s favorite song goes, two out of three ain’t bad.

Having inadvertently charmed the star-struck girl at the car rental counter in the Asheville, North Carolina airport and made the drive down the lovely parkway through the Blue Ridge mountains, Andrew was finally at his destination and ready for the weekend which would finally see the wedding of his best friend.

As he made his way out of some sort of monstrosity of a sports car, though, he sighed. It was the sort of thing his agent would have been shouting approving curse words over, which didn’t endear him to it any further. Eddie the Schmoozer—as Andrew always thought of him—was nothing if not image conscious.

Of course, Eddie wouldn’t have approved of the fact that Andrew had traveled on a scheduled commercial flight rather than a charter or private plane, even if it had been in first class, or that he’d sauntered up to a rental counter like an actual person. Half of Hollywood seemed to think he did such things because he enjoyed being mobbed in airports, and none of them seemed to understand how he managed to avoid such hysterical scenes but found it an amusing comeuppance when they didn’t happen, since he was clearly an attention hog. Still, since Andrew had never begun acting in hopes of having people understand him, such attitudes made him merely sigh and move on.

That he chose the basic domestic flight route mostly to avoid his agent’s endless phone calls—only turning on the charm long enough to convince the airline that the extra seat he’d bought for his dog and her kennel was an acceptable star quirk—was a secret he kept to himself. That he managed to keep his privacy was also down to the fact that, if he wasn’t on, he was very good at going where he wanted unnoticed by anyone except a few interested women or men.

Of course, if he was on, he could get the attention of every single person on the red carpet.

But that’s a trick pretty much every successful actor has to learn at some point.

Getting out of the small, red monument to fears of sexual inadequacy, Andrew knew he probably wasn’t keeping up appearances, otherwise, and was happy for it.

In one hand was his cell phone, and nestled in the other arm, a small, gray, well-loved but unstyled teacup poodle named Tiddlywinks. While he knew it would be easier to hear his oldest friend’s comforting rants with just an earpiece, rather than carrying around the whole phone, Andrew associated them with men like his agent.

And, no matter what anyone thinks, the Hollywood douchebag look just isn’t me.

As Andrew stretched his legs to recover from the ridiculous rental car, he was almost sorry he was here so soon. He’d already made several stops to stare at the endless tree-covered mountains on the way and would have liked more time to enjoy the scenery.

Looking around for a likely patch for poor Wink to meet the call of nature, for a second he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the car’s shiny surface and saw a tall man with blond hair and blue eyes, standing there in an immaculate suit. As always, he heard the nasty voice in the back of his head lecturing him about how everything about him was and always would be a lie.

Pushing the old ghost of a memory wilfully away, Andrew heard Caleb continue his apoplectic monologue in his ear.

Really, Andrew, you landed hours ago. When are you going to get here?

Letting Cal’s comfortingly-normal freak-out wash over him like warm water, Andrew spotted a grassy area to the side of the big dirt-and-gravel parking lot and walked toward it, after closing and locking the car door.

The two caterers have started a feud, Cal whinged, as Drew half-listened and half-continued on with his thoughts. It was a technique he’d perfected many, many years ago.

Granted, they were on the side of a mountain in the middle of nowhere, but it didn’t pay to be incautious by leaving the car wide open. Apparently, there were some people who’d actually want the red I don’t have a micropenis—really! automobile, and his suit for the wedding was inside, too. There was no way he was going to upset Cal and Val’s special day by getting it stolen and adding one more thing to the list of problems Cal was groaning over.

Putting Wink down in the grass to let her do her business, he turned and stared over the giant Mountainside Theater—which encompassed not only a large theater but rehearsal spaces, dorms, kitchens, and dining areas, among many other surprises—as Caleb kept him updated on what was happening inside.

Some of Valeria’s old college gymnast friends are trying to convince her to go into Asheville for a booze-soaked, male-stripper extravaganza of a  . . .

His narrative stopped for only a second.

. . . whatever the female version of a stag night is.

I think it’s a bachelorette party, Andrew filled in.

Having known Valeria for over a year now, though, he had no doubt what her reaction to this would be.

How many logical arguments has she come up with to prevent it so far?

The bride-to-be had been running a large summer stock/teaching theater for several years, mostly on her own. Talking young people down from bad decisions was her normal Tuesday, although she approached it more reasonably than many would.

I think we’re currently at 53, Caleb confirmed, before continuing with his rant. And the wedding planner you hired isn’t even here yet. He just sent his second-in-command, and she looks like she’s about to have a screaming fit.

Staring at the impressive, hand-hewn wooden theater, offices, and dorms of the Mountainside, which went on for quite a way, Andrew smiled, a bit distracted.

He had grown to love this place in the days since his first visit. It was imbued with the tender, guiding spirit of Cal’s fiancée—homey, loving, and inviting. Made of native wood and mostly hand-carved, the theater went back two generations in Valeria’s family, to her ‘50s Hollywood star, white grandmother. But Val had made it her own. Even if she wasn’t here all the time nowadays, her new film career definitely a success, her touch was everywhere. Somehow, he imagined that, even if everything within was currently chaos, with her there, it would all be fine in the end.

You know how this goes, Cal, Andrew soothed, then backpedaled, as he heard Cal’s coming objections. A wedding is like a performance. Everything before it is uncertainty and disorder and noise, people worried about their clothes and their lines and whether everything looks right. Once it gets to the day itself, everything will work itself out.

For a moment, Andrew heard his own voice and the fake mid-Atlantic accent he had mastered long ago. It hid his true origins in one of the very poor sections of London and helped him fulfill his acting roles by sounding the way Americans, incorrectly, thought British people sounded. Of course, Cal had mastered it, too, covering up his own Anglo-Indian origins, unless he needed them for a role. For both of them, it was so second nature now that they would have had to try hard to bring back their original tones.

Clearly unconvinced by Andrew’s arguments, Cal let out a strangled noise.

"Where are you, Drew? We could use someone who actually knows all the details. As far as I can tell, the wedding planner’s disappeared and dumped everything on his aide, and she’s very nice but barely keeping up."

There was a crashing sound through the phone and then loud cursing in Hindi. While Andrew didn’t know what all the words meant, he’d been around Cal’s sister, Binita, enough to recognize a good blue streak when one was on offer. Although Binita apparently meant something like obedient, she was definitely not well-named.

This first scream was followed by another crash and a string of rushed Spanish insults, which he could follow, and someone else yelling at everyone in a thick, redneck accent—which was far more confusing than the Hindi.

Drew took a guess.

Caterer problems?

Between Caleb’s Indian and British background and Valeria’s Venezuelan/Puerto Rican meets Who knows? Europe somewhere? generic white background, further deep-fried by being raised in North Carolina, there were a whole lot of different strands coming together in these nuptials.

Groaning, Cal’s voice had become a whine Andrew was surprised he couldn’t hear outside the building.

"Where are you, Andrew?"

Despite the situation, he smiled. Had his oldest friend not occasionally needed someone to come put the details of his life in order, Andrew would have had to create the position. As well as Cal knew him, his oldest friend probably had no idea how much Andrew needed to be needed.

I’m out in the parking lot, actually. Wink . . .

He didn’t get any further before the huge, carved double doors of the lobby to the theater swung open and there was Cal, staring at him desperately.

Smiling, Andrew thought the man was looking even more handsome lately. Always tall and well-built with come-hither Indian features which could entrance both sexes, Caleb Adarsh Joshi had a serious fan following in both England and American. Right now, however, he seemed unusually frazzled, still talking into the phone rather than yelling across the lot.

You devious little bastard! How long have you been out here?

Laughing lightly at Cal’s way of saying hello, he looked down to see Wink staring up at him, ready for her ride. While he would have liked to let her run around on her own, she was quite a small dog. Even the deep gravel in the parking lot would have given her trouble. Although many people saw her as small and yappy, he knew that, whenever she was on the ground, she was actually saying, Hey, I’m down here! Don’t step on me!

If there’s anything I comprehend in this world, it’s the decorative and misunderstood.

Leaning down to pick up Wink, who was full-grown but still tiny, he heard Cal sigh, as he came close enough to finally hang up the phone. Andrew did, as well, tucking it into the pocket of his suit.

Caleb’s eyebrow was raised.

I see you brought the dust mop.

Wink turned to Drew with eyes which clearly said, No one gets me but you.

Even as he looked to his old friend, Andrew couldn’t disagree. His friendship with the poodle confused everyone.

What’s a wedding without a mascot? Besides . . .

He shrugged.

Mal is at her mother’s and can’t keep an eye on her.

As always, Cal’s look was expressive.

Which one of your entourage is Mal?

Smiling, Andrew knew Cal actually got the reasons for his typical companions better than he usually let on.

Mallory. UCLA junior. Triple majoring in math, history, and business, and . . .

Cal held up his hand.

I don’t need her entire backstory.

Looking into him, Caleb shook his head.

"You do realize that having a constant flock of women surrounding you is why you never get within a mile of a real relationship, right?"

Wondering whether this were merely an old observation or some sage engaged man’s attempt to get his friend attached, Andrew shrugged. He suspected Cal knew there was method to this particular madness, even if it did mean he was chronically unattached.

As usual, Cal let it go, but did press on.

It’s a madhouse, Andrew. We could use your smoothness to calm the waters.

Knowing this was a nice way of saying, You could schmooze