by Tara Lain
“Perfect.” He stood, his pure physicality dominating the room. Flopsy and Mopsy even looked a little awestruck. Gray crossed to the entry and pulled his hoodie from the closet, then slipped it on.
Ru walked over and looked up at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Gray smiled that other smile. The one that lit his eyes. “Yeah.” He reached up a hand, and Ru almost shied away. Man, that would have been a mistake. Gray slid a lock of Ru’s long, floppy bangs through his fingers. “And yeah, you’re right. I don’t have much sex—with women.” He walked out the front door, and Ru slowly folded to the floor.
Chapter Eight
“Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.” Gray stalked to the edge of the apron and snorted in disgust.
“Okay, hold there. Let’s break for lunch before we commence with Ophelia’s entrance.” Gray kind of ducked as Artie walked down toward the stage from the audience. Artie grinned. “Shit, man, that was so much better. I mean, that was great.”
Gray let out his breath and shrugged. He’d barely slept all night, he’d worked so hard on the new understanding Ru had given him. Be cool. “Good. Glad it’s closer to what you want.”
“It was really good—and individual.” He slapped his arm. “Great job.”
Oh man, he wanted to tell Ru. Funny how just those ideas Ru had given him made the lines come alive. Young, angry, guilty. He bounded off the stage and up the aisle to grab his laptop case from the seats where he’d left it.
“Gray, hold up.” Benson came striding toward him. Damn.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing for lunch?”
“Uh, working with my drama coach.”
“Drama coach? I didn’t know about that. When did she come down to Laguna?”
“It’s not Maria, okay? I’m working locally, and it’s doing a lot of good.”
“Obviously. I saw a part of that scene. So who’s the miracle maker?”
Gray frowned. “Thanks for your fucking vote of confidence.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant you came a long way in a short time.”
“Yes, and I’m going to be late for my appointment.”
“Where’s Penelope?”
Gray grabbed his case and started walking up the aisle. “I sent her home. I told her I had too much to do.”
“You need her here.”
“Shit, I can’t cater to her and her mother and father and every effing relative. She’s got no clue how much this play means to me, and she doesn’t really care.”
Benson gripped his arm and stopped his forward motion. “That kid playing Horatio is a fag, and the whole world knows it. So are the costumer and probably a bunch of others in the cast. You gotta have the protection, Gray. You need the female before they start taking more photographs to prove you’re a homo.”
“I haven’t seen any drones since the day we got here. I’m careful.”
“You’ve got no idea where the paparazzi are hiding. You know that.”
He pulled his arm from Benson’s grasp. “Can’t I ever have five fucking minutes of a life? I don’t want her here.” He stared at Benson. “I don’t care what you think is best, is that clear?”
“Of course, Gray. You know I only want what’s best for you.”
“Of course.” Like shit.
“You may think I only care about my paycheck. But what I make is a percentage of what you make, so you need to care about it too.” He patted him like a kid. “Hell, I know it’s gotta be tough.”
“No, you don’t know. It’s not your bare ass they’re photographing.”
“Then cover that million dollar butt, baby. So who’s the drama coach? Somebody I know?”
Gray stared down at him. “Yeah. Ru Maitland, the costume designer.” He turned and left the theater with Benson’s voice ringing behind him.
“Gray Anson, you’re shitting me.”
Outside on the sidewalk, he ducked under a tree and looked up. It was only about four blocks to Shazam. Damn, no hoodie. He propelled forward at a fast walk, shoulders hunched. If he wanted a cap, he’d have to cut over to Forest Avenue. Too many people. Better take his chances.
He stopped at the light that separated Laguna Canyon Road from the shops of downtown Laguna Beach. Come on. Several people came up to the intersection. One woman glanced over, and he saw her whisper to her friend. The light changed and he took off at a trot across the street, then jaywalked—jayran?—to the opposite sidewalk, and from there kept trotting to Ocean Avenue. There he slowed. Better not run. Somebody running attracted more attention than a walker. Looking in shop windows, he kept turned partly away from the tourists and locals passing him.
After three blocks, he saw the beautiful building on the right. A buzzing sound floated over the trees, and his head snapped up. Nothing. Probably just a lawn mower. As he started up the walkway, the door opened and Ru came out. “Hi. I was thinking we could pick up some sandwiches before we plunge in.”
Gray smiled. As always, Ru looked outrageous. Today, he sported ultrageek chic. Tight black pants cut short to show off white socks and penny loafers. On top he wore a blue-, gold- and black-striped shirt plus suspenders, and topped the whole thing off with his black-rimmed glasses—which he didn’t always wear, so he must not need them badly—plus a sparkly earring. “Do those really have glass in them?” He grabbed the specs from Ru’s face, stuck a finger through the space where the lens ought to go, and laughed.
“No fair revealing my secret identity. Would you steal the glasses from Clark Kent?”
Gray held them in the air, and Ru leaped to get them. Gray switched hands and laughed as Ru danced like a puppy.
Buzzzzzz. Right above his head.
Shit! He ran into the front door of Shazam with Ru behind him. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Gray punched the back of a leather chair. “Drones. They follow me everywhere.”
“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. Do you think they got pictures of us?”
“Maybe. But they’ve got so much footage of me, they probably won’t use it.” Much. But no use worrying Ru.
“I really am sorry. When I saw you outside by yourself, I just figured everything was okay.”
“I know. Not your fault. I was anxious to see you is all.” Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.
“Thank you.” He smiled and turned those beautiful, full lips up.
“I already ordered pizza to be delivered here. Is that okay?”
“Heck yeah, sounds wonderful. So why were you anxious to see me?”
There was a complex question. “Because Artie just praised my delivery of the soliloquy. He called it great!”
Ru’s whole face lit up. “Oh my God, that’s fantastic! I knew you’d be great. I knew it.” Ru wrapped his arms around Gray in a huge hug.
Well, this is fun. Gray laughed. “Yes, you did, and I’ll never doubt you again.”
“Excuse me darlings, is this a private party, or can anyone play?”
Between Ru pushing away and him letting go, he practically dropped Ru on his butt but managed to get him balanced on his feet. They both faced the wild redhead standing in the doorway to the inner offices with his hands on his hips. This had to be the famous Shazam.
Ru shook himself. “I’m so sorry. I get a little overemotional sometimes.” He walked to the redheaded man and kissed him on the cheek. “Hi, dear. This, as I know I don’t have to tell you, is Gray Anson. I got très excited about some news he gave me. Gray, this is my best friend, Chase Phillips, aka Shaz.”
Shaz walked forward and extended a graceful hand. As Ru had told him, Shaz was so flamboyant he made Ru seem masculine. “Delighted to meet any friend of Ru’s.”
Gray smiled. How perfect. The fact that he was some bigass movie star made no difference
to Shaz. Only that he was a friend of Ru’s. He took Shaz’s soft hand. “I’m honored. Penelope’s told me so much about you.”
Shaz raised a sculpted eyebrow. “She’s a lovely girl.”
“According to her, that’s in no small part due to you.”
“A lovely girl with excellent taste.” He grinned, turning his pretty face impish. “So what good news produced such a spontaneous combustion?”
Ru glanced at Gray. “Just that Gray’s killing it in Hamlet.”
Shaz tapped his chin with a manicured finger. “Isn’t that the way Mr. Shakespeare wrote it? I seem to recall bodies all over the stage.”
Ru slapped a hand against Shaz’s arm. “I mean Gray is brilliant as Hamlet!”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Gray ducked his head. “What he’s not saying is that I stank royally—pun intended—until he started helping me. That’s why I’m here. To suck up more wisdom.”
“Oooh, how delightfully pornographic.”
Ru’s golden eyes widened. “Shaz, behave yourself!”
Shaz crossed his arms. “Never.” He looked at Gray with slightly narrowed eyes. “But I will say that my friend is one of the smartest people I know, so pay attention to him and you’ll come up a winner.”
“Good advice, thanks.” Gray nodded as he met Shaz’s unwavering gaze.
“Okay, you two, go play.” Shaz walked back to the door he’d come in, then glanced over his shoulder with a wicked gleam. “I won’t tell Penelope I saw you.” Exit.
Gray let out a slow breath. What the hell did he mean by that? “He’s a pistol.”
“And the best friend a guy ever had.”
Imagine having a friend like that.
The front door opened, and Chris walked in with a huge box holding a gourmet pizza smelling of garlic and cheese and all things yummy. “Here ya go, boss. I’m waiting outside. I don’t want you running around in the open, okay?”
“Yeah. Sadly, I already got buzzed once on my way here.”
“Shit. Vultures.” He walked back to the door in his bearlike gait. “No hurry. I found a spot at the curb. Got my own pizza.”
“See you in a bit.”
Ru took a deep breath in the direction of the pizza. “We can go back in the break room or my office. Probably less admirers in my office.” He grinned. “I said less, not none.”
Does he know what a flirt he is? “Will you show me your designs for Fashion Week?”
“Wow. Hell yes. I’d love for you to see them.”
Gray followed Ru through the right-hand door from the entry and down a broad hall with four rooms, two empty and one occupied by some madly working seamstresses.
Ru nodded toward the three women and smiled. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
Ru led him into a sunny, spacious office with a desk, a large drawing table, and shelves of fabrics and other stuff he couldn’t begin to identify. A mannequin held a beautiful high-waisted dress with an Elizabethan flair, but made of denim and leather. Gray fingered the unexpected fabric. “This is great.”
“Thanks. I’m using ideas from the Hamlet costumes to suggest designs for my collection.”
“This is really original.”
He gave a sweeping courtier’s bow. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Gray looked around. “Great office.”
Ru set the pizza down on a round glass table with three chairs and pulled out some paper plates and napkins he had stashed in a drawer. Gray sat in one of the chairs and Ru slipped in opposite him. They both grabbed slices of the Mediterranean pizza. “Oh man, this is like died-and-gone-to-heaven pizza.” Ru licked a pink tongue over greasy lips.
Gray shivered and tried to smile. “Yeah. I found it shortly after we came to Laguna. If somebody doesn’t keep me away, you’ll be letting out my costume.” He laughed and patted his belly—to hide other reactions.
“So we better get to work on the interior of your character, right?”
Gray nodded and chewed. Man, he loved talking to Ru. Makes me feel almost human.
“What scene do you want to work on?”
“How about that act 3, scene 2 with Horatio, when he’s telling him about the play and how they’re friends? Lots of complex language in that.”
“Sure. Maybe you want to get Merle to practice with you?”
He frowned before he could catch it. “No. I just want to work with you.”
Ru’s head came up fast, but he nodded. “That’s fine. Don’t you like Merle?”
“I like him fine.” The words flew out. “You seem to like him a lot.”
Ru’s beautiful eyes narrowed. “Is that a problem?”
“No, of course not. As I said, I like him fine.”
Ru stared at him hard. Damn, Anson, why can’t you keep your mouth shut? Finally Ru looked at the script. “Okay, here’s what I think this means.”
A cell phone rang, and Ru fished it from his pocket. His eyes widened, and then he frowned and bit the inside of his cheek. “Uh, excuse me. I need to take this.”
He walked into the hall, but Gray could still hear his voice. “Hi. Long time no talk.” Quiet. “What? Damn. Who have they talked to?” Another pause. “Yes, have you ever heard of someone named Fogarty?” His voice shook. Gray chewed pizza. Shouldn’t listen, but damn, Ru sounds upset. “Okay, I’m in the middle of something. Thank you so much for telling me, mi buen amigo. Adiós.”
Isn’t that Spanish? Gray buried his head in the script and munched pizza. Ru sat opposite him again, frowning, his eyes glassy.
“Everything okay?”
“What? Oh, yes. A friend I haven’t seen for a while. He called to say he saw some, uh, mutual friends, and they asked about me.” Ru’s fair skin looked even paler.
An hour later, they’d dissected the scene until it made sense, but Ru seemed edgy. Not his comfortable self.
“You sure everything’s fine?” He reached out and covered Ru’s hand with his. Warm, silky, slim.
Ru stared at Gray’s hand, frowned, swallowed audibly, and looked up. “Yes, I’m sure.” That tigereye gaze felt like a challenge. He didn’t move his hand. In fact, he didn’t seem to be breathing.
Gray cleared his throat. Chicken-livered shit. “I better get back to the Playhouse. I’m probably holding up the rehearsals.” He stood. “First dress tomorrow.”
Ru’s voice was cool. “Yes.”
“Yeah. That means you’ll be there, right?” God, he couldn’t keep from smiling.
“Yes. I have to do final tweaks to fitting and train the dressers.”
“So I’ll see you then.”
His eyes narrowed. “Where’s your fiancée? Will she be attending rehearsals this week?”
“I sent her home—and she’s not my fiancée, remember?”
The smile Ru flashed didn’t have his usual sweetness. “That’s your opinion. Rich, beautiful women have a way of defining what they want.” He rose in that elegant way and walked to the door like he was showing Gray out. “You’re doing great. Just keep going.”
“But you’ll work with me some more, right?” Did he sound desperate?
That tight smile again. “I think you’ve about outgrown your teacher. You don’t need me. You’ve got this.”
“Please.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it.”
“Okay.”
Ru walked down the hall ahead of Gray, not looking back. He held the front door. “Looks like Chris has your car right there in front.” He looked up. “Make a run for it.”
“See you.” He didn’t want to go. This parting felt more like an ending.
“You bet.” Ru smiled and didn’t quite meet Gray’s eyes.
“Thanks for helping me.” He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on that smooth cheek.
Ru’s face turned flaming pink, and his eyes widened in shock.
Good. That looks better. Gray grinned and trotted out the door.
Chapter Nine
Ru stared at the departing limo, cock aching so bad it should have dropped off and run down the street after Gray by itself. Fucking assholic, incredible, gorgeous, dumbass pendejo. Every time he got anywhere near Gray, he wound up with a stiff neck and a stiff cock from all the teasing. One minute he was pressing his leg against Ru’s, and the next he was getting fucking married, and then he was jealous of Merle, and then he was freaking out over drones. Shit!
“Darling, are you okay?”
“Why would I not be okay?” He closed his fists.
“Hmmm. Because you look like you might attack the first human within reach, which at the moment happens to be moi.”
He spun on Shaz. “He plays me like a fucking violin. The guy’s engaged—to a woman, for crap’s sake—but he flirts with me until I really believe he’s gay and going to sweep me up in his arms and carry me off like Billy did you, not that I want him to, since I’m not a cheater or a home wrecker, but—” Oh shit, where had all that water on his face come from? Ru wiped his hand across his cheek.
“Darling, can I approach?”
He nodded.
Shaz walked to him slowly and gathered him in his arms. “You flirt with him just as badly.”
“I do?”
“Yes. So in his defense, and I know he’s a terrible, unfair asshole who deserves no defense at all, but perhaps he thinks that’s what you want from him.”
“I—I dooooooo.” He buried his head in Shaz’s shoulder and cried.
Shaz chuckled. “Okay, so this is a play that’s barely begun.”
He sniffed. “First dress is to-tomorrow.”
Shaz held him out at arm’s length. “I don’t mean Hamlet, darling. You and Mr. Anson have more acts to perform—” He grinned. “—pun intended, and I’ll be watching from a front-row seat.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ru wiped at his nose. “Yes, you’ll watch him garner oceans of praise for being so brave as to try Shakespeare, and then go back to his girlfriend in Hollywood and get married and have boatloads of little assholes.”
“Perhaps. Could happen. But at the least, he’ll have called attention to one of the world’s great fashion designers, and you’ll be crying your eyes out on your way to the ATM.”