Chapter 2

* Daniel *

As soon as the imposing Mr. Williams had disappeared, Kelly was all over me.

"Dan, I've never seen you play coy before in my life! What's going on? Is it love at first sight?" I rolled my eyes.

So did Mark. He's pretty much OK with gay people—he does work in the theater, after all—but sometimes I think he doesn't like to be reminded we have sex lives.

Even though mine was pretty much theoretical. I hadn't been with anyone since the disaster that was Brian two years ago.

Kelly's the only person in my life who's allowed to give me shit like that, by the way. We've known each other since college, and we were roommates until she moved in with her boyfriend a year or so back.

She's still like a sister to me, and like most sisters, she can annoy the hell out of you even though you love her to death.

Fortunately, I think she was a little thrown off her game by Mr. Williams's stunning charisma, and too busy covering her own feelings to probe a little deeper.

I was trying to hold back the shivers running up and down my body. I could still feel those movie star blue eyes seeking out my face.

I said goodbye to Mark and Kelly and left the theater before Mr. Jenkins and Mr. Williams emerged from the production office.

I hadn't responded like that to a man in a long time. This could make things awkward working in the same intimate space for nine weeks.

I meant to be good, to get some housework done and make an early night of it. Instead, I found myself hunting through my DVD collection for a movie Jeff Williams had made some eight years ago.

I told myself I was just curious if he burned up the screen the way he did in real life. The answer, sadly, was no.

His acting was fine, even better than fine, but his image on film was just another good-looking face.

The body, on the other hand... I caught myself pausing the DVD on his totally gratuitous shirtless scene, wondering if his body was still as good now as it had been then, and realized I had just crossed into forbidden territory.

He was a co-worker now, and I had to think of him in those terms. I turned the TV off and went to bed.

It took me a long time to get to sleep.

—————

* Jeff *

"OK, enough about the play," Scott finally said. "I can see your eyes glazing over from here. Give me the scoop. What's been going on with you? How've you been? I've been trying to get you into one of my plays for years, why'd you finally say yes to this one?"

I sipped at my coffee, smiling. Scott could circle a question for hours, but he never missed his mark when he finally landed.

"What's up with me? Nothing besides being a doting uncle to my niece and nephew, a loving son to my mother, God bless her wicked heart, and a fine upstanding member of my profession and community."

"That's a fine-sounding list, but I think noticed one glaring omission."

I braced myself. Here it came.

"I didn't hear any mention of a partner, spouse, lover, boyfriend... heck, even a fuck buddy."

I winced. "Could you keep it down?"

Scott laughed. "Jeff, it's an open secret in the acting world that you're gay. I don't care what sort of equipment they've got. I just want to know if you've got someone in your life."

I was still bristling. "Maybe it's an open secret in the acting world, but around this town I'm still Judy Andrews' boy, and I don't want her learning about my sexuality through neighborhood gossip. Besides, my orientation's been kind of a moot point for a few years, anyway."

It was Scott's turn to wince. "I wish you'd let that go. If I know your mother, she's already got his-and-his towels and a nice assortment of lubes picked out and set aside for the day you finally man up and tell her you're bringing your boy toy home to visit."

My mind recoiled from that image, but I was used to hearing outrageous statements from Scott. "Well, there's no boy toy for me to bring around, so she'll just have to hang on to that stuff a while longer."

What I wasn't used to hearing from Scott was the concern in his voice. "Timmy really did a number on you, didn't he?"

I couldn't answer. Timothy didn't deserve that accusation, at least not completely, but Scott would never believe me if I tried to defend him.

"Jeff, it's been six years. Has there really been no one since him?"

"It's not a big deal, Scott. I've just got other priorities."

"Uh-huh. My best friend goes and becomes a monk on me and tells me it's not a big deal. At least tell me you've got a prospect in mind, man!"

Even as I smiled and shook my head, a fleeting vision of chestnut hair passed before my eyes. Where had that come from?

"Well, before I leave town, my mission, apart from making half this town's population fall in love with you on the stage, is getting you laid."

We'd passed back from treacherous emotional waters back to joking camaraderie. I relaxed in my chair with relief.

"Well, from your lips to... someone's ears. Meantime, you wanted to know about the play. It's pretty simple, really: I haven't trodden the boards in a while, I was looking for something that didn't take me away from home this close to the holidays, and I got lucky with the perfect combination of a director I believe in and a role I love."

Scott smirked back at me, lifting his cardboard coffee cup. "Here's to getting lucky, then."

I'd left myself wide open for that one.

* * * * * *

When all the cast gathered for the first read-through, I realized I had lucked out in more than just a part and a director. This group clicked right away.

We were all pros, and enthusiastic about our material. Angela Freeman, who would be playing my love interest, was a knockout, but she kept it real.

That would make the romantic scenes a whole lot easier to rehearse. Christina Fernandez, in the comic supporting role, gave a convincing enough impersonation of a ditz both in real life and in the play, but she didn't fool me.

You don't get killer timing like hers with air for brains. Joseph Hamilton and Heather Burke, the remaining cast members, were all solid and easy to work with, though I shared fewer scenes with them. Yes, I was looking forward to the next eight weeks.

At the break, I noticed Daniel hovering by the coffee cart. I greeted him as I strolled up. "Daniel, isn't it?" Why am I pretending that I don't remember his name? He looked up at me for the first time, and responded with a tentative smile, "That's right, Mr. Williams. Can I fix you some coffee?"

"No need, I can help myself, thanks. And please, call me Jeff."

He smiled, but didn't respond. I groped for something else to say, to draw him out. One of the curses of being an actor in social situations is I either know my lines too well to say them sincerely, or I can't think of a damn word.

Improvisation was never my strong suit. I needed some cues, and Daniel wasn't giving me any. At least he was still looking at me, through ridiculously long lashes. I took another look at his eyes, and like an idiot, immediately blurted out, "Hazel."

.

He cocked his head at me. "Excuse me?"

"Your eyes. They're hazel. I was wondering. They're really nice. Do you always keep them hidden behind that hair of yours?" I watched him retreat behind said hair again. Oh, that sounded like a come-on. Jeff, get a grip!

"My eyes are brown," was all he said. I didn't think so. Timothy's eyes had been—were—brown, and I was pretty sure Daniel's were nothing like his.

Thinking about Timothy was a mistake. It brought up too much old baggage. This conversation wasn't going any direction I wanted. I was either going to start an argument with Daniel or push him further into his shell if I contradicted him.

I settled for saying, "Well, whatever you want to call them, they're very attractive. You should share them with the rest of us more often." Ouch. Great, now you're lecturing him! Just shut up and act professional, Jeff.

Just then Angela called to me and mercifully drew my attention away from Daniel. I said, "Excuse me," and started walking toward her. A few steps away, I couldn't resist it. I looked back. He was watching me sidelong with a half-smile on his face. Well, at least he didn't look pissed off.

The initial read-throughs were fun, but it soon turned out that the major challenge of this production was going to be the blocking.

Scott had always liked to keep things moving as a director, but he had outdone himself on this one. Walk here, sit there, stand back up, pick up that prop, exchange it for another one, all without tripping over your fellow cast members or flubbing your lines.

It was almost as bad as the crazy play within a play in Noises Off. Joseph in particular was having a rough time of it. He was the least physically coordinated of us all, and it took him forever to get a scene into his head so that it would stick. His line delivery suffered badly in the meanwhile, making it difficult for the rest of us to play off him.

The stage and props managers must have been going crazy, too, mostly from having to reset everything when Scott had us start a scene over from the beginning, but if they grumbled, it was never in front of us.

I was beginning to learn some real respect for both Mark and Daniel. They were always there, always organized, and infinitely patient with us clumsy hams and our whimsical director.

I had managed to coax a few more fleeting smiles out of Daniel, but though he was always unfailingly pleasant, courteous, and professional, he remained a little wary around me.

I was beginning to think of it as a challenge, to try to break down that reserve and find out what was really going on inside that head of his.

I suspected there was a lot more there than met the eye. At least I hoped so. Something about those smiles made me want to see more of them.