Prince of the Playhouse (28 page)

“You made him suck you off as a qualification?” Wanted to hit him more.

“No, esé. I was a chickenshit bastard who wouldn’t admit he was at minimum bisexual. In defense, man, you gay, you dead in the ADs. Ru liked me and liked doing it. Maybe not as much as I did, but a lot.” He looked at Gray. “Have you seen his tat?”

Gray nodded.

“It matches the one on my back. Man, he loved my tat. Anyway, I saw what a good kid he was and how he’d end up dead in the ADs no matter how tough he thought he was. I used some of the money I had stashed to send him to fashion school. Man, he never looked back. Been doing great ever since.”

“You look like you’re doing well too.”

“I’m a businessman. I make sure the barrio gets decent food stores.”

Hell, what a hero.
“You got out of the gang.”

“I’m very, very smart. Sort of like Roberto, I mean Rupert, you know?”

“So what the hell will you tell the police?”

“I got a good story. Witnesses, everything.”

“Thank God.”

“But I want to know that you’re going to take care of Ru.”

“Me? Jesus, Bernardo, he won’t even be around me. He doesn’t want my help.”

“Maybe that’s true. Maybe not. But I came to tell you, man, you don’t take care of him, I will.”

“What does that mean?”

He stood. “I stayed away from him for eight years because I thought it was better if his old life didn’t mess up his new one. But now I see how you can’t run away from who you are. I got my shit together during those years. I can make sure nobody messes with my man.”

“You’re in love with Ru?” His heart beat in his throat.

“In my way.” He stalked to the door. “Now I’m gonna go get him out of trouble.”

GRAY SANK
onto the messy bed. So there it was—the man who had changed Ru’s life, given him a chance to be who he was. Bernardo defined handsome, smart, and heroic, and he wanted Ru back. Bernardo could give Ru what he needed—an honest partner who was proud to have Ru as a boyfriend.

He stood up slowly and dragged himself to the bedroom door. With a deep breath, he walked into the sitting room.

Everyone looked up—and that was a lot of people. Benson, Courtney, his dad. And there, huddled in the corner having a good girl talk, sat his mother and Penelope.
What the bloody living hell?

Benson stood. “Gray, who was that guy who came to see you?”

“A friend of Ru’s who has proof that Ru wasn’t involved in the murder.”

His mom slapped a hand on her heart. “Oh thank God!”

“Yes. He says he has witnesses and everything.”

Benson fell back into the chair. “That changes things. Courtney, let’s revise the statement so it expresses our total faith in Rupert Maitland and the justice system.”

Gray frowned. “What were you going to say?”

“Doesn’t matter now.”

Gray stared across the room. “Hello, Penelope. May I ask why you’re here?”

She smiled. “I wanted to meet your parents.”

His mother laughed. “Yes, Penelope and I have been having a great chat.”

“And your statements regarding me were—” He paused.

Penelope waved a hand. “In the heat of the moment, darling. Benson explained how things have been deteriorating, and I thought perhaps I could help.” She smiled. “And no, you don’t have to marry me.”

His mother looked around. “Deteriorating?”

Penelope patted her hand. “Just that the press loves to insinuate that Gray is gay. When we split up, the rumors got more intense.”

“I see. And this is a problem?”

“Yes, dear. Action stars are never gay. It will seriously impinge on Gray’s audience if such rumors persist.”

“Oh.” She nodded and glanced at Gray.

Gray stared out at his life spread across his sitting room. A future of lying to the press, dissembling to his parents, squiring women he didn’t love to places he didn’t want to go.

Benson stood. “Why don’t we all go out to lunch and let the press take a lot of pictures before you have to be at the theater?”

Might as well get on with it.

RU STOOD
just inside the front door of the police department with Fred and Bernardo. Outside, the press hung like birds on a wire. “So all they have to do is verify Bernardo’s story, and I’m off the hook?”

Fred nodded. “Yes. And there’s not much verification to do, since Mr. Peña had signed affidavits from the witnesses.” He grinned. “Now aren’t you glad you didn’t volunteer any information?”

“Hell yes. But I’m especially glad Bernardo remembered what I didn’t do.” He squeezed Bernardo’s hand.

“It was probably more memorable to me than to you.” He winked and Ru snorted.

Fred looked confused. “A memorable movie?”

“Oh yes, it was one of my favorites. A Bruce Willis film. I always liked him.”

Ru fought laughter. Apparently they had gone to a movie that day after their oral encounter in the bathroom. It hadn’t been hard for Bernardo to persuade the other two guys they went with to recall that they’d arrived at the theater a few minutes earlier than they actually had. “So the police chief will make an announcement or something?”

Fred nodded. “Yes, they assured me they would.”

“So shall we face the music?”

Bernardo grasped Ru’s hand as they ran out the door of the police station. Reporters pressed in toward them.

“What news do you have regarding the allegations against Ru?”

Fred stopped and held up his hand. “We can’t make any statement yet—except to say it’s good news.” He smiled broadly.

“Hey, Ru, who’s your friend?”

Ru glanced at Bernardo. What would he say?

“My name is Bernardo Peña. I’ve been a friend of Ru Maitland for many years. I was with him at the movies at the time the murder was committed and have other witnesses to prove it. The charges against Ru are a simple matter of mistaken identity, I expect. But regardless, those are the facts.”

So much for waiting for the police statements.

A female reporter yelled, “Hey, Ru, won’t Merle Justice be jealous?”

“Bernardo and I are just friends.”

Ru heard laughter and looked up at Bernardo in time to catch his raised eyebrow and wink.
Damn the man.

Bernardo waved at the reporters, who continued to yell questions as he opened the passenger door of his black Mercedes and let Ru into the cushy seat. Fred crawled into the backseat on his own. Before Bernardo could get the door closed, a reporter called, “Hey, Ru, what does Gray Anson think of all this?”

Ru smiled, though it took all his strength. “He’s the one who provided Mr. Arthur’s services. I’ll always be grateful.”

“What about your Fashion Week collection?”

“That’s where I’ll be going first thing tomorrow. But tonight I’ll be attending the performance at the Playhouse.”

“Isn’t tonight Gray’s last performance as Hamlet?”

“Oh yes, I suppose it is.” He nodded. “But the play will continue tomorrow without him.”

Bernardo slammed the car door.

GRAY WALKED
out of the restaurant with Penelope on one arm and his mom on the other. Cameras snapped, and both press and fans lined the parking lot. They’d gone back to the restaurant on the hill his mother liked. While they’d been inside, drones and even a news helicopter had gathered overhead. Benson beamed. Oh yeah, his show entirely.

Chris held the doors for all of them. The reporters were a little polite—probably in deference to his parents.

“Hey, Gray, are you and Penelope back together?”

“Mrs. Anson, how do you like California?”

“Gray, what do you think about the Ru Maitland case?”

Gray stopped and began to turn, but Benson grabbed his arm and pushed him into the limo. He stepped in behind him. “Best to not comment until the police have done their thing.”

He nodded. Who knew what was true? “Drop me off at the theater, Chris, then take my folks back to the hotel to rest until curtain.” He glanced at Penelope. “Are you coming to the show? I can get you a ticket.”

“I have nothing to wear.”

He pointed at the skirt and blouse she had on. “That looks great.”

His mother chimed in, “Oh yes, do come with us.”

Man, his mother sure did love Penelope.

“Why, thank you. I’d be delighted.”

Gray sighed very, very softly.

At the Playhouse he trudged toward the dressing rooms, but Artie stopped him. “Hey, Gray, this is Malcolm Zanders. He’ll be taking over as Hamlet.”

Gray shook the hand of the handsome, tall, but slightly nerdy-looking actor, probably a few years older than Gray. They’d been rehearsing during the days while he’d been filming and obsessing about Ru.

Malcolm smiled broadly. “I’m honored, Gray, both to meet you and to take over for you in the role. I’ve read nothing but great reviews.”

“Artie’s a wonderful director. He pulled the performance out of me.” He didn’t want to think about who’d really done that.

He walked back to the dressing room—he got his own—and started on his makeup. He loved this part. Even after a week, he still had to concentrate to get it right. So different than movies, where it was all done for you. The base he’d mixed before the first performance stood waiting for him in a sealed jar. Just the right amount of grayish pigment had been mixed in the flesh tone to convey Hamlet’s dull gray state of mind. Man, that fit him perfectly.

After he finished his makeup, he pulled on his first act costume—the black leather suit that fit like so much skin. Man, he got off on wearing Ru’s costumes. So brilliant, so perfect for the characters, so sexy. That about summed up the man. Brilliant, sexy, and perfect. Would he come tonight?

Gray walked out of his dressing room to the wings and peeked into the rapidly filling audience. All the reviewers who hadn’t made it into the show before tonight would be standing in line to see it. The reviews had been great. Hell, he’d had a wonderful time.

There in row three sat his mom and dad with Penelope between them. They must be happy to finally meet a girl he’d dated. In high school he’d barely gone out with girls. He just played sports and pretended he wasn’t all that interested in a social life. The fact that he and the captain of the soccer team sucked each other off in the backseat of his car never came to light.
What a frigging hypocrite you are.

He caught his breath. Ru. Yeah, Ru and Bernardo walked down the aisle. Ru appeared tired—and beautiful. All dark and sexy, Bernardo looked about twice as handsome as he had earlier at the hotel. So the guy must be staking his claim. Gray’s stomach tightened.
What the hell do you think you can do about it, hypocrite?

Gray’s mom glanced up, saw Ru, jumped from her seat, and practically knocked down a couple of patrons getting to him. He gave her a hug with such a sweet expression on his face it made Gray ache. She chatted with him animatedly for a minute. He introduced her to Bernardo. She grasped the man’s hands with both of hers. Right. The superhero of the damned day.

The house lights flashed and they all went back to their seats. Gray turned toward the green room. No problem being the melancholy Dane tonight.

Three hours later, he sat at the makeup table again and creamed off the gunk for the last time. Kind of made him sad.

He looked up at a soft tap. “Yes.”

Artie stuck his head in. “We’ve got a ton of space reserved at the Ocean for a going-away party for you and Merle and the others who are leaving. Hope you can come.”

“I’ve got my parents with me.”

“Perfect. Bring them.”

“Uh, is Ru coming?”

Artie smiled. “I think so. We sure invited him.”

Don’t be stupid, Gray.
But he still smiled.

He hurried through dressing and went into the auditorium to meet his parents and—right, Penelope. His dad gave him a handshake. “Good job, son. Really proud of you.”

“Thank you, sir.” He lived for those moments.

His mother clapped her hands. “I think this is something you need to do more often. You get to find out how talented you are some way other than box-office receipts.”

What a smart lady his mom was. He gave her a kiss. “We’ve been invited to a cast party at the Ocean Bar.”

“Are you sure we won’t be in the way?”

“No, Artie said specifically to bring you.” He looked at Penelope. “Can you join us? If not, Chris can take you back to your car.” He tried not to cross his fingers.

“I’d love to come. Thank you.”

Maybe he should have used a rabbit’s foot. He escorted them out the front, ducked the press photographers, and they piled into the limo. Chris let them off right in front of the bar, and they all ran in through the door. Chris promised he’d come back after parking the car and keep an eye out for marauding reporters.

As usual, Artie waved from the back, but they’d roped off a big section of the bar this time, and people from the cast and crew milled around, drinking.

Gray’s eyes searched the crowd with no permission from him. His heart skipped and then beat too fast. Looking resplendent in a pair of striped pants, a black T-shirt, and a flowy flowered jacket, Ru sipped champagne, talking to Beverly and Bernardo. He looked up with his tigery eyes as if Gray had called him. His lips turned up until his eyes shifted to the side where Penelope stood. He frowned and looked back at his companions.

His mom tapped Gray’s chest. “Look, it’s Ru. Let’s go say hi.” She took off with his dad trailing behind.

Penelope took hold of his arm. “Maybe you shouldn’t. He is the source of all the gossip.”

“He’s my partner. Of course I’m going to talk to him.”

She shrugged and slipped her arm through his.
Shit.
He walked across the room, pulled by the Ru Maitland tractor beam. They arrived just as his mother said, “We can’t tell you how happy we are that you arrived in the nick of time, Bernardo.”

“I’m happy I could help.” He looked up at Gray and nodded. “Anson.” Then he stared pointedly at Penelope, who still clung to Gray’s arm. “Hello. I’m Bernardo Peña.”

She gave him a huge smile. “Oh yes. I saw you briefly at the hotel. I’m Penelope Tisane, Gray’s—” She paused. “—friend.”