Rainbow Blues (4 page)

“I’d like that, Bennett.” Shit. He didn’t think he was misreading Bennett’s signals. Luke might not have spent much time trying to find dates or friends, but he didn’t think Bennett looked at him as anything but a friend.

It was a fucking shame he wasn’t attracted to Bennett, but at least the lack of sexual attraction was mutual or this could get uncomfortable. They’d moved to a spot along the wall, watching the intermingling of guys who were strangers to Luke before this night, but he could have come across any of them during the course of his job. Luke was pleasantly buzzed, so he’d switched to coffee. Last thing he needed was to hit a ride program doing spot-checks.

But he did need to clear up any potential misconceptions. “Uh, as friends, right?” Luke shut his eyes and bit back a groan. If he’d had more finesse, he should have applied some… any… to his words.

Bennett just laughed. “Oh, Luke. Yes, friends. Maybe our first meeting isn’t the place to discuss it, but you’re not my type, and I’m pretty sure I’m not yours. But I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.” Luke heaved a sigh of relief. So many times tonight, Bennett could have headed for the hills, but he hadn’t, and Luke was ready to call the evening a success. One friend, with the potential for a roomful of them, was an excellent start.

“So, this might be a loaded question, considering… well… considering we’re all here, but are you doing anything for Christmas? I mean, you’ve mentioned a son and ex-wife, but do you have any other family?” For all that Bennett had implied it was a loaded question, Luke couldn’t tell if Bennett was going to be alone on Christmas and was angling for company or if he assumed Luke would be alone and was prepared to offer a place to go.

“My son and his friend are spending Christmas with me. Did you want to join us?”

A wide, happy smile made the corners of Bennett’s eyes crinkle. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll let you know, if you don’t mind? I have a job that might keep me in the city, instead of heading home for the holiday.”

Luke had to call the evening a success.

L
UKE
WRAPPED
his brand new rainbow scarf around his neck to protect himself from the whipping wind. Zach had given him the scarf for Christmas, and while he wasn’t particularly intent on proclaiming his sexuality like a flag tied around his neck, there wasn’t any reason for anyone to suppose a rainbow automatically spoke to sexual orientation. Or so he kept telling himself.

The colors themselves were much brighter than anything he normally wore, and it was the idea he was drawing attention to himself that made him more uncomfortable than letting people know he was gay. After all, he was really only worried about coworkers, not strangers on the street. By the same token, though, he wasn’t quite sure how “out” he was expected to be now that he was out.

Squinting at the front of the playhouse, he wondered if the long-dead designers were rolling in their graves because the beautiful, historical building had been surrounded by tall, square modern buildings that magnified winter breezes into near tornado status.

Shivering, he rubbed his hands together and stomped his feet. January was so fucking cold, and he should have known better than to let Bennett have custody of his ticket. Sure, Bennett was well on his way to becoming a great friend, but Luke had already discovered Bennett wasn’t especially punctual.

“Luke!”

He turned and grinned at a red-faced Bennett.

“Sorry, man, had to park really far away. It’s fucking freezing out here!”

Luke laughed. “I know. I’ve been waiting almost twenty minutes. I got a good spot, though, so I can give you a lift to your car after.”

“You want to grab a drink or a late dinner after? You’re not working weekends in this weather, are you?”

“We’ll see. The job site’s shut for a couple of weeks, but if the weather gets worse, might be better to just head home.” Fucking winter. He should be grateful, though, because he was rarely out of work.

“Sure thing, boss.” Bennett handed over Luke’s ticket. Bennett had spearheaded a movement to get the Rainbow Blues discounted group rates to see the performance, and Luke had already acknowledged a couple of familiar faces while waiting for Bennett.

Luke had never been to a proper play before, never mind on opening night, and he was unreasonably excited.

They headed into the playhouse, and Luke hesitated for a moment before handing over his ticket, but the stragglers behind him crowded into the warmth at the door and in the interest of not blocking people from getting in, Luke released his grip on the ticket.

Inside, the cozy warmth was almost painful against his wind-seared cheeks.

“You okay, Luke?” He must have spent longer at the door than he’d thought, because Bennett had already shed his coat and leaned against a wall waiting for him.

He nodded, but accompanying a gay man to a play about a gay man coming out, while wearing a rainbow scarf… this was a pretty big step for him. Scary as fuck, but he finally felt like his life had taken a few halting steps forward out of stagnation.

With a grin, he followed Bennett to their seats.

J
IMMY
A
LEXANDER
couldn’t stop smiling. He loved this play. He loved his role as the romantic lead in a cutting edge story about two men falling in love,
with
a fucking happy ever after. He loved that they’d played to a full house, and best of all, opening night had been an astounding success. Odds were good they wouldn’t ever be able to recapture the magic they’d created tonight, but hell, he probably couldn’t handle that much perfection anyway. Besides, if they were going to get it right, opening night was the night to do it, since so many reviewers and critics would have been in the audience.

“Jimmy, you were fabulous out there.” Damian, the director and his best friend, hugged him breathless. Damian was one of the most supportive directors he’d worked with and never played favorites with him enough that the rest of the actors grumbled. When preparing for plays and rehearsing, Damian was a strict, unsmiling taskmaster, but outside of his directing, he was effusive and fun, and Jimmy knew he wasn’t the only one who was going to get lavish praise and hugs.

He and Damian had met during teacher’s college, and discovered their mutual love of theater, but Damian didn’t like teaching as much as Jimmy did, and was a professional substitute teacher, on top of his directing duties.

“Thanks. Everything just fell right into place. We all fit together like magic.”

Performing was a high he rarely got from anything else. Sex, sure, if the guy was any good. Teaching, well, when a student would come along whose desire to learn got fired up in one of Jimmy’s classes, that was a pretty good high too. But performing was what he lived for. It was what he got up in the morning for. It was why he slogged through the 90 percent of craptastic bureaucracy, sullen teenagers, and illogical, irate parents, who only seemed to care about their children’s education if they could spout abuse at one of the teachers.

He stripped and toweled off before getting dressed in his street clothes. There was supposed to be another snowstorm heading in overnight, but Jimmy didn’t care. He wanted to enjoy the high. Nothing like accolades to buoy up his spirits. Most people who didn’t know him would say it was rejection by his family that made him seek acceptance and love from the strangers in the audience. Except, they’d be wrong. His family had always been supportive, even to the point of financing a year in Hollywood for him to attempt the whole “trying to be a movie star” thing. But he’d been a good-looking, talented young guy in a fucking sea of good-looking, talented young guys, and he just hadn’t stood out.

But acting in plays at the local playhouse? That gave him more satisfaction than scrambling from audition to audition and surviving on ramen three meals a day most weeks because his parents’ allowance hadn’t left any wiggle room for any extravagances, like alcohol. Probably because he’d been too young to buy it himself, although that hadn’t stopped him.

By rights, he should slip out the back and get home ahead of the snow, but there was no way he was giving up his reward. He’d given up the dream of movie stardom on a hot day at the end of summer in a scuzzy shared apartment in California when he was twenty. In the eighteen years since, he’d carved out a comfortable life for himself. There were fans out there, waiting to greet him. He wasn’t famous, but he loved it, regardless.

He was ready long before his fellow actors. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he was only able to make himself wait a minute or two before he couldn’t stand it any longer. He slipped out to the foyer.

There were a few folks waiting near the door with flowers, sending a twinge of sadness through him. He’d told his friends and family he only wanted to be greeted with flowers from the love of his life. At thirty-eight, with no candidates for a long-term relationship in sight, he was just about ready to let go of that dream as well.

“Jimmy! You were incredible!” Karen Harper swept him up in a hug and kissed him on the cheek. Karen was the chemistry teacher at his school; they had adjoining classrooms and had become great friends from almost the first day. Of course, if Jimmy weren’t out and proud, Karen’s unabashed affection would have the entire faculty thinking they were more than just friends.

“Thank you.” Jimmy smiled and hugged her back.

Karen proffered him a glass filled with bubbles.

“Champagne?”

“Well, if it can’t be flowers, it’s got to be champagne. We need to celebrate. You had a spectacular performance, your best ever.”

His eyes burned a bit from the praise. Would have been nice if his family were here as well, but his parents had left the cold and snow immediately after Christmas, and his brother and sister were scattered far enough around the country to make it difficult to come back, especially in the winter, just to see one of his performances. Wasn’t like he was on Broadway or anything. It was basically just a hobby. A time-consuming one, to be sure, but certainly not the focus of his family’s life.

Within moments, he was surrounded by a group of friends, who all congratulated him. His friends usually tried to make it to his opening-night performances, and this one had been especially dear to their hearts as it was the first play he’d been in that had been about a gay man and one who got a happy ending. While there had been some heartwrenching moments, the whole play was about hope and love, and no matter how jaded and bitter some of his friends had become, love was what they all wanted for themselves.

“G
IVE
ME
your coat check ticket, and I’ll get both of ours.” Bennett held out a hand with a smile.

“Sure, thanks.” Luke pressed himself against the wall and waited.

Instead of a mad rush for the exits, most of the audience seemed to be mingling around, and a few even seemed to have fresh drinks. If the weather was bad enough that people were reluctant to leave, maybe he and Bennett should just head home, not bother with dinner.

A door opened not too far away, followed by a flurry of activity. Luke stared, then the actor came into view. The one who played Gary, the closeted married guy, who had seemed destined to die alone until he got up the courage to come out. Luke had been entranced, and not just because the story had many parallels to his life, to the point he could relate to the play’s title of
Walking Wounded
.

The actor had been stunning. Jimmy Alexander. Tall, blond, slender. Expressive hands with thin fingers that punctuated his words. His face wasn’t perfect and plastic, like generic models on magazine covers. His smile was wide, his eyes a little narrow, and his nose a trifle too big for his face. But Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Near the end, he’d almost lost track of the story line, so intent was he on memorizing every movement of Jimmy’s mouth.

When they’d first entered the theater, he hadn’t understood why anyone had bothered wasting money on the program. Sure, maybe a page or two for “credits” but the booklet seemed excessive. During intermission, however, he’d been thankful for that little booklet as he flipped through it to Jimmy Alexander’s page. The actor was apparently thirty-eight years old—had to be a typo—and had starred in a number of plays, most of which Luke had never heard of. Luke would have much preferred to know what his turn-ons were and whether he was gay. Maybe the program wasn’t all that useful after all.

Within minutes Jimmy was surrounded by people. He shook hands, accepted kisses on the cheek, and drank fizzy champagne. When he threw his head back and laughed, Luke strained to separate the sound of it from the din of the rest of the crowd. It had been a long time since Luke had wanted anything as much as he wanted to lick the long, smooth column of Jimmy’s neck.

More of the cast came out of the door, and more people gathered about, a number of them carrying bouquets of flowers. Luke kept moving, but it was getting harder and harder to get a clear view.