“I’m not going to take out an ad in the paper or anything,” Steve said. They were coming up on the doors to the waterfront, and the lights made his eyes shine and highlighted the color in his cheeks. Drew had the sudden intrusive thought that he looked like he belonged here, in the spotlight, on Drew’s arm. “Let’s see how tonight goes first.”
Drew had a good feeling about it now.
He squeezed Steve’s hand once, then gave it a tug, leading him out the glass doors to the patio.
The waterfront was dressed up with all the glitz and glamor only Hollywood could furnish. White-clad waitstaff with gleaming trays circulated the crowd, delivering hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Even the boats in the marina seemed to have been scrubbed until they shone.
“Wow.”
Drew smiled. “Never been here for a private event before?”
Shaking his head, Steve looked around, taking everything in. “No. Been to a couple fancy Hollywood shindigs in my time, but never here. Nice ambiance.”
“Champagne, sirs?” The waitress offering the tray barely came up to Drew’s elbow.
“I will, yeah. Steve?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
Drew took two glasses, and the waitress wove off through the crowd. Soon enough people would be clamoring for his attention, but for now—“Cheers,” he said. “To our jobs, our movie, and our date.”
Steve touched his glass to Drew’s.
And then, slowly, the crowd swallowed them.
“You can relax a little,” Drew said. “No one’s going to get mad at you if you accidentally bump into them. We’re all here to have a good time.”
Steve looked up, and Drew could see him try to loosen the set of his shoulders in an effort to take up the correct amount of space. “That obvious, huh?”
Drew tapped the side of his nose. “Acting. I am a student of body language.”
If he’d gone with Leigh, they’d have drifted apart and back together a few times over the course of the night—but that wouldn’t have really been a date. With Steve he stayed close, and people noticed.
He was trying to steer them in the direction of more hors d’oeuvres when he literally bumped elbows with someone he recognized, and he stalled Steve with a quick tug and smiled widely. “Well, well. Fancy meeting you here.”
“Drew Beaumont, as I live and breathe. And who’s this?” asked Lorna Prout with a devious twinkle in her eye, no less a gossip queen at seventy-three than she was at twenty, or so Drew had been led to believe. “I’m not sure we’ve met.”
This time Drew didn’t even need to take a fortifying breath. Of its own accord, his hand found the small of Steve’s back and pulled him closer. “Lorna, this is Steve Sopol. My date.”
For his part, Steve never seemed to get starstruck. He shook hands gamely or exchanged nods with a few notorious germophobes, or, as he did now, pulled off a suave knuckle kiss as though he had old Hollywood running through his blood. But it never felt fake or condescending. Steve was a better actor than Drew had given him credit for. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Prout.”
“The pleasure is mine, Steven. And call me Lorna, please.”
Or maybe he really was just that good with people. Lorna certainly seemed charmed, more so when Steve procured another glass of champagne for her. She and Drew exchanged anecdotes about dogs, Steve chiming in with his own story about Jarmo, his neighbor’s Akita, who loved his “grandma” so much he dragged his master thirty-seven blocks for a visit.
“And then her mom wasn’t even home,” Steve said, “but the dog wouldn’t leave until she showed up.”
Lorna laughed. “Maybe I should get my son a dog, is that what you’re saying? Then he’ll visit more.”
“Couldn’t hurt!” Steve smiled, then finished his champagne and set the glass on the table. “Excuse me—I’ve got to go powder my nose.”
Drew watched him leave, shaking his head.
“Where did you find him?” Lorna asked, leaning in. “He is charming.”
“My agent’s office, indirectly.” Ironic, considering Drew had fired his publicist for arranging his dates for him, once upon a time. “A happy accident, I think.”
She raised her eyebrows in polite censure. “You think? Young man, if you aren’t sure, I can think of several parties who would be interested. Those shoulders….”
