Page 19 of Best Supporting Actor
“We, uh, lost track of time, I guess,” Tag said, a faint flush in his cheeks. “We were so busy arguing—”
“Arguing.” Mason snorted, staggering a little. He looked pale and definitely the worse for wear. “Right…”
“We were,” Jay said. “I was having a quiet drink when Tag came over to tell me off for abandoning you with Misty.” He grimaced. “He was right. I’m sorry. She’s just really hard work, you know?”
“Nowyou admit I was right?” Tag exclaimed, outraged.
Jay shot him an irritated look. “I never said you weren’t right. It was the way you said it, like I was being—”
“Jesus Christ!” Mason looked somewhere between amused and despairing. “Whatisit with you two?”
Jay had no answer for that; he had no idea why Tag got under his skin so easily, but he couldn’t deny that he did.
“You know what?” Mason went on. “I don’t even care. Whatever. Let’s just… end this farce, okay? No more dates. With either of you.”
“What?” Tag sounded genuinely dismayed. “No, Mason, I—”
“Come off it,” Mason slurred, lurching when he held up a hand to silence Tag. “Who do you think you’re kidding with this bullshit anyway? Why don’t you just go fuck each other’s brains out already, instead of pretending this weird competition has anything to do with me?”
Jay’s gaze darted to Tag, who was staring at Mason in…horror? Jay couldn’t quite label the expression flickering over Tag’s irritatingly handsome face, but yeah, it was something close to horror. Probably something close to what Jay was feeling to be honest. Jay opened his mouth to assure Mason that there was nothing likethatbetween himself and Tag, but Tag got in first, hissing, “See what you’ve done?”
As always, Tag’s anger was like a flame to touchpaper. Immediately, Jay’s resentment flared. “WhatI’vedone?”
“Yeah.” Tag jabbed him in the chest. “You left him alone all night!”
“Youcould have talked to him.” Jay jabbed him right back. “But here you are, haranguing me, instead!”
“Haranguing?” Tag exclaimed. “I was notharanguingyou.”
Vaguely, Jay was aware of new arrivals, another conversation starting up beside them, but he paid no mind because he and Tag were toe-to-toe now, Tag giving it to him with both barrels. Jay couldn’t look away, his gaze intent on Tag’s angry, handsome,infuriatingface.
“This is so typical of your type,” Tag spat. “If someone like me—a working-class man trying to break into the profession—justdares to point out when you’re behaving in a shitty way, you immediately dismiss them as aggressive and hysterical and—”
“Mytype?” Jay cut in, furious. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means,” Tag shot back. “People from your privileged little elite, with your expensive educations and family connections that give you a handy leg up while the rest of us—”
“Ibegyour pardon?” an angry voice interjected, and this one was too loud to ignore—not to mention it sounded horribly like Austin Coburn.
Fuck.Austin was the last person Jay wanted to witness his public spat with Tag. God knew how he’d use it in his despicable ‘A Little Bird Tells Me’ column. Jaw clenched, Jay braced himself to find Austin’s gimlet gaze fixed on him—but it wasn’t. No, all of Austin’s furious attention was focused on Lewis Hunter’s brother, Owen, of all people.
Owen appeared to be entirely unmoved by Austin’s spiteful glare, regarding him with a sort of amused indifference, while Mason looked between the two of them, the third point of their triangle, swaying a little on his feet.
“I saw you taking pictures on your phone,” Owen told Austin mildly. “And I don’t think anyone here wants that right now.” He looked at the rest of them, as though to confirm his assumption, his calm gaze taking in Tag, Jay, and Mason. “Right?”
Photographs?Jay felt a rush of fury. He clenched his jaw and his fists, nails biting into his palms. What an utter fucking prick. Coburn called himself an ‘arts critic’, but Jay knew he could be as sleazy as the worst tabloid hack.
Tag’s gaze moved from Austin to Jay, clearly picking up on the tension, and for an instant he looked surprised, as if he’d glimpsed Jay’s anger—which was galling because Jay prided himself on his ability to act professionally in even the most trying of circumstances. Hastily, he donned his usual mask, languid and unconcerned. “Yes, that’s right,” he said, channelling Dame Cordelia’s most contemptuous tone. “Do run along, Austin, old chap.”
Austin shot him a venomous look, then turned on Owen to continue the argument. But Jay stopped listening because, right then, he glanced over at Tag, and found the other man staring at him with an odd expression—an odd expression that transformed into a crimson flush when Jay caught him looking.
Their gazes locked awkwardly, only breaking apart when Austin noisily stormed off, and Owen said, apologetically, “Sorry about that, but I saw him sneaking photos of you, and you all looked like you were, er, preoccupied… I hope I haven’t put my foot in it or anything?”
“Not at all,” Jay said quickly. “Quite the opposite in fact. Austin Coburn is a pompous prick who’s hated me since prep school. I’m grateful you spotted what he was up to.”
Tag snorted and muttered, “Prepschool.”
Irritated, Jay ignored Tag, offering Owen his most charming smile and adding, “Watching you put him in his place is the most fun I’ve had in what’s been a very long and tedious evening.”