Page 30 of Best Supporting Actor

“You’ve read it?”

Exasperated, he blurted, “Christ, don’t look so surprised!” Immediately, he was annoyed at himself for the brief loss of his cool, but Tag’s habit of always thinking the worst of him was beginning to grate on his nerves. Determinedly pushing his irritation aside, he took a deep breath and added more calmly, “It’s a brilliant play, and I confess that Sassoon…speaks to me as a character.”

“I can see that he would,” Tag said, his expression turning thoughtful. “Yeah, you’ve got all that starchy upper-class reserve going on, but underneath…” He trailed off, a slight flush rising into his cheeks. “You’ll be good as Sassoon.”

“Not too wooden?” Jay said pointedly.

Tag’s flush deepened, but he brazened it out with a grin. “I’m willing to be convinced I was wrong about that.”

Cheeky bastard. And, despite everything, Jay found himself reluctantly charmed by Tag’s chutzpah.

Still, he couldn’t accept the role. After the near disaster with the Dracula thing, he’d sworn to never, ever put himself through the trauma of live theatre again. The very thought made his throat close in panic.

“Look,” Tag said, leaning forward, his keen gaze on Jay. “How about this? We forget everything that’s happened before today. It’s water under the bridge. Gone. We start again from now. Just two actors embarking on an exciting new production together.”

Jay drummed his fingers on the table. He wanted to say no, but Tag looked so eager sitting there in his City Beans shirt, watching Jay intently, as if he held Tag’s life in his hands. Which he did, in a way, he supposed. And then he remembered the tearful bob of Bea’s throat when she’d realised that Dame Cordelia had over-promised regarding Jay’s involvement in the play. His bloody mother... Christ, he could practically hear her now.

Darling, always be generous with your talent and your time. We, at the summit, are obliged to extend a hand down to those still climbing the slopes.

And Tagwasstill climbing, living hand to mouth but fired with ambition. Bea was climbing too, although she’d started rather higher up the mountain than Tag. Jay, of course, had been born at the top.

That wasn’t his fault, but his motherwasright; it did burden him with responsibility, whether he liked it or not.

“The success of this production is built around you.”

If Tag had meant that to prick Jay’s conscience or stroke his ego, he’d been way off the mark. Nothing could be more terrifying. Jay couldn’t deny it was true, though. The problem was, Tag didn’t know that Jay was hopelessly flawed, a cracked foundation, and that any production built around him was liable to collapse at the last moment.

He chewed his lip, considering. “What about—?” He cleared his throat, saw Tag watching him with his clenched fingers turning white on the table. “What about the romantic scenes? How would we deal with those?”

Tag just shrugged. “Weareactors, Jay. Adults, too. Anyway, we’re starting fresh, remember? Everything before today is forgotten.”

Easy for him to say, but there was no way Jay could forget last night. Neither the intensity of the sex, nor what had come after. This morning he’d expected—hoped, rather—to never see Tag again, and here he was, facing the prospect of spending a couple of months working intensely with him. Christ, it was impossible.

“Sorry I was so long,” Bea said, breezing back to the table and taking her seat.

Tag shifted awkwardly. “No problem,” he said. “Jay and I were just, uh, discussing the play.”

“Yes?” Her hopeful gaze travelled to Jay. “Tag did amarvellousaudition for Owen. He’s going to be wonderful. You both are.” She pressed her hands to her chest, eying them. “Oh, you look amazing together. Henry said you would. Owen and Sassoon are sitting right here, right now. I’m getting goosebumps!”

Across the table, Tag met Jay’s eyes. His brows lifted in a question. Or maybe a plea.

Heart thudding, Jay took a long swallow of wine. He felt rather like a man forced to walk the plank, balancing on the end with a pirate poking him in the back with a cutlass. Only it wasn’t a pirate, it was his mother poking him with her expectations, it was Bea with her hope, and it was Tag with his bright, burning ambition.

All depending on him to make the right decision.

More than all that, though, it was the play itself, the character of Sassoon, calling to him from the deep with an elusive pull that he’d not felt in a long time. Whispering that maybe he could do it, that maybe this time, under Henry’s steady hand, everything would be all right. That the risk was worth taking for a chance at regaining what he’d lost.

Jay set down his glass so that the others couldn’t see the sudden tremor in his hand. “Well,” he said graciously, “I am very fond of York.”

ACT TWO

CHAPTERSEVEN

Tag

Three months later - May

With relief, Tag manoeuvred himself and his luggage onto the final escalator heading up from the tube, trying not to take out a tourist with his massive rucksack while he dragged his wheeled suitcase onto the step below him.