Page 43 of Best Supporting Actor
“It is!” Tag assured him hurriedly, colour rising in his cheeks. “It’s just, uh, a thing my flatmate organised. A getting-to-know-you thing.”
Henry nodded, though his gaze remained sharp and fixed on Tag. “Another night, then?”
“Definitely,” Tag said. “How about, er, Sunday?”
That was three nights away. Did Tag have plans every night until then?
“My, you do have an active social life,” Rafe said, cattily echoing Jay’s own unworthy thoughts.
Tag looked like he didn’t know how to respond, but before things could get too awkward, Freddie chimed in with, “Sunday suits me better, to be honest. I’m knackered tonight, Hal. It’s been a long week, and it’s only Wednesday.”
“Me too,” Jay added quickly, picking up his cue. “To be honest, I was planning on a hot bath and an early night. Plus, Sunday will give us time to book a table somewhere nice.”
“Oh!” Bea piped up. “And you know what would be awesome? I could invite Giles Cox.” To Jay, she added, “He’s the artistic director of the York Drama Festival. He’s been so supportive.” Her eyes twinkled. “And he’s dying to meetyou.”
Jay felt his heart sink. Clearly, she was expecting him to butter this guy up.
“All right.” Henry had ceased his scrutiny of Tag and clapped his hands, decision made. “Sunday it is, then. Bea, why don’t you find somewhere suitable and ping round the details?” To Tag he said, “Enjoy your evening. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning, yes?”
“Absolutely,” Tag said, nodding. He looked embarrassed, though, and Jay felt a flash of resentment on his behalf; no need for Henry to treat Tag like a naughty schoolboy in front of everyone. He’d never once been late for rehearsal, and always gave his all.
As they were getting ready to leave, Jay strolled casually over to where Tag was shrugging into his jacket and murmured, “Hey, don’t worry about Henry. He’s pretty old school, you know? Company first, cast is family and all that. My mother’s the same.”
Tag looked up at him from under an unruly fall of dark hair, which he quickly pushed back from his face. “Is she?”
“Oh, you can’t imagine.” He smiled. “As long as you keep bringing it at rehearsals, Henry will be fine.” Jay attempted a laugh, although it sounded somewhat strained, and added, “Just don’t havetoomuch fun, or we’ll all be jealous.”
Tag gave him a rather flat look. “I think I can guarantee that I won’t.” Then he nodded, gaze lingering for just a beat too long before he swung his backpack over one shoulder, and said, “Have a good night, Jay. See you tomorrow.”
When the door closed behind him, Jay realised that he’d been staring and quickly looked away, only to find Freddie eying him with the look of a woman who’d seen it all before.
“That’s a young man who’s got a lot on his plate,” she observed to nobody in particular.
* * *
There was no rehearsal on Sunday, and Jay spent an enjoyable morning sleeping in, followed by a leisurely afternoon exploring the beautiful city of York with its winding cobbled streets, ancient city walls, and, of course, its glorious Minster.
He was spotted a few times and took a couple of selfies with people, but mostly he tried to keep a low profile behind his dark glasses and baseball cap. The weather so far had bucked the stereotype for Yorkshire and the sun had shone most days, warming the May air into something that felt like summer.
As he ambled home along the river, he found himself wondering what Tag had been up to all day. Resting, hopefully. He’d obviously been exhausted again at yesterday’s rehearsal, forgetting lines and losing focus. Henry clearly wasn’t happy about it, and that worried Jay. If Tag carried on like this, Henry might do something drastic—he wouldn’t be the first undisciplined actor Henry had cut during rehearsals.
Not that Jay thought Tagwasundisciplined. But he couldn’t help remembering the first time they’d met, at the RPP Hallowe’en party, Tag gorgeous and flirtatious in those obscene silver shorts, joking about blowing Jay in the loos and then spending the rest of the night trying to get into Mason Nash’s pants.
A starfucker, Jay had assumed. A beautiful young actor looking for a good time—and maybe a career boost.
And then, at the awards dinner, Tag had been the one to drag Jay into bed. Not that he’d needed much dragging, but still...
Wasthatthe real Tag? A fun-loving party boy who’d already found the best gay bar in town?
Maybe. Yet somehow it didn’t add up, not when he thought about howgoodTag was, how seriously he took his work. Surely he wouldn’t blow this chance for the sake of a couple of Jägerbombs and a quick shag at the Black Bear?
No, it didn’t make sense. Jay felt like he was missing something important.
By the time he’d returned to his cosy little apartment, it was time to shower, change, and head out for the evening. The restaurant Bea had chosen turned out to be a charming brasserie nestled on the banks of the Ouse in a lovely old brick building that, according to the plaque out front, had once housed the pump engine for the waterworks.
Jay was shown to their table by a wide-eyed waitress who blushed furiously when she recognised him. Jay took care to thank her, offering a smile that only deepened her embarrassment. He’d found that some fans felt quite overwhelmed around him, and the kindest thing to do was let them deal with it themselves without appearing to notice.
Henry, Bea, and Rafe had already arrived. They were sitting at a round table surrounded on three sides by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the river on one side, and a small park on the other.