Page 98 of Best Supporting Actor

Tag swallowed.Fuck. “He’s—shit, Henry, he’s gone.”

A long pause followed.

“Gone home to—” Tag’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “He said he couldn’t handle his stage fright. He’s quit. He left last night.”

“Oh sodding hell,” Henry said, with feeling. “I really hoped this wouldn’t happen.”

Tag couldn’t help saying, “I really wish someone had told me it was a possibility! I could have…” He closed his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “I could have been less of an arse about it.”

Another silence crackled down the line before Henry said, “Does Bea know?”

“Not from me.”

“Right. I’ll call her and round up the others. We’ll meet at the theatre at seven. We’ve got twelve hours until curtain up.”

Tag blinked, staring at Jay’s coffee cup by the sink. Curtain up? “Henry,” he said, “I have to—we have to speak to Jay and make sure he’s okay.”

“And we will,” Henry soothed. “Don’t worry. Just come to the theatre and we’ll sort everything out.”

Tag nodded, then realised Henry couldn’t see him and said, “Okay.”

“Oh, and Tag? Don’t tell anyone else about this yet.”

“Of course not.” After fucking up with Austin Coburn, telling anyone Jay’s business was the last thing Tag would ever do. “I’ll see you at seven.”

It was five to seven when he reached the theatre, after forcing himself to take a shower, shave, and pull together everything he needed for the day, and for the evening in case he didn’t get home before the performance.

Even so, he wasn’t the first to arrive. Bea was already there, pacing outside the locked door, her red hair a wild tangle scraped back into a hasty ponytail, looking like she’d just rolled out of bed. Rafe was with her, and Tag didn’t miss his air of suppressed excitement. Couldn't blame him for it either. Any actor would jump at the chance to take over a leading role, even at the expense of another’s misfortune. Tag’s stomach sank, Jay’s absence now a physical ache in his chest. Rafe was a decent actor, but Tag wanted Jay.

He wanted Jay in every part of his life.

“Tag,” Bea wailed, reaching in to give him a hug. “I can’t fucking believe this.” She sniffed, and Tag could see she’d been crying. “Daddy warned me it was a risk, but I can’t believe Jay woulddothis!”

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” Tag said, giving her a brief squeeze and letting go. “It’s not his fault he suffers from stage fright.”

“I know, but onopening night?”

Tag dragged a hand through his hair, aware his temper was short, aware they were all dancing on raw nerves. He didn’t blame Bea for being pissed off—it was exactly how he’d felt last night—but that only made him feel worse about how he’d acted. He’d been so self-centred and dismissive. “Everyone’s nervous on opening night,” he pointed out curtly. Then, to cut the conversation short, he went over and tried the handle to the stage door. “Don’t you have a key?”

“Henry does.”

“Listen,” Rafe said then, resting a hand on Tag’s shoulder. When Tag looked around, Rafe was regarding him earnestly, although the gleam of excitement in his eyes wasn’t quite doused. “I know this isn’t ideal, but I just want to say that I’m going to do my best tonight. It’s going to be a good show regardless.”

Tag nodded, patting Rafe’s hand and subtly dislodging his grip. “Yeah. And listen, for the record, I think you’re great. We’ll be fine.”

“We will,” Rafe said sincerely, turning his attention to Bea. “You can rely onme.”

Had Tag really heard that subtle emphasis onme?

Bea gave a watery smile. “I know I can, Rafe. It’s just—” Her eyes filled. “Since it came out that Jay was our star, we’vetotallysold out for every show. And now everyone’s going to besodisappointed. I’ll be a laughing stock.”

Irritated, Tag said, “Shame we didn’t keep it secret, then.”

“WellIdidn’t tell anyone,” Bea objected, although her cheeks flushed. “I mean, nobody who mattered.”

Soothingly—and without looking at Tag—Rafe said, “I’m sure Tag was talking about himself, giving the scoop to Austin Coburn.”

“Oh God,” Bea cried, “Austin’s going to be there tonight!”