Page 4 of Promises Kept

2.

Awkward Encounter

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and good night.”

The theatre erupted in calls of “Encore, encore,” but as Bennett and the cast of Lonely Dove had already done it twice, Dylan didn’t think they’d be doing another one.

One of his favourite parts of any performance at the Valedictorian theatre, or the Val as it was known, was hearing the audience’s enjoyment at the end of it.

Time to get the leading man to the pub and celebrate another fabulous show.

He made his way to the dressing room to see his best friend and part owner of the theatre disappearing inside. Dylan popped his head in as Bennett sank down into his chair by the dressing table with a sigh.

“Fancy a drink after you clean up?” Dylan called out. “I’m buying. Alec will pop by when he’s done doing whatever it is he does this late at night.”

A tingle of resentment had crept into his tone and he hoped Bennett hadn’t noticed. After all, whatever Alec was doing in his office right now probably involved the upcoming tour Bennett had to showcase his new film. It was disappointment that fuelled the resentment. Lately Alec had been so busy, they’d spent little time together.

Bennett stared, his face sheened in sweat from his stage performance. “With an offer like that, how can I refuse. Give me fifteen to clean up and shower and I’m there. I need a stiff drink.”

Twenty minutes later the pair found themselves in the Jack and Queen not far from the Val. It was a busy pub, filled with local creative types and people from the arty set.

Dylan and Bennett enjoyed people watching, and this place gave them lots to absorb. Dylan loved it for the sheer entertainment, and Bennett, no doubt, for the opportunity to pick up mannerisms and watch body language to file it away for future use in his performances.

They were soon sitting with drinks, Dylan his beer and Bennett his brandy. A half an hour into their chat, Dylan looked up as a quiet voice spoke across from him. His jaw dropped at the sight of the man who’d seated himself next to Bennett.

“Are you two together? I’ve been watching you, and didn’t think so.” The man was about Bennett’s height, good-looking, well built with dark red hair, brown eyes, and a definite look of interest on his face—for Bennett. “Can I buy you a drink?” he offered, eyes raking over Bennett’s body. “I see you’re partial to a good brandy.”

Dylan knew who this man was, and he felt a small spark of ire that he wasn’t the one being approached. He shook his head numbly. “No, we’re, er, just friends.” His innate sense of mischief came to the fore.

Well, well. I’m going to love seeing how this plays out, old bean.

Bennett groaned. “I think you might have the wrong vibes on your radar. I’m not gay, although he is.” He jerked a thumb at Dylan, who raised his glass in acknowledgment. “But he’s spoken for anyway.”

Dylan saw the faint look of pique on his friend’s face. It wasn’t the first time Bennett, with his lanky body, broad shoulders, dark auburn curls, and bright green eyes, had been approached by men.

The man smiled, showing white teeth. “I see. Still, that doesn’t mean I can’t buy you a drink.”

Dylan smirked. Wow, this bugger was persistent. But then he was known to be that way. You didn’t get to be where he was without a sense of tenacity.

“Thanks, but no. I’m still fairly full up here.” Bennett realised what he’d said and flushed. The other man grinned. His scrutiny was obviously making Bennett feel uncomfortable from the pronounced line emerging between his brows and the tense way he held his body. Dylan was enjoying the showdown. The other man had a commanding and powerful presence that was hard to ignore. His eyes seemed to undress Bennett where he sat.

“One can never be too full. It depends really on what one’s full up with,” the other man murmured. Bennett glared at him. Dylan would have to watch Bennett’s legendary temper and stop him from frothing up.

The man smiled and held out a hand to shake.

“Fraser Pearson. And I know who you are. Bennett Saville. I’ve seen you in everything you’ve been in. I’m a huge fan.” He smiled suggestively. Bennett shook his hand, and Dylan saw the man’s thumb slide with an intimate caress across his friend’s open palm.

Bennett drew his hand back, his eyes stony. “Then you’ll know I don’t bat for your team, I’m afraid,” he drawled. “You can stop the flirting.”

Fraser pretended to look taken aback as he relaxed into his seat and regarded Bennett with mischief in his eyes. “Bennett, I know you think you’re straight but sometimes, with the right man, even a straight man can be convinced to take a strike at something different. Believe me, I know. I’ve convinced men before. Haven’t you never thought about being with a man? Ever tried it? Not even a little curious?”

Dylan choked on his beer as Bennett’s mouth fell open. He looked at Fraser in disbelief. The other man looked back with laughing eyes.

“I’m not even going to answer those fucking questions,” Bennett growled when he found his voice. “And I think this conversation has reached its conclusion. Perhaps you need to find someone else to focus your attention on. Someone more suitable.” He turned away, his body language indicating that the conversation was over. His dark glance at Dylan said he was getting fed up and Dylan needed to intervene.

Fraser was chuckling quietly. “God, your face is too precious to see. You play the affronted straight man so well. You should use that whole thing in one of your performances.”

Bennett ignored him as he sipped his drink. He turned to Dylan and muttered quietly, “You’d better give me a hand here because if this guy doesn’t go away soon I’m not going to be responsible for my actions. And I have the feeling that your boyfriend—you remember him, my publicist—won’t like the headlines: Gay bashing in local pub. Bennett Saville says,‘He wouldn’t leave me alone. So, I hit him.’”