The Artist and the Actor – 31

 

 

Their waiter appeared at that moment, asking what they'd like to drink.

 

"Good question," Shane said. "Is the coffee strong?"

 

The waiter grinned. "It'll grow hair on your chest, if you don’t already have it."

 

"Well, now…"

 

As they continued bantering, Colin watched, wishing he had Shane's ability to chat up anyone he came in contact with. I'd have ordered the coffee, or another beer, and left it at that, the way I always do when I'm out.

 

He did request another beer, as did Shane, and told the waiter they'd order dinner when he returned.

 

"Stop that," Shane said as soon as the waiter left.

 

Puzzled, Colin said, "Stop what?"

 

"The whole time I was talking with him you were watching me like a hawk, like you were afraid I'd slip him my room key, or phone number, if you looked away."

 

"I wasn't!" Colin protested.

 

"No?" Shane shot him a look of disbelief. "I'm here with you because I want to be, Colin. I'm not interested in anyone else. I'm not looking for someone else." He took Colin's hand. "You're the only man who matters to me, whether you believe it or not."

 

"I want to," Colin replied, his gaze on Shane's face. What he read in Shane's expression—naked hope that Colin would trust him—had him saying, "I do believe you. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do." He gave Shane's hand a tight squeeze, and then smiled. "By the way, you misread what I was thinking."

 

"Oh? How?"

 

"I was wishing I was able to talk to people as easily as you. If I even think about doing it, I freeze up."

 

Shane nodded. "Because you're a loner. I get that. You need to relax. No one's going to bite your head off of you say more than two words. Hell, you do fine when you're talking to people at an opening at the gallery. I've seen you carry on real conversations with them."

 

"I guess, but that's business."

 

"So? It means you've got it in you. You need to…like I said, relax." Shane grinned. "Pretend you're me."

 

"Uh-huh. I'm not an actor."

 

"Everyone is, on some level. When you praise the paintings of an artist during his opening show at the gallery because you don't want to hurt his feelings, even though you think they're dreck, you're acting. When you tell one of the patrons you really like what she's wearing and she looks like she got the outfit from Ross or Target, you're acting. When you—"

 

Colin interrupted. "That's called lying, not acting."

 

Shane shook his head. "It's making someone feel special or important and convincing them it's the truth."