The Artist and the Actor – 37

 

 

"I got you a ticket for the show tonight." Shane took out his wallet, handing the ticket to Colin. "It's about time you saw, again, what I do for a living. It's been a long time since your have."

 

"I, well…all right, I guess." Colin looked down at what he was wearing. "I'll have to stop at home after I drop you off and change."

 

Shane smiled in relief, wisecracking, "You don't need to change. I like you just the way you are."

 

"Smartass," Colin muttered. He checked the ticket. "Okay, I should be able to make it back in time. Getting you there, though... It is rush hour."

 

"Then let's get a move on."

 

They race-walked from the mall exit to where Colin had parked the car two blocks away. From there, it was a case of making it down First Avenue, with more than a few swearwords at other drivers. When they reached the Performing Arts Complex, Shane had Colin pull up on Champa Street so that he could go in through the stage door of the theater. Before he closed the car door, he leaned in to say, "You'd better not stand me up."

 

Colin pressed one hand to his chest. "I won't, but where will me meet afterward?"

 

"In the lobby. It'll take me a while to get out of costume, so bring a book." Shane grinned, closed the door, and disappeared inside the building.

 

As he made his way to the dressing rooms, Olivia joined him.

 

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," she said, linking her arm with his. "Things are working out with you and, umm, Colin?"

 

"Yes, Colin, and I think so. At least we're talking without arguing. We've eaten out, twice, and went to a movie this afternoon, and tonight he's coming to see the show." Shane crossed his fingers, hoping Colin wouldn't get home, take one look at whatever painting he was working on, and forget everything except getting back to it.

 

"Great! When do I get to meet him?"

 

"Well…"

 

She grinned. "It's okay. When you're ready, and he is, will be just fine. Remember, we leave in less than four weeks so…"

 

"Got it." They split up when they reached the chorus dressing rooms. Convincing him to meet some of my friends in the company may be a no-go, knowing him. But who knows? For sure, he didn't.

 

* * * *

 

Although he didn't know it, Shane had been partly right in his assessment of what would happen when Colin arrived at the house. The first thing he did was go up to the studio. He stared at the painting he'd had to abandon earlier in the day, picked up a brush, and uncovered the palette. Then, with a muttered, "Nope, not doing it," he set the brush down, turned, and went to his bedroom to change for the second time in less than half a day.

 

When he finished, he was wearing slacks and a shirt that he usually reserved for an opening at the gallery. "Suit jacket or vest?" He debated for less than a minute before selecting the navy jacket that went with the slacks. "The things I do for him," he grumbled. "Now I have to wear a tie. Shane, you owe me big." He realized he was reversing what he'd promised his ex, as an apology for being late to pick him up for lunch. "I guess we're even?" That amused him.

 

Once he'd checked himself in the mirror and ran a comb through his hair, he put his wallet and phone in his pockets, grabbed his keys from the dresser, and, when he got downstairs, picked up the paperback he'd been reading, stuffing it in a pocket, too. A few minutes later he was on his way downtown to the theater.