Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
GREG
Tony and I joined in the enthusiastic applause at the end of the musical.
I found myself watching him and enjoying the sight of his broad smile.
I mentally shook myself. Knock it off. You’re just friends.
I had to keep telling myself that, even though Tony seemed to accept our arrangement.
He hadn’t even pressed me for sex, although I really wanted him to.
When the house lights came on, Tony asked, “Where are you supposed to meet the musical director?”
I pointed toward the front of the small stage. “On the right side. He said he’d be out about fifteen minutes after the end of the show.”
“So we have a little time,” he said. He watched the rest of the audience file toward the exits. “It’s been a minute since I’ve gone to a show. It’s kind of a shame since I live here.”
I shrugged. “You have a business to run. So do I. And show tickets aren’t cheap.”
“True on all counts,” he replied with a smile. “I didn’t know you ran your own business though. What do you do?”
I felt myself flush. “Oh. I’m a web designer and graphic artist.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “After I left school and…well, everything else happened, I went to the community college to get some marketable skills. I found out my creativity didn’t end with the keyboard.”
“At least not the musical kind,” he quipped.
That surprised a laugh out of me. “True.”
“You’ll have to show me some of your work sometime,” Tony said.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe. I’m sure your brother is far more talented.”
He shook his head. “Michael is no artist. He can build a website, but we have someone else do the graphics because he sucks at it.”
“Ah, okay.”
We fell into a comfortable silence while we waited for the rest of the audience to leave the theater. Once there was a clear opening near the stage, we made our way down the aisle to the right-hand side.
When we saw a middle-aged Black man walk onto the stage, Tony leaned over and asked, “You want me to wait for you outside to give you some privacy?”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I don’t think this will take long.”
“Okay,” he replied.
I couldn’t say why I wanted Tony there, but it felt right for him to be near me for this. I walked forward and extended my hand. “Mr. Miles?”
The other man smiled and shook my hand. “Call me David. You must be Greg. Lacey had a lot of good things to say about you.”
My cheeks heated. “That’s very kind of her.”
“How long have you been working at City Lights?” he asked.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Saturday was my first night.”
His brows rose. “You got Saturday night right out of the box? You must be good.” He gestured toward the back of the stage, where a studio upright piano sat next to a rather extensive drum set. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?”
I blew out a soft breath and nodded. I’d prepared for this possibility. I sat on the bench and opened the fallboard. “Do you want me to play something from this show?”
His smile widened to a grin. “Absolutely.”
I rested my fingers on the keys for a moment, remembering what I had practiced. Then I played the show’s opening number from beginning to end. When I finished, I looked over at David. He was still smiling. “That was fantastic. How about you play the ballad from the second act?”
I nodded. “You got it.” Lucky for me, I’d run through the whole show several times over the weekend and on Monday.
After I finished a third song, David put his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s exchange contact information, and I’ll send you a contract. You are in the union, right?”
“Yes. I’ve been working all over the City for a while, even when I lived in Jersey.”
He raised a brow. “Please tell me you live in New York now.”
I chuckled. “Yes. I’m up on 125th Street.”
“Excellent.”
I handed him my business card and he gave me his. “Thank you for this opportunity, David.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I look forward to working with you.”
I walked back over to Tony, who was now sitting in the front row. He rose and gave me a big hug. “You were amazing.”
Wow. It felt so good to be held like that. It reminded me how touch-starved I was. “Thanks, Tony.”
He took a step back. “I’m kinda surprised he auditioned you on the spot. I figured he’d want a sample of your music or something.”
“It could have gone either way,” I said. “I brought a flash drive of my playing, just in case.”
“I think this calls for a celebration,” Tony said with a smile. “Let’s grab a drink at the pub up the street.”
I was of two minds. I didn’t want him to think this was a date. But then again, friends celebrated each other’s victories. Ugh. I needed to stop overthinking this. “Sure,” I finally answered. “That sounds good.”
The walk to the pub was downright cold. March was unforgiving when it struggled to keep its grip on winter.
I looked forward to the milder spring days to come.
I welcomed the heat of the pub that blasted us when we entered.
Since it was a Tuesday night, it wasn’t that crowded.
We got seats at the bar and ordered our drinks.
When our beers arrived, we clinked glasses, and Tony said, “Congratulations on a successful audition.”
I couldn’t help the proud smile that curved my lips. “Thanks. It feels good to finally take a real step toward my goal.”
“Do substitute jobs often lead to full-time positions?” Tony asked.
I waggled my hand. “Sometimes. But it would have to be because the other musician decided to leave or was fired for some reason, which rarely happens. It might take years before someone offers me a show. What might happen is I get a regular sub gig with the same show in order to give the main pianist a break.”
He took another sip of his beer and grinned. “You know what this means?”
“What’s that?” I asked warily.
“It means I get to come see you in a show and bring all my friends and family too.”
I groaned. “That’ll fill up half the audience.”
“You’ll certainly know we’re there.”
“No doubt.” What I didn’t say was that I’d know Tony was there regardless of how many people he brought with him. I’d been keenly aware of him since the first time I’d seen him in Reilly’s Piano Bar almost two years ago.
I finished the rest of my beer and slid the glass toward the back edge of the bar. “I guess I should head home. I have work to finish that I blew off when I was practicing over the weekend.”
Tony set his glass down. “I have a better idea. How about we head to my place to finish off this celebration right?”
The gleam in his eye and the low gravely tone of his voice gave me a pretty good idea of what he considered a proper celebration. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”
He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before his lips traveled to below my ear. “I want to take you to my place, strip you down, eat you out, and fuck you until you don’t know your own name.”
My breath stuttered and my cock filled. I swallowed hard and croaked out, “Yes. That. I would really like that.” I raised my hand to catch the bartender’s eye. “Check, please.”