Chapter 27
Monty
Despite the fact that Hilliard had assured him there was no rush, taking care of the house had been surprisingly easy. It was just as well as Monty was ready to hurry up and start the rest of his life with his best friend.
He was able to keep his favorite clothes—they only had to buy one new wardrobe to store them all—and sell the rest. They’d found places for the paintings he’d wanted to keep in Hilliard’s house—their house.
And he even managed to wheedle Hilliard into letting him keep the roadster (with a little boost from his magic, of course).
Hilliard wandered through the house and picked out the sofa cushions and glassware that he liked best. They packed up all the other odds and ends that Monty couldn’t bear to be parted with.
The rest was sold.
It happened so quickly that it felt like no time at all.
While they waited to be assigned their next projects, they worked together to make the house a home for two.
They cleared space on the walls for his paintings.
They got rid of the bed in the spare bedroom to make room for Monty’s extra wardrobe.
They added the sofa pillows to sofas and rearranged the glassware for the gold-rimmed ones that Hilliard had fancied.
Monty added the crystal soda siphon and his favorite cocktail shaker to the bar cart.
The fancy record player was given prime placement in the living room, along with Monty’s favorite records.
When all was said and done, Hilliard put a record on while Monty mixed them two Horse’s Necks (both a little heavy on the ginger ale), and they settled together on the sofa with Henrietta napping on their feet.
“Welcome home, sugar,” Hilliard said, kissing him.
“It’s good to be home,” Monty replied with a grin.
* * *
About a month later, they went to the premiere of When I’m In Your Arms together. Monty got ready in the second bedroom, taking three times longer than usual as he tried on multiple suits.
Hilliard leaned against the doorjamb and watched him fiddle with his cufflinks. “Montgomery,” he said gently, “you look fine. Relax.”
Monty frowned at him over his shoulder before returning to his task.
Hilliard sighed and stepped into the room. He placed his hands on Monty’s hips and spun him around. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Monty didn’t look up from his cufflinks even though they were already on. “I know.”
He felt Hilliard rub circles with his thumbs over Monty’s hips. “We made a good picture together. You didn’t need this one.”
That remained to be seen, although Monty didn’t say as much.
“There’ll be other pictures,” Hilliard continued. “You did what the studio asked of you. I’m sure they’ll give you more chances to shine.”
“I don’t need it anyway,” Monty said, with false cheer.
Hilliard cupped his cheeks and Monty met his gaze. “But you want it, the fame and the recognition. I don’t blame you. Most people who get into this business want that. If I thought that was wrong, I wouldn’t be here. And if anyone has a good chance of succeeding, it’s you.”
Monty smiled a little. “Because of my rakish good looks and magical charm?”
“No, because of your stubbornness.”
Monty huffed.
“And your talent. When our picture comes out, we’ll be able to show the world what you’re capable of.”
Monty searched his friend’s eyes, knowing that he’d find exactly what he was looking for: honesty and affection. He leaned forward and kissed him. Hilliard’s hands shifted from Monty’s cheeks to his hair as the kiss deepened.
After they broke off, Monty rested his forehead against Hilliard’s. “Maybe we can just skip the premiere,” he whispered.
“Nothing doing, sweetheart. You owe it to yourself, if nothing else.”
“And Jesse and Cal are our friends.”
“And that.”
Monty groaned but nodded. Then Hilliard took his hand and led him to the Cadillac.
They got to the theater early enough to deal with the reporters and the fans.
They stayed close to each other as they made their way up the red carpet.
They did the same as they got into the lobby and greeted their fellow studio employees.
When Cal and Jesse arrived, they congratulated them on the film’s release and made plans for another dinner together.
Seeing the excitement in Jesse’s expression as he gazed around the lobby, as well as the gentle way Cal’s presence seemed to soothe his nerves, made Monty’s chest feel warm with fondness.
Jesse needed to experience this with Cal. Maybe that was worth losing the role.
When they got to their seats and the lights dimmed, Hilliard took his hand and clasped it in his lap. Monty took a deep breath as the orchestral arrangement of the title song played. And he watched the movie that he’d been so certain would be his.
It was a great picture. Of course it was. He’d known it would be. That’s why he’d fought so hard to be in it.
But he couldn’t deny that the chemistry between Cal and Jesse was electric. The looks they shared seemed to sizzle through the screen. The kisses made Monty feel as though he was watching something intimate.
And Cal’s role—well, Monty had to admit that the role seemed to be made for the man.
Cal played the suave and cool dance teacher perfectly.
As Monty watched with an assessing eye, he could recognize the lines that would have been his favorite, and the scenes he would have done differently.
But he also started to feel a niggling sensation that the role in Together on Parade had been a lot more fun than this one would have been.
Cal’s character was so rigid and elegant.
Monty’s character was silly and funny. He thought of all the times Director Chen had accepted their first take and informed him that he’d performed the scene perfectly.
Would that have happened in this one? He’d worked with Director King before.
They were challenging and demanding but in such a different way from Chen.
As the film began to come to a close, Monty started to feel a new and unfamiliar emotion: he was excited to see his film, their film, the next time they were at the theater.
He wanted to see what Director Chen had seen.
He wanted to see what Ezra had apparently predicted all along—that the other role was a better fit for him.
When the lights came up, Hilliard turned to him. “Well?”
“It was a great picture.”
“It was,” Hilliard said, his tone cautious. “I imagine you knew it would be.”
“I think they were perfectly cast.”
Hilliard’s smile was slow and broad. “Indeed they were.”
They got up and congratulated the stars again before making their way to the Cadillac and home.
They were silent for most of the drive. Monty suspected Hilliard was giving him the time and space to process his emotions. Finally, he broke the silence and said, “I think I owe Ezra a ‘you were right.’”
Hilliard chuckled. “Perhaps. Although I suspect they already know it.”
“I’m sure they do. But it wouldn’t hurt to say it. And I think I might tell them that I particularly liked working with Director Chen, and you.”
Hilliard’s smile broadened. “I’d like that.”
“I still think you should be in a starring role of your own, though.”
“I’m good at the supporting parts.”
“And I was good at the B musicals. There’s room for more, for both of us.”
Hilliard gave him a sidelong glance before returning his gaze to the road. “Oh, I see. Now that you’re satisfied, you’re going to start giving me career advice, are you?”
“Not exactly. But here’s what I was thinking. Wouldn’t it be great if we were in a similar type of picture to the one we did, only with you as the main character and me as the supporting one? I think it could be a lot of fun.”
“We might get type cast if we’re playing too much in the same movies.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Monty said.
“You’re liable to get sick of me. Working together all day and then going home together at night.”
“Never.” Monty slid his hand onto Hilliard’s thigh, careful not to touch him in a way that would distract him from driving. “I’m happiest when I’m with you, Hilliard.”
“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart.”
When they arrived home, Hilliard parked the car and killed the engine. Then he turned to Monty and said, “We’re home.”
Monty didn’t look away from Hilliard’s gaze. “Yes. We’re home.”
Hilliard smiled, cupped Monty’s cheek, and gently kissed him.