The assistant director, the stocky woman with the cat eyeglasses and the clipboard—her name was Dolores, but Dan Fowler called her Hey!—approached Matt immediately, holding out a plastic-wrapped cup with a screw-on lid.
Maggie’s stomach took a downward plunge.
“Time for you-know-what,” Dolores said, tossing the cup to him. “The rules are I’ve got to walk you into the little boys’ room.”
Matt was serene. He just laughed. But when he glanced at Maggie, she knew this bothered him more than he was letting on.
She watched him walk away, wondering how it would feel to be haunted by a bad reputation. It didn’t seem fair that people didn’t notice how much he’d changed.
“Stanton!” Maggie turned to see Dan Fowler waving to her from up on the stage. “Come here for a sec.”
“What’s up?”
He was sitting on one of the chairs that served as makeshift scenery, and he motioned for her to sit, too. When she did, he crossed his arms and looked at her.
And she panicked. He was having second thoughts about casting her. He didn’t think she was going to be able to do those kisses, and he was figuring out the best way to break the news….
“How long have you been seeing Stone?” he finally asked.
She blinked. Stone. Matt. “I’m not… I mean, we’re not dating or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
“You always show up with him. And leave with him.”
What was this leading up to? Maggie didn’t have a clue. “We’re housemates,” she told him.
“You live together.”
“Yeah, but as friends,” she clarified. “We went to high school together.”
“And you’re not involved with him?”
“No.” Why was he asking this?
Dan smiled, his beard parting to expose white, even teeth. His eyes were warm, the dark brown flecked with gold. When he wasn’t frowning, he was actually quite handsome.
“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he said.
They ran through the opening number, even daring to hoist Maggie onto the shoulders of the men’s chorus. It was awkward and she giggled, but they were on their way.
Then the dread kiss approached. Matt gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they began the sequence.
He pulled her to him, and instead of kissing her immediately, he gazed down into her eyes for several beats. When his lips finally met hers, Maggie melted. She forced herself to keep the embrace open, only putting her arms around his neck at the very end of the musical phrase.
When he pulled back, he didn’t immediately move away. He looked into her eyes again, and smiled.
“Perfect!” Dan shouted. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”
Maggie finished up the song on a cloud of relief and desire.
Al, the choreographer, was nearly as much of a slave driver as Dan Fowler. Sweat dripped off Maggie’s face as they stopped for a break.
“One of these days,” she swore as she threw herself onto the stage next to Matt, “I’m going to be in a show that rehearses in a theater that has air-conditioning.”
The dance they were doing was a blend of athletic street dancing and graceful jazz, with several steps reminiscent of the old dirty dancing craze thrown in. Most of the steps had no body contact—instead they had to maintain eye contact. Maggie found that almost more dizzying than when Matt actually touched her.
Almost.
She rolled onto her stomach and put her chin in her hand. “Matt? How well do you know Dan Fowler?”
He turned his head to look at her. “I don’t know. Well enough. I know he’s a good director—he gets the job done, and his end result is better than average. Why?”
She shrugged.
“Why?” Matt asked again, his eyes narrowing. “What aren’t you telling me?”
God, he knew her too well. “Nothing,” she said.
“Tell me.”
She laughed. “No.”
“Tell me.” He rolled onto his side, head propped up on one hand. She could tell from looking at him that he wasn’t going to let this slide.
And okay. Maybe she could actually get a rise out of him. She glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot and Matt leaned in closer as she said, “Dan asked me out.”
He laughed. “You’re kidding.”
Was that jealousy in his eyes, or just amusement? “No,” she said. “He asked me to have dinner with him.”
“Dinner with Dan,” Matt mused. “Do you think he takes the time to eat anything but fast food?”
No, it definitely wasn’t jealousy. Was it possible he really didn’t care if she had dinner with Dan…? “I’ll let you know,” she said, even though she’d turned down the director.
Matt froze. “You’re going?”
Okay. That was a slightly better reaction.
“Actually—” she said, but he cut her off.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to… He’s great. He’s perfect for you, Mags. He’s honest and solid and…”
“Oh,” Maggie said.
“Break’s over,” Dan announced.
Matt gave her a smile as he pulled himself to his feet.
She’d been hoping for jealousy—not for Matt to give her and Dan his blessing.