Page 116 of Sweet T

Tucker looked at his watch, then his eyes lifted to Shelly, hopeful.

“Scoot!” She gave sweeping gestures with both hands. “If you leave now, you can still catch most of his scenes. We’ll close down and see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t have to tell him again. Tucker grabbed his keys and was out the back door.

When he got to the Black Sheep, he went up the steps and opened the door quietly. The lobby was dark, the doors to the auditorium open, the play in progress just twenty feet farther. He went through the curtained opening, planning to just stand there and watch from the aisle. He was startled by Lance, who was doing the same. Tucker reached for his wallet and Lance waved dismissively, smiling and pointing to the stage.

Tucker couldn’t have timed it better. Evan had just entered for his first scene.

During intermission, Lance teased Tucker into helping him with refreshments. “It’s the cost of letting you see the play for free, you know.”

“I don’t mind paying.”

“Nope. It’s your boyfriend’s last show. Besides, I could use your big handsome help. Full house again.”

So, Tucker removed bottled waters and soft drink cans from a cooler of ice behind the lobby counter, handing them to Lance, who dispersed them among the crowd.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Tucker looked up from behind the lobby counter. It was Brody, drinks in hand. Chuck was coming up behind him.

“Slow night,” Tucker said. “Boss-lady let me off early.”

“Good for you, coming to support Evan.”

“How do y’all like the show?”

Chuck’s eyes grew wide. “It’s a little scarier than I expected. I’m not sure I’ll ever look at Cassie the same again. And Evan, well... he’s something else.”

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed. “He is.”

* * *

When they got home, they waved to Titus and Pedro seated on the swimming pool steps.

“We’re going to change. We’ll be right out.”

“No hurry. It’s a beautiful night.”

When they returned, Tucker swung by a nearby table first to pour them each one of Pedro’s infamous margaritas.

“Just bring the pitcher over here, son,” Titus said. “Everything’s so dolled-up, I feel safer in the water. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Evan hopped down into the water, swam out a way, then joined them at the step. “God, this water feels so good. It’s perfect.”

“The night is perfect,” Titus said, his broad body reclined on one half of the submerged staircase, arms open on the pool’s ledge.

“How did the show go?” Pedro asked.

“Perfect,” Tucker said, chuckling. He set the pitcher down on the decking and pouring himself and Evan a drink.

“Good to hear,” Pedro said. “It was a wonderful show, Evan–you, Sebastian, Cassie, everyone. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I keep getting sidetracked.”

“Well, I can’t imagine why,” Evan said, arms wide, turning in a slow circle. “It’s not like you’ve been busy or anything.”

The gesture alone punctuated the jest. In every direction was wedding-related decor. Behind them, the pool decking and yard were cleared for dancing. Just beyond was the stage with the Hootie and the Jets drum set, guitars and microphones in stands. There were twenty round tables surrounding the pool, on and off the decking, all dressed in white linen and each with bouquets of hydrangeas. On the opposite pool end was a long table of chafing dishes where servers would dish out Chuck’s beef brisket and other catered delicacies from the Holy Smoke. Two larger round tables, off from the serving table’s end, would host not only Brody’s hand-crafted six-tier wedding cake, but two grooms cakes he made as well.

And that was just in their vicinity.

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