Page 60 of His Leading Man

“Last night out here in the middle of nowhere,” Drew said, swinging their linked hands. “Think it’ll be weird to be back home?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know.” Then he snorted. “I’m not sure I want to go back to my apartment. There’s no room for both of us in there.”

“Well, you don’t have to go back.” Drew waited until Steve looked at him. “I mean, there’ll be more scrutiny. Paps in the street, probably. I can almost guarantee someone will recognize you. And my apartment is nowhere near as nice as your mom’s house, but I—”

“Are you inviting me to an extended sleepover?” Steve interrupted before Drew could babble on.

Drew nodded emphatically, relief etched on his features. “Yes.”

“I accept.”

WHENSteve returned from dropping his suitcase in the bedroom, Drew was in the kitchen, standing at the white Corian island that ran the length of the room. “Jorj must’ve brought up the mail,” he said when Steve walked in, and he shook his head. “Do you believe that? People are actually still sending snail mail.” He picked up a cream envelope of heavy-looking paper with embossed edges. The one beneath it was a rich brown, the paper equally thick, the seams bulging.

“What do you think…?” he murmured and slit the first one open with his thumb. He pulled out a scrap of paper that was incongruous with the quality of the envelope.

“Dear Drew, Sarah and Eric are driving us all up the wall because they can’t decide on wedding invitations. You’re the tiebreaker. Love, Brit. PS. The brown is the obvious choice.”

Drew snorted and handed Steve the brown envelope to open. “She must’ve express mailed them. What do you think?”

“Well, I don’t know aboutobvious.” Steve flipped the envelope over.Mr. Drew Beaumont and Guest, 1 W Century Dr., Los Angeles, California, 90067.Blue satiny paper lined the inside. Steve pulled out a heavy cream cardstock invitation tied with a matching blue ribbon. “You are cordially invited, et cetera.” He passed it to Drew.

Drew traded it for the one that came from the white envelope; this one was plainer, with a little embossed cherubic bride and groom leaning over to kiss at the top.

“Brown,” they said at the same time.

“No question.” Drew waved the embossed invitation. “Honestly, who thought this was a good idea? It looks like…. God, your mom has taste. She probably didn’t have those ugly little ceramic doll statue things mine collected—”

“Precious Moments?” Steve guessed after a second.

“Yes!” Drew laughed. “Wait, how do you know what they’re called?”

“Lorna collects them.”

For a second Drew just blinked at him. “Lorna. As in LornaProut? Who you met at the aquarium dinner?”

Steve cleared his throat, his cheeks and neck warming in embarrassment. “As in Lorna Prout,” he confirmed, “my fairy godmother.”

“Your fairy—?”

He shrugged. “Mom and Dad are—were—atheists, but they believed in Hollywood magic just fine.” After all, they’d met on a movie set. “And Dad and Lorna were old friends. We used to go visit her place in Jackson Hole to go skiing. Kitsch everywhere.”

“So she knew who you were the whole time and just played along?” Drew shook his head, laughing incredulously. “That little minx.”

“In fairness, you did introduce me as though there were no possible way we could’ve already met.”

Shaking his head, Drew turned his attention back to the invitations. “That’s enough work for tonight. I’ll let them know tomorrow.” He looked up expectantly. “You want your name as Stone or Sopol on the invitation?”

Steve could have pulled a complete Hollywood cliché and melted into his arms. Instead he simply smiled, full of as much affection as he could ever remember feeling. “It doesn’t matter as long as it’s on the same envelope as yours.”

Drew gave him a sappy grin. “And you’re free in April?”

Steve pecked him on the lips. “I’ll mark my calendar.”

MONDAYmorning found them drinking coffee in front of the Aquarium of the Pacific—or, as it would appear in the movie, “Mandalay Bay Aquarium.” It would take some doing—the Mandalay Bay Aquarium had a distinctive look—but Editing assured Drew that with a little Hollywood magic, they could make it work. Carol was inside testing the lighting and color and whatever else DPs did, by all accounts having the time of her life figuring out how she was going to transform the place into something so iconic. Too bad they only had the place for a few hours.

“It’s not quite the same when you have to work,” Drew sighed, sagging into Steve on the bench—apparently heedless of the smattering of onlookers gathered beyond the barrier keeping unauthorized personnel at bay.

“If you’re very good, I’ll take you to see the jellyfish later.” Steve rolled his shoulder until Drew settled into a more comfortable position.

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