I sighed and typed, Don’t think I’ll have time. Wish I did.
I can drop something off for you. Let me know.
My mouth watered at the very thought of something other than concession-stand crap. That, and if it gave me a chance to see him, even for just a few minutes…
I quickly sent back, I’ll owe you big time if you do.
We made plans for him to come by around seven thirty, and I went to work on the projector. After a great deal of swearing and mentally tallying how much creative budgeting it would take to just buy a new projector, it was as close to fixed as it would ever be.
Gritting my teeth and murmuring prayers to a few different deities, I put my finger on the power switch. Feeling a little like Dr. Frankenstein, hoping the thing would come to life this time, I flipped the switch. To my relief and surprise, it did come to life, clicking and whirring like it was supposed to.
I almost laughed aloud. “No way. No fucking way.”
“Is it working?” Max looked up from the other side of the room.
“I think.” I paused, squinting through the window to see how the picture looked on the screen in the empty auditorium. “I’ll be damned, I think it is.”
“The question is,” Max said, “will it keep working?”
“Shh, don’t jinx it. It’s working now. With any luck, it’ll keep working and we can use it tomorrow.” I watched the screen for a moment longer. “Run it through this film, then play it again. Let me know if it craps out again.”
Max nodded. “Will do.”
With the projector running, I left the room and headed down to the office to let Dylan know that the beast was alive.
“Hey, the-” I paused when he looked up from rifling through some papers. Bank deposits and till summaries, by the looks of it. “What’s all that?”
He shook his head and closed the folder. “Nothing, just crunching some numbers. What’s up?”
I eyed the folder-Dylan didn’t usually bother with the tedium of numbers, particularly when we were this busy-but didn’t question him. “The projector’s working.”
“Oh, thank Christ,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Question is-”
“I have no idea if it’ll keep working.”
He scowled. “It’s definitely time for a new one.”
“It was time for a new one when Reagan was still in office,” I said, chuckling as I dropped into my chair and put my feet up. “We’ll have to figure out the budget, but I think we’ll manage.”
“I hope you’re right,” he grumbled. He shot the folder on his desk a dirty look, then looked at the clock and stood. “Two back-to-back intermissions coming up. Let’s go.”
I groaned and put my feet down. No rest for the wicked, I thought as I followed him out of the office.
As the evening wore on, the swill at the concession stand smelled better and better. Around seven, I realized I hadn’t even remembered to eat lunch.
Then, like an angel of culinary mercy, Nathan showed up with takeout from one of the nearby Thai restaurants.
“Oh, my God, I could kiss you right now,” I said as he walked in with the plastic bag and a couple of drinks.
He grinned. “Please do.”
I gestured for him to follow me. “Let’s go someplace where I don’t have to stay quite so professional, and I will.”
As soon as we were in my office, I made good on my promise. I intended to kiss him only briefly, just enough to flirt a little and maybe wind him up, but then I needed to taste him just a second longer. Then I didn’t want his fingers out of my hair. When I caught myself seriously considering finding a quiet, hidden place in the theatre, I forced myself to pull away. I knew a few such quiet, hidden places, and I couldn’t afford to give in to that temptation on a busy night like this.
Come by on a slow night, Nathan, and I’ll give you the real tour ofThe Epidauran.
“So I assume you like Thai food?” he said, nodding toward the food on the desk.
I snorted. “What kind of cretin do you take me for? I love Thai food.”
He laughed. “Good, because-”
The door flew open. Max leaned in and started to speak, then looked at Nathan. Confusion brought his eyebrows together, then enlightenment raised them. He cleared his throat.
“Hey, uh, boss,” he said. “Need your help in the projector room.”
I groaned. “Tell me it didn’t break again.”
He nodded. “Sorry.”
“Fuck.” I rolled my eyes. To Nathan, I said, “Come on, guess we’re eating in the projector room.”
“Anywhere’s good for me,” he said with a shrug.
“Hey, I thought we weren’t allowed to have food or guests up there,” Max said as Nathan and I followed him out of the office.
“You’re not,” I said. “But when you run the place, you can have anyone and anything you want up there.” He looked over his shoulder and laughed, but I didn’t miss the uncomfortable glance he cast at Nathan. Yes, Max, I’m fucking him. Deal with it. Then it occurred to me that it was a good thing he hadn’t come into the office a few seconds earlier. Though their discomfort with my sexuality annoyed me, this was a business, and I had to stay professional. I thought better of sneaking off with Nathan to a quiet, hidden corner in the future.
Upstairs, I gave the projector the evil eye and decided it would be best to eat something before I tackled its latest issues. Otherwise, judicious application of percussive maintenance might be the least of its problems.
Max left to help in the box office for a little while, so Nathan and I had the room to ourselves for a few minutes. I sat back in a chair and put my feet up while he leaned against the window.
“My God, you’re a life saver,” I said after we’d eaten in silence for a while. “The crap at the concession stand was even starting to sound good.”
He laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
He looked out a window into one of the auditoriums, which hummed with the voices of a shifting crowd. The sound slowly diminished in volume, so the showing must have just ended.
“Wow, you guys really are slammed today,” Nathan said.
I laughed. “Did you think I was lying?” I glanced up at him, and the somewhat-sheepish look on his face made my stomach drop. “Nathan, you-”
“I know,” he said, nodding and putting a hand up. “We’ve talked about this.”
I tapped the side of the Styrofoam carton with a chopstick, trying not to let my irritation seep into my voice. “And yet you still don’t trust me.”
He exhaled, looking anywhere but at me. “I told you, these things take time.”
I think you’ve had enough time to figure out I’m not Jake. I wanted to say it, but bit it back instead. Getting caught by an employee in the middle of a heated lover’s spat would be almost as awkward and uncomfortable as being caught in the middle of a kiss. That, and I just didn’t have it in me to argue with him tonight.
I let out a breath and looked at him, gesturing toward the window with my chopsticks. “Well, you’ve seen it for yourself. Busy day here.”
“Yeah, I see that.” He picked at his food for a moment. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I swear to God, I’m not going out of my way to find reasons not to trust you.”
“Well, it’s not like Jake has helped,” I said. “Even since we both split with him.”
“Good point.” He laughed bitterly. Meeting my eyes, he said, “I’m sorry, though. I was out of line.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He sipped his drink and pushed himself off the windowsill. “Well, I should probably let you get back to work. You still coming by tonight?”
I smiled. “You still want me to?”
He grinned and kissed me. “After that kiss in your office, you’re damn right I do.”
Chapter Thirty