Neil was in the scene shop Thursday morning—consulting with Len, the head of the paint crew, about the main backdrop for the upcoming show—when his phone vibrated. There was a text from Kev asking, When do you break for lunch?
He replied, With luck, in an hour.
Good, I’ll pick you up, Kev texted back.
Len was grinning when Neil ended the call. “From the look on your face, that was someone special.”
“Very special,” Neil replied. “My mother.”
“Uh-huh. Believe that and you’ve got a bridge to sell me.”
“Well, now that you mention it…” Neil laughed then told him a bit about Kev.
“He sounds like a nice guy.”
“I think so. Okay, back to what we were talking about.”
Kev was waiting in the parking lot behind the theater when Neil finally got away—ten minutes later than promised. As soon as
