His Secret Admirer

Chapter 3-2

Jim was wired when he got home Friday evening. That often happened when he knew he and his crew had done everything they could to create the best costumes possible for a show. Now it all came down to the final rehearsals, when any small problems would have to be dealt with before next Friday’s opening night.

He fed Callie, then fixed his own meal, which he ate while watching the tag end of the news. He tossed the dishes in the sink, promising himself he’d deal with them when he got home, then went to change into good jeans and a turtleneck. Putting his wallet in his pocket, he snagged his keys from where he’d tossed them on the dresser, then took off for a club he frequented on occasion—when the mood hit him to work off some energy with dancing.

The club was in an older part of the city and had been there since before the area had been gentrified. As he walked in, the sound of upbeat music washed over him. He spotted a just vacated stool at the semi-circular bar at the far end of the room, away from the band. He hurried to grab it before someone else did.

“Jimmy. Long time since you’ve been in,” Steve, one of the bartenders, said.

Jim hated being called Jimmy, but Steve was cute, and bare-chested except for a vest, so Jim didn’t protest. “Busy, busy. You know how it goes,” he replied. “Give me a draw, if you would.”

“Coming right up.” Steve was back moments later, setting the glass down on the bar. “Vic was asking about you, maybe a week ago.”

“Is he here tonight?”

“Haven’t seen him, but he could be. Guess you’ll have to wander around and find out for yourself.” Steve winked, then moved down the bar to serve another customer.

Picking up his beer, Jim turned around, resting one elbow on the bar as he scanned the dance floor. He saw several guys he knew, but none who he was in the mood to ask to dance. He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder, smiling when he heard Vic say, “Put that down and let’s see if you still remember how to cut a rug.”

Jim did, and proved as much to Vic. One thing he liked about the man was that he didn’t expect the evening to end with them going home together. They were friends and nothing more. Friends who liked to dance without the ensuing complications.

“Okay, that wore me out,” Jim said when they returned to the bar a while later.

“Wuss,” Vic replied with a grin.

“A wuss who works seven days a week, so shut up.”

“I never did get why you do that,” Vic said.

“I like a roof over my head, and food on the table. Neither job will make me rich, but between them I manage.”

Leaning against the bar, Vic flagged Steve down, then grinned at Jim, “Is that why you have the beard, such as it is? To save on razorblades?” Jim rolled his eyes, then Vic asked, “When does you next show open?”

“Next Friday, so don’t expect to see me in here next week.”

“Well, damn. Guess I’ll have to find a new dance partner.” Vic grinned, then told Steve he wanted a beer, which Steve handed him seconds later.

“I’m sure you’ll find several who will be more than willing,” Jim replied wryly.

“But they won’t be you.” Vic took a drink, the asked, “How’s life treating you, other than being overworked?”

“Not too bad. Remember the thing I told you about, umm, three weeks ago?”

Vic frowned, then nodded. “Someone leaving you love notes at the restaurant?”

“Yeah. Not sure I’d call them that, but anyway, after leaving five of them, apparently she’s give up. There wasn’t one last weekend.”

Vic grinned. “Maybe she finally got the message that you’re not into women.”

“I don’t know how. It’s not like I announce I’m gay to anyone who walks in the place. And do not tell me she can tell by looking. You know that’s not true.”

“Nope. But some of the guys you work with know, you said. If whoever it is finally asked one of them about you…” Vic shrugged.

“Yeah, possible. Whatever the reason, I’m glad it stopped. It was sort of unnerving.”

“No kidding. I’d have freaked after the second or third one.” Vic took a pull on his beer, then said, “Let’s hope that the fact they stopped leaving them doesn’t mean they’re going to try something else, like sending you flowers or candy.”

“Bite your tongue. No. I think she just threw in the towel. Maybe, like you said, because she asked about me and found out I’m gay.” Jim smiled dryly. “That would have put a crimp in her plans.”

“And then some.”