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“You’ve seen them?” Dorian asked, sounding uncomfortable.
“Yes, I thought it prudent to see what might be the current social media vibe if we are going to get a communication team in place. But I was in the pub with Dara, Val and Chris, when some of the nonsense first appeared and Chris saw them on a site he follows.”
“Jesus.”
There was a soft knock and Chris peered around the door. “Speak of the devil,” Alex said with a chuckle.
Chris’s brow crumpled. “What?”
“Never mind. How can I help? Archive stuff?”
“Actually, it’s Dorian I’m after. Ben thought he might be with you. I wondered if I could have a minute.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and instead dug a USB drive out of his jean’s pocket. “This holds a copy ofHidden for the Duke.”
“The play based on the 1st Earl of Crofton?” Dorian asked, taking the device.
“Well, since you’ve time on your hands, I thought you’d like to read it. And, y’know, you did say you were thinking of theatre in the future.”
Dorian stared at the little red drive. “You’d like me to be in it?”
“We’re a bit far from that yet, but you never know… anyway, gotta dash.”
Alex watched Dorian continue to stare at the device, Chris shooting away before he could get a negative reply.
“It’s not going to explode,” Alex said, which seemed to bring Dorian back to reality.
“Do you know the plot?”
“Only vaguely.”
“A duke marries an actor masquerading as his twin sister. It’s what they think the 1st Earl of Crofton did.”
“Ah, there was a documentary about the hall. I meant to watch it before my interview but I never got to. I’ll see if I can find it online somewhere.” Alex smiled. “Maybe you could play the duke?”
Dorian bit his lip. “Maybe I could.”
CHAPTER13
Ashley couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a real effort for a date. He’d dressed up for Davy’s christening but in general, he’d been living in jeans, T-shirts and sweats. Ben had somehow managed to navigate parenthood without dropping his standards, but then Davy had less of a propensity to spew, piss and shit over his other father. His mum had warned him that romance would take a backseat once the baby arrived, but he hadn’t realised it would fall so far down the pecking order. Him and Ben had become creative with quickies here and there when Davy napped but he was so tired he wasn’t often in the mood and he was missing the intimacy of being able to spend real quality time with Ben.
They’d decided to make the most of tonight, complete with a bit of role-play that this was a chance meeting of strangers. Wedding rings were off, and they would flirt shamelessly in the bar, go on for dinner and back to the hotel. There should have been no reason for him to be nervous, he was meeting Ben and was on to a sure thing, but as he entered the bar he felt like a clueless teenager.
The bar was the swanky kind Ben liked, the sort of place where there was no draught lager and a bottle of wine started at fifty pounds for something closer to vinegar than merlot.
With the joint credit card and the wealth of the Crofton estate behind him, Ashley took a seat at the bar. Ben had a table reserved for when he got here, but for now Ashley would enjoy his drink in peace, or that was the plan. He’d ordered a bottle of what he thought was Japanese lager and checked his phone to make sure there’d been no messages. Catlin had sent a picture of Davy asleep, and he smiled knowing he was with his doting aunty. He was halfway through the bottle when someone sat next to him. His first thoughts were it had to be Ben, since he’d sat down without invitation, but the guy dressed in what looked like an expensive suit was not his husband. He was attractive, rocking a scruffy beard that was all the fashion at the moment, and had smouldering dark eyes and a physique that would take time in the gym to maintain.
“I saw you on your own so I wondered if you’d mind the company? I hate to see a good-looking bloke drinking on their own.”
It had been a long time since someone had tried to chat him up in a bar. Especially when it wasn’t a gay bar, as most men wouldn’t risk their chances even if it was a more liberal-leaning establishment, maybe this guy’s gaydar was particularly well-tuned. He had to admit it was doing his ego the world of good. “You can, but to manage your expectations, I’m not interested.”
“The night is young, we’re both here on our own, so why ever not? I’m Quinn.”
The cocky manner might work on some but it wasn’t the way to impress Ashley. “Because I said no, and you should respect that.”
“No? Oh come on, can’t you give me a chance? I’m house-trained.”
“I just want a quiet beer. You’d be better off finding another mark.”
