Free Encore Encore by Charlie Cochrane Page A

59
    “Oh, get out,” Shawn mocked, playfully. He said his goodbyes to Jeff, then faced Joshua.
    The taller man glanced from him to where Roscoe stood behind him and back, then stuck out his hand. “It was great to see you, Shawn.”
    Shawn took it, not quite comfortable with the idea of a hug even with the apologies made. “Thanks for coming.” Joshua nodded. “Don’t be a stranger at the bar.”
    “I won’t.”
    Joshua swallowed, braved a nod in Roscoe’s direction, then let Nick usher him away.
    “Well.” Roscoe stepped up beside Shawn, his attention on the retreating trio. All around and below them in the valley, various pockets of people milled around, some in costume like Shawn.
    But the crowd was waning. No doubt Roscoe had come to see what was keeping Shawn.
    “Yes. He’s that Joshua.”
    One brow arched as Roscoe regarded him. “Should I have decked him?”
    “Mmmm, that would have been interesting.” He giggled. He did that when he wore skirts. “But no. Evidently, after I told Nick what happened, he tracked Joshua down and had a talk with him. Turned out that he really is harmless.” He met Roscoe’s skeptical stare. “Really. He’s not really good in social situations, and handled it badly. Nick says once he started talking to more of the regulars at the bar, he calmed down and got to know people.
    It’s all good.”
    “Really.”
    “Really.” Shawn stepped into Roscoe’s space, slipping his arms up over the taller man’s shoulders. “But it’s kinda sexy to see you get all protective.”
    Roscoe laughed. “Well, I suppose I should thank Joshua for one thing at least.”

    60 Mykles ~ Much Ado
    “Oh?”
    He slid his palms down Shawn’s sides, pulling him closer as he lowered his head to brush lips with Shawn. “He led you back to me.”
    Shawn thought about that as they shared a leisurely kiss.
    “Yeah. Well. Let’s not go to the extreme again, shall we?” Roscoe nodded. “Agreed.” Another kiss, then he chuckled, eyes twinkling merrily as he stood straight.
    “Hmmm. So, it was all much ado about nothing then?” Shawn groaned, shaking his head. “Oh. That’s bad.” ALL THAT JAZZ
    CHARLIE COCHRANE

    Brighton, January
    “He had it coming. He had it coming.” One of the merry murderesses was strolling along past the door, getting every part of a strident voice properly tuned up for the dress rehearsal. “If you’d have been there, if you’d have seen it…” The song faded as the singer turned one of the corners of the labyrinthine backstage corridor, heading for the communal homicidal dressing room.
    Velma Kelly made a miniscule adjustment to her eyeliner, emphasising her naturally dark blue eyes and creating an effect which was seductive as well as overtly theatrical. Getting the right effect, one which reached to the back row of the circle but didn’t make the people in the front row of the stalls think you were made up with oil paint, was an art in itself. Juliet had the knack and Velma was grateful to have her skills to call on. Juliet had been a dresser and make-up artist for twenty years, having amassed a fund of wisdom and risqué stories. She plied everyone with anecdotes of the great, mediocre and downright useless.
    And she wielded a mean panstick—the company had been lucky to get hold of someone so capable.
    “When you’re good to Mama…” A higher pitched voice went past the dressing room door, slightly croaking and subtly out of tune. Not one of the cast this time. Maybe a stagehand putting on the falsetto, or even the doorman, who was built like the side of a barn and probably sang counter tenor.
    Velma considered her refl ection again. Luscious waves of hair from the black Louise Brooks style wig framed her heart shaped face—it was a decent black wig, to boot, not something that looked like it had come off a dead cat. That sweet face would be vying with the slightly more lantern-jawed features of Roxie Hart for the hearts of the audience in only