hang there.”
Gray nodded and threaded through the tables to claim a curved booth that could seat at least six. That should do it. He sat facing the door. It didn’t take long. Phillip came through the entrance with Beverly, Tilda, and Merle following. Gray waved. Phillip looked surprised, then smiled and headed in his direction. “You beat us.”
“I had a ride. Sorry. I would have brought you, but I decided to come on the spur of the moment.”
“Hey, glad you did.”
Phillip took one of the two chairs, Beverly the other, and Merle slid into the booth next to Gray, with Tilda beside him.
Gray waggled a finger at the busy waitress. “I would have ordered, but I wasn’t sure what everyone wants.”
Merle grinned. Really cute guy. No wonder Ru liked him. Shit, don’t think about that. “I’ll take beer.”
Phillip agreed and so did Beverly. Only Tilda wanted white wine. The waitress arrived. Gray said, “Shall we get a pitcher?”
The waitress smiled. Her smile froze, and then she swallowed hard. “You’re, uh, you’re Gray Anson.”
“Yep.” He flashed the famous grin.
“I love you.” He laughed. Her eyes got wider. “Oh my God, you’re Merle Justice. I love you too.”
He gave her the boy-next-door smile. “That’s great. Double love.”
“Wow. I better get you beer, right, or I’m never going to get you to sign my boobs.” She laughed.
Gray covered his shudder. “No boobs, but I’m sure you can get us to sign napkins, notepaper, the palm of your hand—but we need beer first.”
“Oooh, right away!” She took off like a rabbit.
Merle shook his head, then put a warm palm on Gray’s arm. “Hey, man, I just want to tell you how great you are in the role. I wasn’t at the top of the believer’s chain on this enterprise, and you’ve made a jackass of me. I don’t know if showing the world is on your agenda, but you’re going to accomplish it.”
“Thanks. Really.” The only thing that would make him feel better was if Ru sat here to hear that.
The waitress brought not one but two pitchers of beer, which she assured them were compliments of the owner. She shoved the wine in front of Tilda, then produced a black marker and some large pieces of shiny cardboard. “Sign here, please. To Heather.” As Gray and Merle signed, she snapped about a million pictures with her phone, then shoved it at Phillip. “Will you take our picture, please?”
After about ten snaps, she finally left with her prizes, and they got down to serious beer drinking. Very serious. Two pitchers became four. Beverly clearly had an excessive affection for alcohol, but Merle and Gray chased her down and swamped her. Vision got blurry and speech nearly impossible. Gray giggled. Oh man, I am so drunk. Chris kept giving Gray the hairy eyeball. Don’t care. Tired of being Mr. Sensible.
Merle leaned over heavily against Gray’s shoulders. “Did I tell you you’re sure great as Hamlet, buddy? I mean, shit, you should give up atshion movies and try Shakes—Spearehakes—Shakes all the time. Glad I get to play wif you.” He burst out laughing. “Play wif you. I’d sure like to play wif you.”
Gray rested his forehead against Merle’s. “You would. Thad be fun, buddy. Know who we need to play wif? Ru. Ru’s good player. We need Ru.”
“Yeah. Good idea. We should go ged ’im.”
“Shhh. Chris won’ led me, I bet. I mean, hell, I pay all these people, and they run everything an I just do all the shit they tell me, and he won’t led me ged Ru.”
“Shhh. Gez what? Back door. Gotta pee, right? I go. Then you. Go ged Ru.”
Gray giggled. “Yeah. You’re a planner, man. I like that.”
Merle squeezed out past Tilda, nearly landing in her lap, and headed for the men’s room. Gray stared after him. The edges of his vision swam, which made him queasy, and that made him giggle. Go find Ru. He looked around the table and pointed toward the bathroom hall. “Gotta go.”
Beverly laughed. “I’d
Gray nodded and threaded through the tables to claim a curved booth that could seat at least six. That should do it. He sat facing the door. It didn’t take long. Phillip came through the entrance with Beverly, Tilda, and Merle following. Gray waved. Phillip looked surprised, then smiled and headed in his direction. “You beat us.”
“I had a ride. Sorry. I would have brought you, but I decided to come on the spur of the moment.”
“Hey, glad you did.”
Phillip took one of the two chairs, Beverly the other, and Merle slid into the booth next to Gray, with Tilda beside him.
Gray waggled a finger at the busy waitress. “I would have ordered, but I wasn’t sure what everyone wants.”
Merle grinned. Really cute guy. No wonder Ru liked him. Shit, don’t think about that. “I’ll take beer.”
Phillip agreed and so did Beverly. Only Tilda wanted white wine. The waitress arrived. Gray said, “Shall we get a pitcher?”
The waitress smiled. Her smile froze, and then she swallowed hard. “You’re, uh, you’re Gray Anson.”
“Yep.” He flashed the famous grin.
“I love you.” He laughed. Her eyes got wider. “Oh my God, you’re Merle Justice. I love you too.”
He gave her the boy-next-door smile. “That’s great. Double love.”
“Wow. I better get you beer, right, or I’m never going to get you to sign my boobs.” She laughed.
Gray covered his shudder. “No boobs, but I’m sure you can get us to sign napkins, notepaper, the palm of your hand—but we need beer first.”
“Oooh, right away!” She took off like a rabbit.
Merle shook his head, then put a warm palm on Gray’s arm. “Hey, man, I just want to tell you how great you are in the role. I wasn’t at the top of the believer’s chain on this enterprise, and you’ve made a jackass of me. I don’t know if showing the world is on your agenda, but you’re going to accomplish it.”
“Thanks. Really.” The only thing that would make him feel better was if Ru sat here to hear that.
The waitress brought not one but two pitchers of beer, which she assured them were compliments of the owner. She shoved the wine in front of Tilda, then produced a black marker and some large pieces of shiny cardboard. “Sign here, please. To Heather.” As Gray and Merle signed, she snapped about a million pictures with her phone, then shoved it at Phillip. “Will you take our picture, please?”
After about ten snaps, she finally left with her prizes, and they got down to serious beer drinking. Very serious. Two pitchers became four. Beverly clearly had an excessive affection for alcohol, but Merle and Gray chased her down and swamped her. Vision got blurry and speech nearly impossible. Gray giggled. Oh man, I am so drunk. Chris kept giving Gray the hairy eyeball. Don’t care. Tired of being Mr. Sensible.
Merle leaned over heavily against Gray’s shoulders. “Did I tell you you’re sure great as Hamlet, buddy? I mean, shit, you should give up atshion movies and try Shakes—Spearehakes—Shakes all the time. Glad I get to play wif you.” He burst out laughing. “Play wif you. I’d sure like to play wif you.”
Gray rested his forehead against Merle’s. “You would. Thad be fun, buddy. Know who we need to play wif? Ru. Ru’s good player. We need Ru.”
“Yeah. Good idea. We should go ged ’im.”
“Shhh. Chris won’ led me, I bet. I mean, hell, I pay all these people, and they run everything an I just do all the shit they tell me, and he won’t led me ged Ru.”
“Shhh. Gez what? Back door. Gotta pee, right? I go. Then you. Go ged Ru.”
Gray giggled. “Yeah. You’re a planner, man. I like that.”
Merle squeezed out past Tilda, nearly landing in her lap, and headed for the men’s room. Gray stared after him. The edges of his vision swam, which made him queasy, and that made him giggle. Go find Ru. He looked around the table and pointed toward the bathroom hall. “Gotta go.”
Beverly laughed. “I’d
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