“How long have you been dating the tech titan, Benson Carter?”
“Well, we’re just getting to know one another, but I’ve seen enough to know you might see us together quite a bit,” he said as he landed a perfectly timed wink over to Benson, just as the flash of the camera went off.
Benson preened, so proud of Luka. He wasn’t shy, and he already knew how to handle the sometimes overly persistent press.
Once Luka got their gossip mills set for the next day’s posts, he held his arm out for Benson, and once Benson took it, they heard the shutter clicks coming like gunfire.
“You handled them well.”
“I practice.”
“It shows, but you looked very natural.”
“This is amazing, Benson. I love this. Really.”
“I thought you might.”
They were inside the lobby, drinking champagne a few minutes later, off in a corner, flirting terribly. “If there weren’tpress all over, I’d drag you to a quiet corner and thank you properly for this.”
His eyes were shining with mischief that drew Benson in like a tractor beam.
“Oh, well, next time I’ll choose a much quieter theater.”
“Don’t you dare!”
The night started off wonderfully and didn’t dip below wonderful once. They sat through the play, which was very good, though Luka told him that Monty’s was much better. “The comedy and drama in this one are good, but Monty’s has an easier mix with fresher lines.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m afraid I’m not that skilled in the acting world.”
“Well, I am, so you can take my word for it.”
The play was great, the company was better, and once they were out of the theater doors, more press were waiting, asking very few questions about how much they liked the show. No, they got questions hurled at them about their relationship. Instead of indulging them again, Luke hollered to all of them they’d be seeing more of them, and it was time for them to get into their car and go.
Luka, in one night, had catapulted himself into the limelight, and papers from New York, Chicago and more were already covering him.
So, it didn’t seem strange when he didn’t return Benson’s calls. Not at first.
After four weeks, however, Benson’s heart broke. He’d stopped calling, unwilling to be some kind of stalker to someone that had obviously moved on from him. He was miserable and had started not going in to work as often.
He couldn’t understand what he’d done. They’d made love after the play for hours, laughed together the next morning overcroissants and Turkish coffee. When he dropped Luka off at home, he kissed him for nearly half an hour in the hall.
Then…the calls stopped being returned. Texts were read but unanswered.
Monty called to keep him up on the play, but he didn’t ask about Luka. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to know how happy he might be in Benson’s absence from his life.
But it was Monty who first mentioned him, and when he did, Benson was more confused than ever.
“What the hell is going on with Luka? He’s snapping at everyone and misreading his lines. At this rate, he’ll never be ready for opening night.”
Benson sat up at his desk, and fear struck him. “Is he okay?”
“How would I know? I’m not his boyfriend.”
Falling back in the chair, Benson groaned, “Well, I’m not either. He stopped taking my calls almost six weeks ago.”
“What? What happened?”
“I have no idea.”
