“Inside, obviously.”
“But I thought you said it’s closed?”
“It is, but I have a friend of a friend that’s high up on the board, so we get the place to ourselves for one hour.”
My jaw drops. My eyes shoot back to the theater. “A friend of a friend? Is this your subtle way of letting me know that you’re currently banging Shakespeare’s great-great-granddaughter?”
“A gentleman never tells. Shall we?”
I shake my head in disbelief as I let him pull me forward. I don’t know how he swung this, but I’m more than happy to tag along for the ride.
We end up going around the corner and stopping in front of a side entrance, where Liam knocks on the door. We’re let inside by a smartly dressed security guard, who shakes our hands and locks up behind us. He walks us down a wide hallway, then directs us to the left and says that he’ll be in his office. Liam thanks him and holds open the next door as the man disappears down the hallway. The whole thing feels veryGoodfellas-esque with a Shakespearian twist, and I am fully game.
Step by step, I pass through the open door and move deeper into the theater, until I’m gradually enveloped in the glow of the house lights as they pour down from the rafters. The stage is front and center, intimidating but inviting all at once. I turn around, looking at the intricate wooden structure of the theater itself, which is composed of multiple levels of seating, before focusing back on the pit, where Liam and I are now standing. We’re modern-day “groundlings.” I look up to the partially open-air ceiling, seeing the sky beginning to darken above us, but only just. It’s magic hour—day but night, and bathing London in a toasty orange haze.
“I can’t believe we’re in here alone right now.” I twist to face Liam, finding him quietly watching me. “Do you know how lucky we are?”
“Strangely enough, I’ve never considered myself to be very lucky.”
I tilt my head with a skeptical raise of my eyebrow. “Right. I mean, look at you—a man who’s seemingly enjoying a life of leisure, living in one of the best cities in the world, and who has a family who adores him. Poor boy, you must really be having a tough go of it.”
“You think you know me so well, do you?” He steps closer, still curiously gazing at me.
“I feel like I do, but I probably don’t. Bearing that in mind, why don’t you tell me more about yourself? Just the basics. And by the basics, I mean reveal something deeply personal.”
And upon hearing that, he stops moving forward. “Upon extensive consideration, I’ve decided I’d rather not.”
“Shocker,” I say through an unsurprised grin.
“Maybe I’ll be in a more sharing mood after we eat. I didn’t set up a romantic dinner table, but I did bring sandwiches.”
“Sandwiches and the Globe? Have you been reading my manifestation journal?”
A moment later, Liam and I are sitting cross-legged on the stone pit floor, both enjoying lovely turkey sandwiches. I’ve just finished taking a delicious bite when I say, “In the interest of saving time, I think you and I should discuss red flags.”
“Red flags?” Liam asks, taking a sip from his mini bottle of water and setting it down between us.
“Yes. Typically, when people like each other, they go out a few times, maybe meet each other’s friends, and very quickly, they start to have all these expectations about the other person. Then, a month or two down the road, they let their guards down, and all the red flags start popping up, and then one or both people end up running for the hills. So, as you and I only have roughly two more weeks to get to know each other, I think we should both just reveal our red flags now. Then we don’t have to waste any more of each other’s time if we find out we’re actually no longer interested post-red-flags.”
“That sounds both sensible and efficient.” Liam quickly takes another bite of his sandwich before going on. “Alright then, you first.”
“Okay,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Obviously, my dedication to my job can sometimes be concerning to guys I date. Juliette is my number one priority, so there have been several occasions where my romantic prospects have had a problem with that.”
“I suppose that makes sense, but professional satisfaction is crucial in relationships. You focusing on that area of your life doesn’t seem like such an issue to me.”
“It will when it’s your birthday and I ditch you to help Juliette finish up a DIY upholstery project that she decided to start on a whim.”
“Well, I suppose that depends on the fabric choice used in said project. Velvet is highly offensive to me, but a nice durable cotton, that I could forgive.”
I have to smile, both at his quick response and at the realization that he seems completely honest. Maybe excessive work wouldn’t bother him. Emboldened by his acceptance, I go on.
“And I’m a pushover when it comes to the people I love. Friends, family, and, of course, Juliette. I’ve always had a deep need to be liked.”
“And what do you attribute that to?”
“It could be because of what happened with my mom or how my dad raised me. He was pretty hands-off, even if he was a good father. But when I would go above and beyond, whether it be with a play I was doing or with school or helping him with something, then he’d finally give me the validation I craved. To this day, I’d do anything to make the people I care for happy, even at my own expense.”
Liam shifts around a bit, untangling his legs to sit more comfortably. “Not to minimize what you’re saying, but it seems that all your red flags are steeped in good.”
