Cal looked confused. “Well, sure but?—”
“If you can fence, you can dance. Here.” He shut the water off, plucked the towel out of Cal’s grip and dried his hands off, and tossed it on the counter. “What steps are you struggling with? I’ll bet I can help.”
Cal looked past him into the dining room.
Monty sighed and turned the radio up a notch. “Come on. They won’t mind. I’m sure Morgan is waxing poetic about how great the carrots were,” he added, annoyed with how bitter he sounded.
“They were good carrots.”
“Shut up and dance, Campbell.”
Cal laughed and looked down at his feet. After a long moment of hesitation, right when Monty thought the guy would actually chicken out, he hesitantly did a double Buffalo.
“That’s not bad. You’re just a little heavy on your feet, that’s all. Look.” Monty did the step, adding the right amount of bounce. “You gotta move like there’s rubber on the bottom of your shoes. Light. Easy. See?”
Cal watched, forehead creased in concentration. Then he attempted the step again.
“Better!” Monty demonstrated again, scatting out nonsense sounds to the rhythm.
When Cal did the same, Morgan and Hilliard showed up in the doorway.
“Having fun without us?” Morgan teased.
Cal blushed. “Monty was offering to help me a bit with the dancing.”
“Morgan, sweetie,” Monty said, “You’ve got to get this guy to stop talking down about himself. It’s not healthy.”
Morgan laughed. “I’m trying. He’s determined to believe he’s no good. And I thought you agreed to call me Jesse.”
Monty grinned. “See, Campbell? We all believe in you. Stop being such a wet blanket.”
“Montgomery,” Hilliard chided without rancor. “I thought you knew better than to insult dinner guests.”
“Maybe Mr. Kincaid can help us with that one underarm turn?” Jesse said. “It’s been giving us both some stick and no matter how much Mr. Price has us rehearse it, we can’t get it right.”
“Call me Monty. And sure. Price is a brilliant choreographer but he’s a pretty lousy teacher. Show me the step.”
Jesse did. Without thinking, Monty took Hilliard’s hand and led him through the move, explaining as he went. Soon all four of them were doing underarm turns in the tiny kitchen, with Henrietta yapping and hopping between their legs. Monty laughed and scooped her up under his arm. He’d missed the joy he got from dancing.
As they all sat down to eat some well-earned pecan pie with vanilla ice cream, Monty looked around the table at everyone’s pink cheeks and laughing expressions. He was particularly caught up with Hilliard’s—the man was relaxed, his smile easy and bright. Monty realized that being friends with Cal and Jesse was a lot easier than he had figured. And furthermore, it might be the key to winning Hilliard’s heart.
He dug into his dessert, feeling a lightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite put a name to.
Chapter 16
Hilliard
Hilliard had never been more grateful to be cast in a comedy. Still, there was only so much he was allowed to laugh without breaking character. As the sidekick of a man facing one absolutely ridiculous scenario after the next, he was supposed to be cheerful and uplifting, a perfect balance to the role Monty was playing. The second that Director Chen cut the scene, Hilliard bent forward, bracing his hands on his knees as he laughed hard.
“Some friend you are,” Monty grumbled, dusting fake snow off his chest with both hands.
“At least it didn’t go in your mouth this time,” Hilliard said, shoulders still shaking as he righted himself.
Both of them had filmed on the studio’s backlot countless times, but never in such a wintery splendor. The ground was covered with a foamy, soapy concoction to give the illusion of fluffy, freshly-fallen snow, which was the closest they were going to get to the real thing in late June. The row of building façades had been trussed up in swags of garland and wreaths sporting shiny baubles and big bows. Even the trees that usually lined the paved street–the only permanent part of the entire outdoor set–were removed and replaced with decorated lamp posts.
The most amusing part was the contrast in clothing. Hilliard was in a heavy brown coat that reached his ankles; Monty had on a thick sweater and scarf. It was likely the first time in the three years of their friendship that Monty’s outfit was the more colorful one. Just a few feet away behind the camera, the crew was wearing light, summery outfits to battle the Southern California sun.
“We’re going to run it one more time with the horse,” Director Chen called out from underneath the brim of her sun hat. “The last shot wasn’t as dramatic as I need it to be.”
