Some Like It Geek: A Really Big Set of Romances

by Box Set

  "My boy," Charlie said, tightening his arms one more time before releasing Greg and pulling away. "I've missed you."

  "Not enough to drop the boy thing, I see." He shook his head, amused. Charlie had been calling him that since they’d graduated together, in a mockery of their old drama teacher, who called every male student “my boy” and every female student “my dear”.

  "I’ll never drop it." Charlie shrugged, eyeing him up and down. "You look good. Still hot."

  Greg snorted. "Glad I continue to meet with your approval."

  "Always." Charlie grinned with a leer, and Greg rolled his eyes but grinned back. Some things never changed.

  "I've missed you, too, you brat." He threw his arm around Charlie's shoulders and turned him into the direction of the street. "Come on, let's go eat."

  Twenty minutes later, when they were sitting in the booth at the back of Charlie's favorite Italian restaurant, Greg leaned back in his seat and let himself relax completely. The smell of tomato sauce and garlic promised him a good meal, and the company of one of his oldest friends let him drop the act and enjoy himself.

  "Tell me what's going on with you," Charlie said, leaning his forearms on the table. "How's my city treating you?"

  Greg snorted, not knowing where to start. "I’ve been here less than two days and it's already been a crazy ride."

  "That's New York for you."

  "If you say so," Greg said dryly. "But I saw Illuminations last night, and you, my friend, were great."

  "You were there last night?" Charlie sat up. "Why the hell didn't you say anything? Or come back stage? We have some new people I could show you off to."

  Greg chuckled. "Tempting. I was going to come up and see you afterward, but then my night turned on its head."

  The waitress came back with their food—Greg couldn't resist ordering lasagna, since he wasn't on a fitness regime now—and when she left, Charlie pointed at him with his fork.

  "Spill."

  Greg could lie to his agent and publicist, but there was no way he would lie to Charlie, so he spilled the story as they ate, up to and including the whole pretend dating scheme.

  His friend kept quiet, only shoving pasta into his mouth, but his eyebrows slowly moved up as the story continued. When Greg finished, Charlie shook his head.

  "Your life is crazy. I know I tell you this at least once a year, but seriously—your life is crazy."

  "I know." Greg swallowed another piece of lasagna. "But this is more insane than anything that’s happened in a while."

  "The fact that it isn't the most insane thing, says so much about your life."

  Greg nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Well, the Oscar nomination is still up there in the first slot."

  "Maybe in your book. As far as I’m concerned, this whole thing trumps the Oscars."

  "I'm just glad the plan seems to be working. I really want to do this Broadway thing I’ve heard so much about,” he joked after swallowing another bite.

  Charlie grinned. "I can't wait to play opposite you again. We haven't done it in ages."

  It was Greg's turn to point with his fork. "I've asked you to come play in a movie with me probably a million times."

  "And I've told you a million times, movies aren't my thing. That’s why I had to drag you here."

  "And you did."

  In the end, it was as simple as that. He was in New York, about to play on Broadway, because his old friend had called with an offer Greg couldn’t resist. And now they were going to play opposite each other in Illuminations, after Charlie moved from the understudy to the lead actor in a few weeks.

  For probably the fifth time today, Greg wondered for a brief moment what Sylvia's reaction was going to be. She hadn't pushed this morning when she’d asked about his secret project, which he really appreciated. He’d been tempted to throw caution to the wind, but it wasn't only his ass on the line. If the word got out and he couldn't play later on, the repercussions to the theater and the whole production could be severe.

  He still wanted to be the one to tell her about it when the time came—to see her face, see that spark in her eyes she always got when she talked about Broadway. He was pretty sure she was going to be over the moon, especially since he wouldn't mind letting her use the "family ticket" for the majority of the performances, save for one or two when his parents would undoubtedly take the trip up to New York to see him on stage.

  The kick in the shin abruptly brought him back to the present.

  "Hey!”

  Charlie looked at him innocently. "What?"

  "You are a big child, Charles Donatello Amis."

  "Shhhh." Charlie waved his hand. "Low blow, man."

  One of the advantages of knowing someone half his life was that Greg had enough ammunition on Charlie to last him for many years to come. And Charlie's hate for his second name was endless.

  "I'm not the one who went for the kicking," Greg told him.

  "Well, you zoned out on me." Charlie shrugged. "What were you thinking about?"

  Greg hesitated and his friend's face lit up. Damn. The downside of knowing someone for so long was that they usually knew him just as well.

  "You like her!" Charlie almost cooed, but not loud enough for anybody else to pick up on, thankfully. "Oh, this is so great. It makes this entire thing even better."

  "I'm glad this is so entertaining for you," Greg muttered. “And it’s not like that.”

  "If I thought we'd lose a chance to play together, it wouldn't be, but I'm confident it’ll be fine. And having you step into a romantic comedy situation after only a day in New York is gold. I’m going to cherish this and laugh at you for the rest of our lives.”

  Greg grimaced at that. Maybe he should look for some new friends.

  "There, there, I won't laugh at you too much…for now," Charlie said, grinning. "Tell me a bit more about this Sylvia."

  "Well, the first thing I learned about her was that she was a big fan of yours," Greg admitted and watched as his friend lost it and erupted in laughter loud enough to turn heads on the other side of the room.

  Yeah, Greg was screwed.

  Chapter Seven

  "Dinner and a show?" Sylvia grinned up at Greg who leaned against her desk, looking very pleased with himself. And very hot, the voice in the back of her head added, but she pushed the thought away. "I feel spoiled."

  "I want you to meet my friend, but he's working late, so we can catch the show and meet him afterward."

  She raised her eyebrows. She didn’t expect to meet any of his friends. "And what does your friend know about, you know…us? Are we going to have to pretend?"

  "No, he knows everything. I told him how you're helping me out by playing along, and he helped me secure the last-minute tickets. I know you've seen Illuminations three times already, but since you loved it so much and your favorite is playing the lead this week, I thought…"

  "Oh, I'm more than happy to see it again," Sylvia assured him. She wouldn’t be able to justify buying the ticket again so soon, but getting to see the show for free? There was no way she was going to pass on that.

  "Great. I should go and leave you to it."

  He straightened up, and Sylvia suddenly realized how close they’d been only a moment before. She looked down at the file she had opened on her desk as she felt herself blush.

  "See you tomorrow then,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

  "I’ll pick you up at seven?"

  She nodded. "Perfect."

  "Okay, it's a date." He flashed her a smile and then left, leaving her to stare at the closed doors until she heard someone clearing their throat. She turned her head. Nate. She winced internally at his knowing look.

  "Do you need something?" she asked, circling the chair to face him fully.

  He looked at her a moment longer before speaking. "Should I worry about this?"

  "About what?" She tried not to glance down but failed, and Nate knew her tells too well to miss that.

 
"You're forgetting it's pretend, aren't you?"

  "I'm not.” Sylvia shook her head. If she repeated it enough times, maybe she’d start to believe it. “I know it’s not real."

  "But you wish it was," Nate finished for her, and she shrugged.

  "Hey, he's a movie star. What girl wouldn't wish for a prince scenario like that?" she tried to turn it into a joke.

  Nate snorted. "You wanted to be a pirate, not a princess. And then you wanted to be a French revolutionary."

  That was true. Her teenage Les Miserables obsession had been epic.

  Nate leaned in against her desk, serious again. “Just remember, he's a movie star who’s going back to L.A. in three months, tops. Don't let him break your heart."

  "I won’t," she told Nate and hoped her stupid heart would get the message, too. She had a history of falling too fast and usually for the wrong guy, but she hoped she’d left that behind her. That, and her belief in a fairytale ending—something this thing they were doing right now would definitely not have.

  "I hope so. I don't want you hurt, and I definitely don't want to be even partially responsible for it."

  That made her roll her eyes. Nate took his job as her older brother very seriously, and she could admit it was great to have him to lean on over the years, but he could also get overprotective, and it drove her crazy

  "You wouldn't be responsible for any of this,” she told him, running a hand through her hair. She was almost twenty-nine, and Nate somehow still managed to treat her like a child sometimes.

  "We came up with the idea—"

  "Because I came to you asking for a plan. And then both Greg and I accepted it, so it's on us."

  He looked like he wanted to argue, but the phone rang and Sylvia picked it up quickly.

  "Foster, Young, and Urban, New York City Fixers, how can I help you?"

  Nate mouthed, "Saved by the bell", and headed back to his office. Sylvia swallowed a relieved sigh and focused on the call. She would have a lot of time to worry about everything later.

  She changed dresses three times on Friday night before she decided on one, and then she almost stabbed herself in the eye with the eyeliner brush. The one thing she kept repeating to herself over and over again was, “It’s not a real date, it’s not a real date”.

  Well, it seemed very real to her.

  When Greg finally called to let her know he was waiting downstairs, she took a few deep breaths to calm her hammering heart. She tangled her hands into the strap of her bag as she was walking down the stairs, mindful of the heels she saved for special occasions.

  “Be cool. Be cool.”

  He looked like a man from a movie. That was her first thought when she saw him, and yes, the irony of that wasn't lost on her. He was leaning against the car, dressed in all black, with his hands in his pockets. And when their gazes met… Damn.

  "You look amazing," he greeted her when she came up to the car.

  She bit her lower lip, fighting a blush. "You look nice, too," she said when he opened the door for her.

  They got in, and Sylvia greeted Jack, who sat behind the wheel. As she leaned back against the seat, she had a sudden memory flash of the one other time she had been in this car, right after they’d escaped the paparazzo.

  “You okay?”

  She turned to Greg and nodded. “I’m fine, I just remembered our last drive. The paparazzo and…you know, everything.”

  She couldn’t believe it had only been a few days. She wondered if the whole thing would ever stop being surreal.

  Not as long as Greg’s in your life, a voice in the back of her head pointed out, and her throat tightened. She didn’t want to think about that.

  “You’ve been handling it really well,” he said. “I know it’s hard to let people photograph you and follow you around. If you don’t want to do this anymore—”

  “I’m fine.” She wanted to reach out and touch him but curled her fingers on her lap. She had to keep some boundaries. “I’m good.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment, and Sylvia could feel her heart speeding up. It’s not a date, she told herself once again, but now, sitting here with Greg—with his beautiful eyes and his…everything—it was even harder to remember than before.

  Illuminations had always left Sylvia with the lingering feeling of wonder and the best kind of heartache, and this time was no exception. She walked out to the foyer in a daze, but Greg’s presence next to her, his strong arm under her hand, helped to ground her and slowly bring her back to the present.

  He was looking at her with a gentle smile and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes made Sylvia wish she could reach out and touch. She imagined running her fingers down his face, tracing the line of his jaw…

  She licked her lower lip, and his gaze dropped to follow the movement, making her breath catch.

  That—that wasn't pretend.

  The heat slowly uncurled in her stomach, and she tilted her head up as Greg leaned into her. This is it, this is going to happen. She was about to close her eyes and—

  The flash went off somewhere on their left. The spell was broken.

  They pulled back from each other and turned away from whoever it was that had destroyed their intimate moment.

  She blinked quickly a few times, trying to regain her equilibrium again, but this time, Greg's closeness was more distracting than calming. She looked around and focused on small details—red shoes with impossibly high heels on an already tall woman, a couple of women in the corner who had their pinkies linked as each of them held a wine glass in the other hand, the guy in a light green jacket and light blue shoes. Details helped her to get back to the present, to narrow her world down to here and now once again.

  "You okay?" Greg whispered into her ear, and Sylvia had to bite her lower lip to stop the shiver. She wanted to tilt her head to the side and expose her neck to him, hoping he would brush his lips over it. Hoping he would kiss her when he was done exploring.

  But then his words registered, and she nodded, not yet trusting her voice.

  Damn it. Nate was right to be concerned. Sylvia's reactions were getting way out of control.

  "Let's just go," Greg said, and after a stop to pick up their jackets, he led her out of the theater into the chilly night. Sylvia inhaled deeply, trying to stomp down on her disappointment as she felt the last remnants of her daze dissolve into cold air.

  The heartache she was still feeling had nothing to do with the tonight’s show.

  "So, where to now?" she asked, trying to distract herself. They had spent the last half an hour in the theater lobby bar because they'd still had time before dinner, but now that they left, Sylvia realized she had no idea where they were going.

  "There's an Italian restaurant a block from here," Greg said, leading her through the alley where they’d first met. As they passed the stage door, Sylvia shot a quick look at the group of fans waiting, but she recognized only two women and, luckily, they weren't looking in their direction. She wasn’t ready to face anyone she knew while she and Greg were…doing all this.

  She recognized the restaurant, but she had never been there before. The main room was a big, open space with more private seats situated in the back. The overhead light was dim, so it took Sylvia a second to recognize the guy who stood up as they walked up to his table.

  Charlie Amis. Greg's close friend whom he wanted to introduce her to was Charlie Amis.

  "Hi, nice to meet you," Charlie said when she gawked at him like a crazy person.

  "Sylvia, this is my friend, Charlie. Charlie, this is Sylvia." Greg sounded like he fought a laugh, and there was a voice at the back of Sylvia's head that promised revenge.

  "Nice to meet you, too," she finally said. She smiled, trying to cover up her shock. "I’m a fan of your work."

  Charlie grinned at her. "Thank you, I appreciate it. Greg mentioned you are a big Broadway fan."

  A big fan. Sylvia wondered if these were really the words Greg used. "I am. I go to
see a show every chance I get,” she told him after they sat down.

  "Me, too! Well, I don't have a lot of time to do that now, but I try to catch most shows throughout the season."

  "What do you like the most this year?" she couldn't help but ask.

  "Checkers was amazing. I saw it in October, and still nothing has really beat it in my book. Aside from Illuminations, of course, but I'm biased."

  "You're not, Illuminations is the best." Sylvia told him, nodding. Then she glanced at her date, hoping he wasn't put out by them steering the conversation to Broadway, but Greg just sat back in his seat and smiled warmly, looking from one to the other. He seemed happy to watch them talk.

  Without thinking, she reached out under the table and closed her fingers around his wrist where he was resting his hand on his thigh. She squeezed once and then let go, taking her hand away. She could feel her face redden, but then Greg's smile got softer, and she couldn't not answer in kind.

  Then she remembered about Charlie and shot him a quick look, but he was reading the menu, or at least pretending to. Sylvia grinned, slowly picking up her own menu. Her life had been taking one completely surreal turn after the other lately, but right now, she was too happy to care.

  "I still can't believe you didn't tell me your friend was the guy I gushed to you about." Sylvia shook her head when they were on the way to her place. The evening was lovely and she’d had a great time, both because of the company and also because she had a chance to see Greg at his most natural—it was obvious he and Charlie knew each other very well, and they used that knowledge to banter and tease each other.

  Now Greg looked at her with a grin. "I wanted it to be a surprise. And besides, you didn't have to waste time stressing over it or anything."

  "It was bizarre," she admitted. "If someone had told me ten days ago that I would be eating dinner with the two of you, I'd have thought they were insane. I know you're probably used to meeting famous people—"

  Greg shook his head. "Hey, I can still get totally star-struck."

  She raised her eyebrows, mirroring him as he turned in his seat to face her. "Really? Who made you star-struck lately?"