five

Dan rejoined us several minutes later. His face was flushed and his mouth was pinched in annoyance. “Is everything all right?” Harper asked, laying her hand on his arm. “You look upset.”

Dan shook his head, as well as his arm from her hand. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice curt.

Harper gamely placed her hand back on his forearm and gave it a gentle pat. “Well, why don’t I get you a drink then,” she said soothingly.

Before anyone could protest her offer to leave the three of us alone, she was gone. Dan ignored us completely, silently staring at some unseen spot on the floor. Nigel gave me a pointed look and mouthed safe word. After several seconds of awkward silence, I asked, “So are you writing the review for Peggy’s play?”

Dan glanced up blinking as if surprised to find me there. “What?” he said.

I repeated the question. “Yes, of course, I’m reviewing it,” he said with a sigh of irritation. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I forced a polite smile. “Well, I just wondered if there might be a conflict of interest, as Peggy is one of Harper’s best friends.”

Dan snorted. “I think you just answered your question,” he said. “Peggy is one of Harper’s best friends. Not mine. Ergo, no conflict.”

I took a deep breath and tried not to incite a different kind of conflict. “So will you have to leave right after the play to write the review?” I asked trying to keep the hope out of my voice.

“No,” Dan replied. “I already turned it in. It’ll go live online first thing tomorrow.”

“How does that work?” Nigel asked taking a sip of his drink. “Isn’t tonight the opening night?”

Dan glanced around as if distracted before answering. “Yes, but the days of critics frantically running home to bang out their reviews minutes after the curtain drops have gone the way of the Dodo bird. These days, plays begin well before their so-called opening night. It allows the cast and crew to work out any kinks before it officially opens. Critics are invited late in this preview period when the director thinks the play is ready.”

“I never knew that,” I admitted as Dan continued to idly scan the room.

At my answer a distinctly patronizing expression crossed his face. “Yes, well, that’s not too surprising given—” he began, but a sudden movement next to me stopped him. I glanced up at Nigel. Generally, Nigel exudes an air of genial affability wrapped up in a package of absurd good looks. The absurd good looks were still there, but the affability was not. It had been replaced with an almost tangible animosity as he regarded Dan with a challenging stare. Dan blinked at Nigel and quickly looked away. With a faintly apologetic smile, he continued, “Uh … given that it’s not widely known outside of the theater circle.”

“I see. So what was your opinion then?” I asked as I mentally considered options for Dan’s recompense. A subscription to several tawdry magazines seemed appropriate. Nigel’s reward also contained an element of the tawdry, but in his case it would be appreciated.

Dan stared at me dumbly.

“About Peggy’s play?” I prompted. “Did you like it?”

“Oh,” he said shifting his feet and averting his eyes. “Yes. Her play. Right. Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to make my opinion known until the review runs. Company policy, I’m afraid.” He quickly glanced at us and produced a swift, tight smile. A faint throbbing started behind my right eye. If Dan had disliked Peggy’s play and went on to skewer it with his usual venomous style, there’d be no reason for Harper to divorce Dan. She’d just kill him outright.