***
Dan paced the hallway, frantically consulting his clipboard. "I told them! How am I supposed to put on a play when my actors can't be bothered to show up!?"
Behind him, a door opened and a six-year-old in a chipmunk costume poked her head out. "Mr. Halston?" she called. "Tommy's zipper is stuck and Savannah's crying 'cause she doesn't want to be broccoli anymore."
Dan looked up at the ceiling. "Give me strength," he muttered, and raised his voice for a chipper, "Be right there!" He turned to attend to his miniature divas -- and found himself abruptly nose-to-nose with the most gorgeous pair of warm brown eyes he'd ever seen.
He stumbled back with an automatic, "Sorry," and his throat went dry as the promise of those eyes was realized in broad shoulders, trim waist and hips, and a mouth-wateringly tight pair of jeans. "Um."
Brown-Eyes had a bright, slightly nervous smile, and was holding the hand of a tiny cherub dressed as a squash. "Hey," he said. "Are you Mr. Halston? I'm really sorry -- Emmy's parents had a little emergency and I told them I'd bring her. They'll catch up soon, I promise. Oh; I'm Emmy's uncle. Rob Brown." He offered a hand.
Dan took Rob's hand and felt his pre-show jitters fade. "Call me Dan. I hope you'll stay."
"For the show?" Rob cocked his head adorably, his hand lingering in Dan's.
Dan smiled. "That's a good start, anyway."
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