He recognized a few of the other dancers and some of the housekeeping staff from dinner. He definitely wasn’t looking specifically for Mateo, but he got a thrill when he saw him lounging on a couch by the back hall, and, damn, did he look sexy. His hair was wet and falling onto his forehead in pieces. His pale blue patterned button-down was only half done up and was paired with tight faded jeans. He held a bottle of something Archer didn’t recognize in one hand and the other was stabbing the air as he made a point to the person he was talking to.

“I know, right? I can’t believe he’s here,” Betty whispered in his ear.

“Who? What?” Archer said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Please. You haven’t stopped staring at him since you arrived.”

A protest formed on his lips but it seemed pointless. “So what’s he doing here?”

“I don’t really know. Have you heard the full story about him, though?”

Archer shook his head. Betty grabbed a drink for herself and pulled him back outside. “Come on.” They went and leaned on the railing, watching the splashing and pushing and cannonballing off the dock.

“Okay, so, you know how after Grease he got the lead in Robin’s Egg, right?”

That musical had taken Broadway by storm six years ago. The main character was a trans woman and Mateo had played the Latino love interest. “Of course, yeah.”

“They say the fame went to his head, he started strutting around like he was king of Broadway, drinking and partying too much, treating the rest of the cast like shit, apparently said some really awful things to his costar, and he got fired and then he … disappeared.”

“Wow.” All Archer had heard was the statement Mateo had released at the time that he was stepping down from the role for personal health reasons, which admittedly was usually code for drug or alcohol problems. His brain spun as he filed away the new information, heart hurting a little at the idea that his teenage crush was maybe not a very good person. “How long has he been here?”

“No idea. It was a surprise for me yesterday, too.”

Archer took a thoughtful sip of beer and stared out at the lake. There was no moon, and the night was dark, save for the glimmer of the resort’s lights on the water. Someone turned on a lantern on the dock. “I kind of had a massive crush on him when I was a teenager.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, I had a picture of him on my wall and everything.” Archer chuckled at the memory. “I even used to practice writing my name Archer Dixon and imagined going to prom with him.”

Betty laughed and took a drink. “Well, good luck talking to him. Aside from choreo, he hasn’t said two words to me. Seems kind of … grumpy.”