“We’re in a show together,” he offered, happily spooning up a second huge helping. “We’re in Hamlet. Spencer just joined the cast today.”

It was like someone had made that needle-being-dragged-across-a-record screeching noise that they sometimes use in movie previews. Both of Scarlett’s parents turned in unison.

“It just happened,” Spencer said quickly. “Really. Today. About four hours ago.”

Mrs. Amberson latched on to this at once.

“Hamlet, Prince of Denmark!” she exclaimed, unaware of the myriad expressions flying across the table, the drama that was silently being played out. She launched into a half-hour-long story about her friend getting mugged while he was on his way to perform in Shakespeare in the Park. She talked so long that dinner was finished when she concluded, and she had clearly exhausted herself. Marlene openly glared at her in boredom.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she finally said, “I need to head to bed. Thank you for a lovely evening, everyone.”

Eric stood when she left, then made his own polite farewells.

“We’ll walk you out,” Spencer said, nodding at Scarlett.

“Make sure to come back,” her dad said knowingly. “We should talk.”

Out on the sidewalk, Eric remained blissfully unaware of the furor he had accidentally caused.

“I have to get going,” he said. “Your family is…so different from my family.”

“We know what that really means,” Spencer said.

“No. They’re great. I mean it. Thanks for bringing me along. See you tomorrow, Spence. And thanks for the invitation, Scarlett.”

He reached out to shake her hand as well, holding it just a moment longer than necessary. His hand was strong, a little rough along the bottom of the palm. This beautiful creature had actually come into her life, had dinner at her house, touched her hand, and now he was leaving.

There was no time to revel in the moment, though.

“Can you help me think of a way to keep from ruining my life in the next fifteen minutes?” Spencer asked, spinning her around to face him. “I’d really appreciate it.”

THE DAY OF RECKONING

“I had kind of been hoping to lay it on them myself later, when I had time to think of a clever story in which I became famous and highly-paid, but it looks like it’s going to be now. Why did you invite him here?”

Spencer was about to lose it. He was pacing up and down the sidewalk in front of the door and rubbing his face so hard that it looked like he might be in danger of snapping off his own nose.

“What should I say?” he begged, his voice cracking a little. “It’s not Broadway. It’s not TV.”

“It’s Shakespeare,” she offered weakly, knowing that that made no difference.

“Do I lie?” he asked, peeling his hand off his face. “I’m okay with lying, except…I’m going to get caught, when, you know, they actually come and see it’s in a parking garage. Or when they ask me how much I’m going to make, and I say, ‘Four dollars a day.’ They won’t be impressed. They will be the opposite of impressed. I have to make this work, Scarlett. Think.”