The orchestra was tuning up in the pit. The ushers were checking tickets and pointing to seats as the audience was filing in. The murmur of pre-show Broadway conversation filled the theater.
He was reading the Playbill and waiting for the show to begin when he glanced up and saw her. She was about five-seven, shoulder length black hair with bangs, dark eyes, a definite Mediterranean look to her. She stood there in her blue skirt and white sleeveless blouse, holding her ticket in one hand, and her clutch purse in the other.
She scanned the row of seats looking for hers, and their eyes met.
"Excuse me, is this seat M22?" she asked.
"Yes it is," he replied. "Right here, next to me."
"Great, thanks," she said, nestling into the seat. As she settled in, she smiled at him and asked, "Have you seen this show before?"
"No. Have you?"
"No, but a friend of mine saw it in Chicago. Said it was fabulous. Are you by yourself?" she asked.
"Afraid so," he said. "I'm in town on business, but I always catch a show when I can. How about you? Are you by yourself?"
"Yes, I 'd hoped my sister would come with me, but she's seen this one and she's funny about seeing things twice. So here I am seeing it alone," she smiled.
Her gaze lingered on him as she took in his brown eyes and graying black hair . He had come to the theater straight from a meeting, and was wearing gray slacks, a sport coat, and a white button down shirt, set off by a gold tie. She was having a hard time hiding the fact that she was so instantly and thoroughly attracted to him. After an awkward pause, they both began looking through their Playbills.
The house lights dimmed and the announcement was made to silence all cell phones and refrain from taking pictures. The curtains opened and the stage light illuminated their faces. He stole a quick peek at her. She caught him looking and smiled.
"Here we go," she said quietly as the music began.
"Here we go," he echoed quietly, returning her smile.
The buzz of the crowd fell silent as the curtains opened. Occasionally she would steal a glance at him, but she was careful to quickly focus her attention back on the show before he caught her looking. And, of course, he was doing the same. At one point their arms touched on the armrest between their seats, but then they quickly moved them away.
After the female lead sang a particularly good number, he leaned over and whispered into his seatmate's ear, "What an amazing voice," and he added, "And she's easy on the eyes, too...like you."
She smiled and whispered into his ear, "Good thing it's dark in here. You're making me blush." Then she added, "You're pretty easy on the eyes, too."
Their arms touched again on the armrest, but this time instead of moving them away, they kept them there. Then she began stroking his arm while pretending to watch the show. He reached over to stroke the back of her hand.
When the lights came up at intermission and the audience made their way to the lobby, they got up too. She stretched her arms above her head, and he placed his hand lightly on her waist.
'Well, what do you think of the show?" he asked.
"It was good, I thought," she replied, though she really hadn't paid much attention to it. And neither had he. Their minds were on each other.
"I'm going to the restroom. Meet me at the concessions and I'll buy you a drink?" he asked, as his hand dared to briefly stroke her ass as he withdrew his hand.
"Sounds good," she smiled as she gathered her purse.