Chapter Fourteen; Part One
“Hello? Is this Margaret Wang?” A British voice filtered through my cell phone, causing me to perk up. It was Wednesday night, and I’d just been ready to turn on the television to watch a little sports when the phone rang.
“Yes, it is. Is this Alan Rickman?” My heart beat a bit faster. What other Brit did I know? None.
“Yes, it is, love. How are you?” Alan Rickman, talking to me like we were friends. I had to breathe deeply a few times before answering.
“I’m just fine. You?”
“Smashing. I just wanted you to be the first in Minnesota to know that I’ve agreed to perform at the Guthrie. This fall. I shall be moving there, temporarily, of course, in a month or two. What do you think of that?”
“That’s fantastic,” I blurted out, not caring that I sounded like a star-struck teenager. I thought about it a second and realized that while it was, indeed, fantastic, it was also going to complicate my life somewhat. There was no denying I was powerfully attracted to Alan. Would I be able to keep my hands to myself? “What’s the play? No, wait, don’t tell me. I want to be surprised. It’s enough to know that you get the girl.” I was rewarded by Alan’s wonderful laugh. “Thank you for the orchids, by the way. They were beautiful.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them,” Alan said warmly. “You know, you could ring me every now and then. I did give you my number for a reason.” My heart stopped at those words. He actually thought I’d dare to call him?
“I’ll try,” I said inanely. “I just know how busy you are, and well, I don’t want to bother you.”
“Listen, Margaret,” Alan said in his inimical voice. “I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t mean for you to use it, all right?”
We chatted for several more minutes until he had to go. He promised he’d be in touch the minute he got to Minnesota which nearly gave me a heart attack. I hadn’t thought he was serious when he said he wanted to be friends, but apparently he was. I said goodbye in a dreamy voice, not caring that I was giving something away. I knew I’d have to be damn careful when he came into town, but I could dream, couldn’t I? There was no harm in that. I knew I was playing with fire, but I just didn’t give a damn.
“So, the Brit is coming back into your life, is he?” It was Lucifer, of course, and he was glaring at me. I was glad I had changed into sweats as soon as I got home so I wouldn’t be as appealing. Then again, it was easier access, something I did not need to think about.
“He has a name, you know,” I said dispiritedly. I wasn’t in the mood to fence with Lucifer as I wanted to savor my phone call with Alan.