Lovely Linda

Chapter 2: Meet

Linda glanced in the window of a car parked on the street, making sure her hair and makeup still looked alright. She stepped up the stairs towards the average-looking apartment then checked the address Jane had written again.
Yes, this was it.
Oh why am I here? This is such a big mistake! He's gonna laugh in my face or maybe he's not home or maybe he is but he won't open up or maybe worse things could happen... I should go home. I should turn around and leave right now. But... I promised Jane. Alright, well here goes...
Despite her second thoughts, Linda pulled herself together and took a few shaky breaths before knocking on the door. After three shy knocks, she stepped back, expecting the door to swing open.
However, three minutes later there was still no response. Linda noticed a doorbell and scolded herself internally for being so dumb. She moved her trembling hand to the button and pushed. She had no idea why she was so nervous.
The American girl jumped back at the sound of barking and was startled to see a giant mop jumping at the door. Soon after, a tall man with dark shaggy hair swung the door open and held the dog back.
"Who're ye and what d'ye want?!" growled the man, while inspecting her up and down. "Are ye a reporter of some sort? Have ye somehow found me address and come to stalk me? Some crazy fangirl?!"
His voice increased in volume as he spoke and Linda took a step back and looked down.
"No sir, I'm Linda, Linda Eastman. I am-"
"Get to it! What do ye want?!" he cut her off and she stood frozen. She noted the strong smell of alcohol in his breath.
"Get off my porch" he said in a cold voice as he began to shut the door.
Linda quickly jammed her foot in the door just before it slammed.
Owww!
"No wait! I'm here on behalf of Jane!" she called before he walked away. He stopped at the mention of her name, keeping his back turned. "I need to speak to Mr. Paul McCartney if you please.."
The man grinned and turned, inviting her in.
"Yer in luck little miss, he's home today."
"Really? May I speak with him?"
"I s'ppose so. But I think ye mean me," the man replied, brushing his hair aside and looking her in the eyes.
The blond's eyes widen as she stared in amazement. She could've sworn she caught a glimpse of something in his eyes. She lost her balance and Paul caught her elbow.
What? ...no. It can't be! Oh boy, but it is... Pull yourself together Linda!
"Y-you're Paul M-McCartney!"
"That I am," he chuckled at her reaction. "Take a seat 'ere lady."
He led her over to a couch that she plopped down on. She shook her head and fixed her skirt.
"So... Uh.. Jane. I'm here on behalf of Jane Asher."
"Oh yes my little love bird. 'ow is she doin?"
Linda frowned at him.
These stuck up famous people. Thinking they own everything. Ugh.
"She's not yours anymore Mr. McCartney."
Paul made a face then raised his eyebrows and laughed.
"Oh she isn't? All business are we, miss....?"
"Eastman."
"Ah yes, Miss Eastman. So what's a pretty American bird like ye doin 'ere in Liverpool?"
"Look, I'm not here for small talk. I'm here to speak for Jane and say that what you did to her was wrong. Very very wrong. You hurt her bad an now she's striking back. She's gonna tell the media and your reputation will be ruined. This is the price you pay for being unfaithful."
Paul laughed and waved his hand around as though her words had no meaning.
"Ruin my reputation? As if sweetie. I could announce that I'm a serial killer and still make the top charts. Now me being single will only enthuse my fans more. If anythin, she's doin me a favor!"
By now, Linda was fuming. She jumped out of her seat and pointed an accusing finger at him.
"You have some nerve! You break a girl's heart and laugh it off as if it has no meaning! Well we'll see about that Mr. McCartney!"
She turned on her heel and began to storm out when he grabbed her hand. She tried to ignore the tingling feeling in her fingers and still stared straight at the door.
"Now wait a minute miss Eastman," he pleaded with her. "Let's not be so rash. Can't we talk it over? I'll make ye a cuppa sometime. I mean, ye already know where I live."
She smiled and looked down at her toes. Linda pulled her hand away and shook her head.
He's sweet... I can see why so many girls fall for his false charm. No, remember the motive! Jane Jane Jane Jane...
"No I'm sorry Mr. McCartney-"
"Please, call me Paul."
"..Paul. I really can't. I'm here to tell you why you shouldn't just take any girl in sight, not the opposite. I'm sorry. I appreciate your kindness."
He sighed and scratched the back of his head.
"At least tell Jane that next time she ought to talk to me herself, will ye?"
Linda winced, already feeling her friend's melancholy, but nodded slowly. She began walking towards the door when he pulled her arm again.
"Ahh! What-!? Paul, what now?"
He whipped out a pen and messily wrote some numbers on her arm.
"For ye to call me later," he said with a wink.
She blushed and looked down, trying to hide behind her hair. He tucked it behind her ear and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Her face burned of redness and she tightened her grip on her purse. Paul looked ready to lean in again, but before he could she placed one finger on his lips to stop him.
"Nice try McCartney. We'll see if we meet again."
"Is that a maybe?"
She shrugged. "It's up to fate."
He pouted and whined.
"Fate don't know what I want. Or what ye want either."
"It isn't about what you want. That's the hardest part about life. Now I must bid you adieu Mr. McCartney!"
She blew him a kiss and curtsied. He pretended to be enchanted and bowed back. Linda giggled as she ran out the door.
Paul sighed and laid back on the couch. Staring at the ceiling, he wondered if he'd ever see that blond American girl again before he fell into a deep sleep.