~*~*~*~ All the world 's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts. ~*~*~*~

"Earth to Phoebe!" Sarah rolled her eyes when I finally snapped to attention. "Okay, girl, you seriously need to talk about whatever is bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me," I lied and straightened my wrinkle-free work shirt just to avoid her eyes. Sarah, as the master of lying and deception, could always tell when I was lying.

And apparently it had nothing to do with eye contact, because she slapped my arm. "No sell. Come on, let's hear it."

Glancing around to make sure that no customers were drawing near to the counter, I turned to face her, lowering my voice to just above a whisper. "Okay, so, this past weekend, there was a charity event at the Ezras-"

"The Ezras?" she asked, interrupting. "The super old rich couple that seems to always be sick but won't just die?"

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Sarah to be blunt. "Yes, those Ezras. But that's not the point. The point is that I didn't want to be around the actual party anymore and so I wandered off-"

"I don't see why you don't stick around these parties," she interrupted again. "There's always some news story about them, so I know they have to be exciting. But I suppose you're more content to just sit around and read boring literature."

"Classics," I corrected her and gave a pointed glance to the library where we both worked (though with Sarah it was more of a have to kind of thing). "Anyway, that's not the point either. The point is that when I walked away, I tripped over a-"

She laughed, once again interrupting me. "Of course you tripped over something! Gosh, Phoebe, you have to be one of the clumsiest people I know!"

That wasn't true; I was only clumsy part of the time, especially when it was dark. "Will you quit interrupting me?" I snapped.

Nodding, she fell silent, though a laughing light still danced in her green eyes. "Sorry, continue with your story, please."

"Anyway, so I tripped over something and then I was caught by this.. super gorgeous guy." I could think of no other way to describe Adrian than that. "We talked for a few minutes, but Sarah, he quoted Shakespeare."

Her mouth fell open, and I knew that it wasn't just in mockery of me and my excitement. "Wait… a guy that was actually gorgeous quoted Shakespeare to you. Like, well?"

I relayed the conversation so that she could hear exactly how well, and I left her speechless for a moment. "You speechless… that's a first."

"You taking notice of a gorgeous guy is also a first," she responded. "You have to tell me everything. What's his name?"

"Adrian," I said. "Adrian Taylor."

"Doesn't really ring a bell," she said after a moment. It wouldn't for her; she wasn't a part of the high society. "He must not be in the tabloids much."

"Probably not. He was away from the circle of the party, so he obviously tries to stay out of the limelight."

"Another trait you have in common," she pointed out with a wink, tossing her straight blond hair over her shoulder. "So, when are you seeing him again?"

I felt myself blushing. Because I so desperately wanted to. "We're not dating, Sarah. We just shared a little moment at a party. He probably doesn't even remember me."

"Well, you obviously remember him, and I'm going to go ahead and say that is leaps ahead of where you normally are. I need to meet this guy who has caused miracles to happen."

It was my turn to slap her arm. "Stop."

"Hold on," she said as a group of small children approached her section of the desk. "I'll check these people out and then I want to hear some more about this Adrian Taylor." She moved away, pasting on a wide smile for the children and their parents.

I watched her for a moment, until a voice near me said, "Excuse me, I was wondering if I could acquire some assistance?"

That voice… I turned and nearly gasped when I saw that it was Adrian standing near the desk, hands casually in the pockets of his black slacks. He wore a crisp white shirt that somehow showed off his muscular arms and chest, and I could now see that his eyes were blue, so help me God. His artfully messy dark hair was the same as it had been the night of the party, as if he had just jumped out of the shower and decided that he was good to go.

He smiled when he saw me looking. "What a pleasant surprise, Miss Grey. I happened to be in this portion of town and decided that I would like to check out the library. You work here?"

"Volunteer," I nearly gasped, my voice suddenly unable to work. "My father doesn't want me to get a job." Why get a job when he could just hand me whatever money that I needed? But Mother had convinced him to let me volunteer at the library, thankfully.

"Ah," he said and then gestured behind him. "I needed some help. I don't suppose you would happen to be available?"

I could hardly imagine him needing help in a library, but I obediently stepped out from behind the desk and moved in the direction that he had indicated. We moved along and didn't stop until we reached the poetry section. There, he paused and perused a few titles. "What do you recommend, Miss Grey?"

Put on the spot, I suddenly found my mind growing blank, so I went back to my traditional response. "Shakespeare."

He smiled, then, the first true smile that I thought I'd seen from him. "Why am I not surprised?" From the shelf, he pulled out a volume of Shakespeare's sonnets. "A favorite, Miss Grey?"

"I could no sooner choose a favorite star in the sky," I told him and moved closer to the shelf, right beside him, scanning the titles. So many good poets, and yet the poetry section seemed to be the least visited.

"Tell me more about you, Phoebe Grey," he said, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching as I distractedly picked a book from the shelf.

"There's not much to tell," I said softly. What could I possibly say that would interest him? He had probably traveled the world, had been subjected to all that life had to offer someone his age, and I'd only been outside of Seattle on family vacations. And even then, I'd been too closely watched by my father to have much fun.

"I doubt that," he said and stepped closer, so close that I could smell his delicious cologne. "We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows."

"Robert Frost," I breathed. I felt like all of my thought processes were slowing down. Jeez, why couldn't I look cute today? I was wearing a library T-shirt and a pair of jeans that were fading but that I'd yet to throw away. And my hair was thrown up into a sloppy ponytail, while my face was decorated with nearly zero makeup. "Very good, Mr. Taylor."

"I believe it's your turn, Miss Grey. Quote Frost, or give me a fact about yourself. I would quite prefer the latter, if you don't mind." He was right behind me, not touching me, but oh how I wanted him to.

"I… I'm not all that interesting," I breathed. "I have a brother. He's two years older than me. Ted. That's his name."

"Are you close?"

"Who? Oh, Ted." I felt myself flush. "Yes, we're close. He's in college at Harvard right now, but we keep in touch nearly every day."

"What a special relationship to have," he commented. "I always wanted siblings. But I suppose my parents didn't want to mess with perfect." His teasing tone was an aphrodisiac.

"Apparently mine didn't, either," I commented. "I'm the youngest." That was actually because my mother had experienced complications with me that destroyed her ability to have children, but he didn't need to know that.

"Well, aren't we special?" he murmured softly. Just when I was beginning to lean back into him, he had moved from behind me to stand a few feet away, examining titles once more. When did he put up the volume of Shakespeare? "Any favorites aside from Shakespeare, Miss Grey?"

The names were back, flowing freely from my mouth, a river. "Coleridge, Tennyson, Wordsworth, Bronte, Poe, Cummings, Whitman…" I broke off so that I could catch my breath.

He smiled, almost to himself, and nodded. "Excellent choices. Wilde, Hemmingway…"

"Yeats, Blake…" I countered.

He chuckled, facing me. "Cohen, Sexton…"

"Carroll, Emerson…"

"Rumi, Hughes…"

I was about to respond, but then I heard Sarah's voice calling for me. Not wanting her to discover me with him, I felt myself beginning to panic.

"Relax," Adrian said with a short laugh. "I'm certain I'll see you around, Miss Grey." In a gallant gesture, he took my hand, bent, and pressed his lips to my knuckles, making me lose all of my breath. When he straightened, he winked and offered me a wide grin. "Until then, Miss Grey."

"Until then," I breathed, and he ducked around the corner just as Sarah came into view.

"There you are!" she said. "A huge crowd just came in. We have to go."

"Sure." I brushed past her, eager to hide my blush.