Page 95 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
EPILOGUE ONE – Eddie
June 7th, 10:45 a.m.
“Hey babe. We just finished with the script read-through, so I should be able to meet you for lunch. It went incredibly well—I can’t even believe I get to work with these people. And it’s all because of you.
Oh, and one of my costars would like to speak to you. Hang on…”
“Hello, darling… Oh, it’s an answerphone message? Yes, hello, Birdie Beckett. This is Benedict Cumberbatch. I hear you’re a fan, and I just want to say that the exquisite taste you display in English actors clearly does not extend to your taste in boyfriends. I mean, how many abs does this guy have, like six? Come on. You can do better. He does have a fantastic butt. However, I will tell you that my hands are significantly larger than his. Just saying.
Seriously, it’s a great honor to be working with Sir Edward McFancyFace. Bit of a diva, but I think we can all learn a lot from him—especially Hiddleston and Cavill. They had to leave right after the reading, but I’m quite sure you’ll be meeting them soon.”
(muffled in background) “No you won’t, babe!”
“Right, then. I look forward to becoming great friends with you… The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street… Your boyfriend wants to speak with you again.”
“Seriously? You still consider Cumberbatch to be a sex word after that nonsense? See you at lunch. Love you, bye.”
