Page 18 of When Stars Collide (Chicago Stars 9)

“Flowers, boxes of expensive chocolates, champagne. I’ve tried to discourage him, but as you can see, it hasn’t worked.” She extracted a florist card from one of the arrangements, glanced at it, and set it back down.

“Rupert is one of your lovers?”

“One of legions.”

“Seriously?”

“No, not seriously! He’s at least seventy.”

Thad took in the flowers. “Am I the only one who thinks this is creepy?”

“You have to understand opera fans. They feel like a dying breed, and that can make them overzealous when it comes to their favorite singers.”

“Are there others like Rupert?”

“He’s my most ardent. As for the rest . . . It depends on the production. I’ve gotten Spanish shawls, cases of good rioja, even a few Iberian hams from the Carmen aficionados. And, of course, cigars.”

“Why cigars?”

“Carmen works in a cigar factory.”

“I know that.” He didn’t. “So what other weird gifts have your twisted superfans sent?”

“They’re passionate, not twisted, and I love every one of them. Silver scissors for Samson et Dalila.”

“Stay away from my hair.”

“Lots of Egyptian jewelry—scarab earrings and bracelets—because I sing Amneris in Aida. She’s the villain, but she has her reasons—unrequited love and all that. I’ve even gotten a silver hookah.” As an afterthought, she added, “Aida is set in Egypt.”

“I know that.” He did.

“Mozart fans have sent me more cherubs than I can count.”

“For?”

“Cherubino. We mezzos are famous for our breeches parts.”

“Women playing men?”

“Yes. Cherubino in Marriage of Figaro. He’s a horndog. Sesto in La clemenza di Tito. Hansel in Hansel and Gretel. My friend Rachel owns that role.”

“Hard to imagine

you playing a guy.”

“I pride myself.”

He smiled. Her passion for her work and loyalty to her fans were unmistakable. Passion was what drew him to people, their enthusiasm for their jobs or their hobbies—whatever gave their life joy and meaning, whether it was making a great marinara sauce, collecting Louisville Sluggers, or singing opera. Nothing bored him more than bored people. Life was too great for that.

She scratched the back of her calf with the toes of one grubby foot. “I’m sure you receive gifts.”

“I got a good deal on a Maserati.”

“I’ll have to mention that to Rupert. Anything else?”

“The occasional loan of a vacation home, plus more liquor than I can drink and too many restaurant meals comped. It’s ironic how often people who don’t need money get the breaks, while the ones who could use a helping hand come up empty.”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “Not exactly the viewpoint of an entitled jock.”

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