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“Is he ready to go?” Carrie asked as I opened the door to her. She was a tall woman, very imposing in stature, and clearly already agitated. “We have to get to the airport.” She strode past me, into the living room. Two large men followed her, grabbed Orlando’s luggage from the floor by the sofa, and left again.

“He’s just in the bedroom,” I said, heading in that direction. “I’ll get him.”

“Thanks.” She sounded more annoyed than grateful.

“Orlando, Carrie’s here with the car,” I said, closing the door to the bedroom behind me. “And she seems pissed off.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said, tucking his cell phone into his carry-on. “She’s wound a little tight. I’ll be glad when she’s not working for me anymore.” He zipped his bag and came over to me. “I think I’m all set here, love,” he said, his tone considerably gentler.

“Here we go again,” I sighed as he took me in his arms. “Where exactly are you going?”

“Los Angeles,” he said. “For the premiere this weekend at Disneyland, and then I’m all over the place. I’ll let you know as soon as I do where exactly I’ll be.”

“You’d better,” I said, hugging him to me. I didn’t want to let go, and as I breathed him in and felt him against me, I felt the lump in my throat start. “Damn it,” I hissed into his neck. “I want to go to the airport with you.”

“I thought we’d decided that wasn’t a good idea,” he said, molding my body to him.

“I don’t care,” I said, pulling back slightly to look at him. “I want the extra few minutes that will give us.”

“Let me check with Carrie, okay?” he said. “I need to make sure they haven’t arranged for a crowd to meet me there. My PR people are pulling out all the stops with this, and I don’t want you to get hurt by it.”

I unwillingly let him go, and followed him back to the living room. Carrie was standing exactly where I left her, her arms folded over her entirely-too-thin frame. She looked beyond pissed.

“We’re late,” she said, checking her watch and heading to the door.

“Charlie’s coming with us,” Orlando said, going from soft and romantic with me, to in-control and firm with her. The change was intensely sexy, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. “Just to the airport.”

“That should have been cleared with Robin last night,” Carrie said, her eyes flashing. She didn’t seem to care who he was, or that he was her boss. She didn’t give the impression that she’d back down. “There are to be no deviations today, remember?”

“I don’t give a damn,” he said, taking my hand. He gave it an almost imperceptible squeeze. We made for the door, striding past Carrie, who looked ready to spit nails, especially at me. I just kept my head down and followed Orlando downstairs, to the car.

“That woman is scary,” I said when we were safely sequestered in the backseat of the car, the partition firmly up and Carrie held at bay on the other side. “Why is she necessary?”

He rolled his eyes. “My PR team has arranged some organized chaos at the airport, to get my picture in the papers and my name in print, because we’re opening the movie soon. She’s here to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.” He shrugged and slipped his arm around my shoulders. “You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you, love,” he whispered against my hair.

I snuggled against him and tried to push the guilt from my stomach. My fight with Adam was still very much on my mind, and I was finding myself somewhat relieved that Orlando was going away, even though I’d miss him like crazy. I had to put everything with Adam behind me before Orlando came back, so we could sit down and get it all out in the open, including the resolution. What that was, however, I wasn’t sure of yet.

“I love you,” I whispered, my head on his shoulder, gripping his shirt with one hand and his knee with the other. I felt so sad and so conflicted, I was afraid I’d get sick with it.

“I know you do, darling,” he said, smiling at me. “When I get back from all this, we’ll move into our new flat, and we’ll have a bit of a break, okay?”

I nodded. We had already decided I wasn’t going to move into our new place while he was gone, since I didn’t want to live there alone, but we’d move in together when he came back. With that in mind, I shifted so I was straddling his lap, and took his face in my hands.

“How am I going to be without you, even for a few weeks?” I said, tears welling in my eyes as I looked at him. Panic gripped me, along with a wave of sadness, starting in my stomach, and spreading over the rest of me. “Orlando, I can’t do this again,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and shoulders and clinging to him. The tears started to roll down my face, onto his neck.

“It won’t be as hard as you think,” he soothed, his hands moving over my back in comforting circles. “You’ll be busy with the show, I’ll be busy with work, and before you know it, the time will have flown by.” He eased his hands up to cup my face and force me to look at him. “This hurts me, too, darling, don’t ever think it doesn’t. But I tell myself what I have to in order to get through it.”

I sniffled at bit as he kissed my lips gently. “I know this is dumb,” I said, shaking my head slightly. “I just can’t help it. I was getting used to having you around. I’d forgotten just how shitty this really is.”

He didn’t say anything, just kissed me, a hard, passionate kiss, and before long I felt his tears mingle with mine. He was crushing me against him as though he’d never let me go, and my grip on his hair must have been painful, but neither of us cared. I loved him, loved every part of him, and I was going to take what I could get before he left me again.

“Charlie, we can’t do this now,” he panted against my neck as I reached for his jeans. “There’s no time.” Even as he said it, he slid my shirt down my arms.

“I don’t care,” I said, not slowing my hands one bit. His hand grabbed the back of my head and brought me to him for another crushing kiss, and it didn’t take long for us to be panting and writhing together, not caring that we were in the back of a car, heading to the airport where hundreds of screaming girls would be waiting. This time there was no faking anything, and we were both sweaty and exhausted by the end.

As we straightened our clothes and regained control over our breathing, the car slowed considerably, and suddenly there were people grabbing at the car. The volume increased as the girls realized who we were.

“Good timing,” I said, zipping my jeans. “And thank God the windows are blacked out.” I smiled at the satisfied look on Orlando’s face.

He chuckled and pulled me into a hug. “Now I really don’t want to go,” he said, an underlying sadness in his contented voice. He sighed as the girls got rowdier.

The partition slid down, opening us to the driver and Carrie.

“Get ready, Orlando,” she said sternly. “You’re going to jump out and run right to the first class lounge. You’re all clear with security already.”

“Ready, love?” he said to me.

“No, Orlando, just you,” Carrie said, shooting an annoyed glance at me. “We don’t have clearance for Charlotte.”

“I don’t board for another half an hour,” Orlando said, getting angry himself. “Charlie can wait with me until I get on the plane. It’s that simple.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, patting his leg lightly. “I don’t need to go. They want pictures of you for the papers, not you and your girlfriend.”

“Exactly,” Carrie said, exasperated.

“I don’t care,” he said, shaking his head. “And it’s my decision.”

“Fine, but you can explain it to Robin and Aleen when the tabloids are full of the pictures of the two of you,” she said, shrugging. “Especially pictures that look like you’ve just had sex in the back of a car.”

My face went hot immediately and I couldn’t look at her. I don’t think either of us had thought of that. I know I certainly didn’t.

“She’s got a point, Orlando,” I said, giving him a worried look. “You know how brutal those rags are. We don’t need you getting any bad publicity right now. I’ll just stay in the car, and you can call me when you land.”

He hesitated and gave me a once-over. “You don’t look like you’ve just had sex,” he said firmly. “And neither do I. I want you to come with me.”

“Fine,” Carrie almost huffed, glancing out the windows. “Whatever you’re doing, make up your mind. You two need to jump in about a minute.” She put the partition up again, anger on her face.

“This isn’t a good idea,” I said as Orlando fixed his ponytail and ran his hand over his face to clear the last of our sweat and tear stains. I ran my hands through my own hair, tucking it behind my ears. “I probably look like a raccoon, and we’re all disheveled.”

He smiled as he gently wiped my face with the underside of the bottom of his black shirt. He ran a finger over my bottom lip and I kissed it out of habit.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, shifting to the door. “You look beautiful.” He offered me his hand, which I took, readying myself beside him. I was getting used to this.

As soon as the car stopped, the door opened, and we were greeted by screams and flashes, even though there was no red carpet. A group of men, including the two who’d taken Orlando’s luggage, surrounded us until the car pulled away and we were striding, hand-in-hand, toward the airport lounge. The girls were yelling Orlando’s name, and holding out pictures and autograph books, but they were tame compared to the photographers who swarmed us. It was rare that we appeared in such a public place together when there wasn’t an event. We weren’t very interesting as gossip material, but the fact that they’d been tipped off made the paparazzi think there was more of a story than there actually was. I clung to Orlando’s hand and kept my head down.

Half way to the lounge, however, the nice guy in Orlando kicked in, and he decided he needed to stop and sign autographs. I was hustled forward by the bodyguards, even though I tried to get back to him. The chaos swallowed him up, and all I could do was wait it out.

I paced the lounge, which had been emptied for Orlando’s privacy, waiting for him to come. I could see the crowd of girls and photographers still buzzing around him, and every once in awhile I caught a glimpse of him. He was in his glory, with Carrie by his side, directing everything.

By the time he made it back to me, there were only a few minutes until he had to get on the plane. I tried not to be upset, he was just doing his job, after all.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, hugging me as Carrie closed the door on the photographers. “I just can’t resist them sometimes.”

I smiled. “I know, that’s why they love you,” I said. “So many girls, so little time, right?” Despite myself, I was jealous that he’d chosen to spend our last bit of time together with people he didn’t even know. I knew how stupid and selfish that was, but I didn’t care.

“Don’t be like that, Charlie,” he whispered, in that voice he knew I couldn’t resist. “This whole trip was a publicity stunt, so I have to do as I’m asked.”

“I know,” I said, trying to push the dumb thoughts from my head. “You’d better get on your plane.”

He kissed me, and he wasn’t nearly as urgent as he’d been in the car, but it was loving and deep nonetheless.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips. And then he was gone. I sat down on one of the chairs in the lounge, buried my head in my hands, and cried.

When the tears had stopped, I followed Carrie to the car and went home. The ride was quiet, soothing, and when I got home, I felt as close to normal as I could without Orlando around.

I spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies, trying to relax a bit before I had to go to work that night. Seeing Adam was going to be the hardest part, and I knew I’d have to fight extra hard to keep my performance from suffering. I planned to talk to him after the show, to straighten things out as best I could.

When I got to work, I couldn’t help the tension I felt. I went through the motions, the warm-up, make-up, the performance, and by the end, I was exhausted. I hardly knew the man I was on stage with that night, since he’d become so cold and distant. The audience didn’t pick up on it, thank goodness, but I certainly did. The tender looks, the secret smiles, all of it was gone, and I was left with a stranger.

After the show, I waited by his dressing table for him to come out of the change rooms. I didn’t have to wait long.

“What do you want?” he said, his voice quiet, but hard and cold. “I don’t have time for you.”

I took a deep breath to clear the sting of his words. “We need to talk,” I said, searching his face for some shred of kindness or love. There was nothing there but distaste.

“I don’t see why,” he said, almost shoving me out of the way so he could grab his wallet and jacket from his dressing table. “I think it’s pretty clear that there’s nothing left to say.”

“You know that’s not true,” I said, putting my hand on his arm to stop him from walking away from me. “Please, we need to go somewhere and sort this out.”

He yanked his arm away from me. “There’s nothing to sort out, Charlie,” he said, putting on his jacket. “I meant what I said last night, and no amount of ass-kissing from you is going to change that.”

“Why do you feel the need to be so cruel about this?” I said, willing myself not to cry. “I’m just trying to talk to you, like a friend, and you’re constantly being rude and nasty. What did I ever do to deserve that?”

“You’re really blind to the kind of person you are, aren’t you, Charlie?” he snapped, putting both hands on the back of his chair and leaning toward me. I involuntarily took a step back at the look on his face.

“And what kind of person is that?” I dared to ask.

“A selfish person who thinks it’s okay to fuck with a guy’s head and heart, and then expect to be his friend.”

“That’s bullshit,” I said, refusing to let his words hurt me anymore. “You’re the one who told me that no matter what happened with Orlando, you and I would still be friends, remember? You’re the one who said you didn’t want a commitment, that you knew you’d always be second best. You’re the one who changed his mind about going to London, and is now expecting me to go, when, let’s face it, Wicked is my fucking show more so than it will ever be yours. So who’s selfish here, Adam? I think you’d better re-direct that statement, because when it’s aimed at me, it’s a crock of shit.”

“Did you really believe it was going to be easy to just be your friend after you rejected me for Orlando?” he said, his voice rising. The few people who were left backstage started to stare at us.

“Either keep your voice down, or let’s go somewhere more private to talk about this,” I said, glancing around.

“Fine, let’s go to my place,” he snapped. “There’ll be no one there to hear your shit.”

“I was thinking more like a coffee shop or something,” I said, uneasy at the thought of going back to his place.

“How is that more private than here?”

I sighed, giving in. “Fine,” I said. I followed him out of the theatre.

A short time later, the cab pulled up in front of his building and we went inside. I felt awkward when he led me into the living room, like I just didn’t belong there, and I stood in the middle of the room while he took his jacket off and got himself a beer from the fridge. He didn’t even offer me anything.

“Are you at least going to sit down?” he said, flopping down on the sofa himself.

I perched on the edge of a chair across from him, and took off my own jacket.

“Okay, you asked me if I thought being my friend would be easy for you, right?” I said, wanting to get this over with. He looked more relaxed now, less angry, less bitter, and I hoped that boded well for me.

“Right.”

“I knew it wouldn’t be a piece of cake, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said. “But it was never my intention to hurt you the way you hurt me last night. You know what we had was more than just sex. I thought we had an understanding about that.”

“At the time, it was amazing,” he admitted, setting his beer on the end table beside him. “But now, it seems to be more trouble than it’s worth. That’s why one of us needs to leave, and since you don’t have the ties to New York that I do, it seems only fair that you be the one to go.”

“Like I said before, Wicked is more my show than it will ever be yours,” I said, getting angry again. “I’m the star, remember? I’m the one everyone wants to see. Your part is small in comparison to mine, and you’re asking me to give it up for one that’s not even close to what I already have.”

“My kids mean more to me than any show,” he said, his tone bitter.

“And my career means more to me than any feud with you,” I said, matching his bitterness.

“You are so fucking selfish, it’s ridiculous,” he fumed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes bore into me. “I never in a million years thought you’d act this way. If I had, there would have been nothing between us.”

“And if I had known you were going to be such an asshole, I’d have saved myself the headache and gone back to Orlando right away,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “The bottom line here is that I’m not going anywhere, Adam. It’s that simple.”

“How can we ever continue to work together if things are going to be as tense and cold as they were tonight?”

He had a point, but I wasn’t going to let him force me out of my show. “You’re just going to have to grow up, then, aren’t you?” I spat.

Suddenly he seemed to crumble where he sat, and he buried his face in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, then looked at me again, tears in his eyes.

“You’re not getting it, are you?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t do the show with you each night without wanting to take you home afterwards, the way Orlando gets to. And that wanting is very obvious to my wife, who insists that our marriage will never work as long as you’re around.”

“That’s not really my problem, now is it?” I said, trying not to feel sorry for him. I understood where he was coming from, but it just wasn’t anything to do with me. Why should I have to leave because of his issues?

“Charlie, tell me you still feel something for me,” he whispered, dropping to his knees in front of my chair. “Tell me I’m not alone in this.”

“I can’t tell you that, Adam,” I said, drawing back from him. I couldn’t look him in the eye because I knew it would hurt too much. “I want to be your friend, and that’s all I feel for you now.”

“You’re lying,” he said, rubbing the top of my leg, near my knee. “I can see it all over your face.”

I shook my head. “I’m not lying,” I said, though I wasn’t so sure. “I’m not getting into this again. You’re going to have to deal with whatever you feel on your own, or with your wife. I’m not part of that anymore.”

“But you are, and that’s what you’re not understanding,” he said, sitting back on his heels. His hands never left my knees.

“Can’t you get another job here in the city?” I said, focusing on a spot just over his shoulder. “Lord knows there are enough shows running.”

“I’ve tried, and nothing’s open for another month or so,” he said. “I don’t want to quit Wicked, and if I’m honest with myself, I don’t want you to, either, but that’s what needs to happen for either one of us to get on with our lives.”

I pushed him back and stood up, moving so that I was at least four feet away from him. I steeled myself and looked in his eyes.

“Charlie,” he said, my name becoming a plea as his voice cracked with emotion. I could tell he was fighting to stay in control, to hold to his convictions, but he was losing the battle.

“No,” I said, putting my hands out in front of me to prevent him from coming any closer. “I refuse to leave. I’m not changing my mind.” I took a deep breath. “You’ll just have to make your decisions based on me staying here. And if your wife doesn’t like it, too damned bad.” I couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into those last words.

“Do you think I want to make my marriage work when I’m not fully interested in my wife?” he said, picking up on my tone. Other than Orlando, Adam knew me better than anyone, even Lisa, and that was working to his advantage now.

“Why does it have to be either or?” I said. “Why can’t you just be alone for now?”

“Because I do love her, Charlie,” he said, turning away from me. He started pacing. “That’s what I’m having problems with. When you’re not around, I absolutely want to be with her. But when we’re together on stage, I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you, and that sucks.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment, his unasked question hanging between us, his back to me.

“I can’t do anything about what you’re feeling,” I whispered after the silence had stretched for far too long. “You know that.”

He faced me again, tears in his eyes. “Damn it, Charlie, this is why I didn’t want to talk to you tonight,” he said. “I’m not ready to dissect every little thing I’m feeling. I need some time where I don’t have to talk to you.”

“Okay, fair enough,” I said, grabbing my jacket and heading to the door. “But do me a favor?”

“What’s that?” He looked wary.

“Keep your personal shit out of the show,” I said, opening the door. “Regardless of what’s going on between you and me, we owe our audiences the best show possible.”

“Just remember that,” he said, coming over to me. I left and he closed the door behind me.