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I sat on the floor for what felt like hours, but what was in reality only about 15 minutes. My mind went blank, and I couldn’t think about anything. It had all happened so fast, and I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, other than Orlando had left and there was nothing I could do about it. I was just contemplating getting up off the floor when someone knocked at the door.

I dragged myself to my feet and opened it. Cooper was standing in the doorway, holding a CD in his hands.

“I forgot to give you this. Hey, Charlie, what’s the matter?” he said, gathering me up in his arms. I sagged against him and let the tears really fall again. He led me over to the sofa and sat me down, then knelt down on the floor in front of me. “Tell me what happened, kiddo,” he said.

“Orlando left,” I managed to choke out. My voice was raw and hoarse from crying, a far cry from even half an hour earlier when it had been strong and rich and pure. “Just like that, he left.”

“Why?”

The whole story of the last few weeks came spilling out, all in a rush, as I told him everything that had happened, stopping only when sobs overtook me. I didn’t think it would hurt as much as it did to say good-bye to Orlando, but I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. By the end, Cooper was sitting beside me, rocking me gently back and forth as I cried.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked, smoothing my hair out of my face. “Honey, you need to talk to him.”

“But what’s the point?” I said, shoving away from him. “What difference does it make if we do this now or ten days from now? It’s all going to end the same way.”

“It doesn’t have to, you know,” he said. “You could always try the long-distance thing.”

I sniffled and grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table. “That never works,” I said as I blew my nose. “Instead of crying over not being with him at all, I’d be crying over not being able to spend time with him. How is that better?”

“You’re not going to be in New York forever, and he’s not going to be doing whatever he’s doing either,” Cooper pointed out. “Things will settle down eventually. Try it, what’s the harm?”

I got up and started pacing. What he’d said made sense, but it was too late. Orlando was gone and I didn’t know how to reach him. I hadn’t even written down his cell phone number. I said as much to Cooper.

“What does that matter?” he said, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. “We know he’ll be at the press conference for his movie, right? Why can’t you just go there and see him? We can always go online and find out when it is.”

“It’s Sunday,” I said, somewhat absentmindedly. The wheels in my head were already turning. “The movie itself is tomorrow night. He’ll be at that, too.”

“If you want to go, I’ll take you,” he said. “You can’t just let this go, Charlie, you know you can’t. Anyone who can inspire emotion like that in you is someone you should really keep around.”

“I don’t even know how this happened,” I sighed. “One minute, I’m feeling all these things I’ve never felt before, and the next minute, I’m telling him to leave. I can’t blame him for being upset. I would be, too.”

“And he didn’t say anything as he left?”

“Not a word, other than good-bye.”

“Ouch.”

“Tell me about it.” I pushed aside the hurt that I was feeling. “Okay, what do we have to do before we leave?”

“Pack a bag, and book a hotel room.” Cooper grimaced. “Although, everything will be pretty much booked with the film festival in town.”

“We’ll sleep in the car if we have to,” I said, determined. “Actually, wait a minute.” I went into my bedroom and came back with a piece of paper. “This is Orlando’s hotel information for when he’s in the city.”

“Is there a phone number on there?”

“Yes, his direct line to his room,” I said, unable to believe I’d forgotten about it. “He gave it to me so I could give it to Dad for when we were gone.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Half an hour or so.” I looked at the paper in my hand as though it were made of gold. Maybe all wasn’t lost after all. “He should be there in about an hour.”

“And we could be there half an hour after that,” Cooper said.

“Do you think he’ll talk to me?”

“How would I know, kiddo?” he said, chuckling. “I met the man this afternoon, and spoke all of five words to him. I’m hardly an expert on him.”

“Jerk,” I said, going back into my room. “Just let me get cleaned up and we’ll go, okay? I don’t want to be a tear-stained mess when I see him.”

I took off what was left of my make-up and re-applied new, then I brushed out my hair and pulled it up at the sides, with the shortest layer hanging around my face. I changed my blouse, as it was wrinkled from my time on the floor, and put on a dark green tank top and matching jacket. When I came out in to the living room again, Cooper was ready and waiting to go.

We were in the parking lot, just about to get into Cooper’s truck, when a car pulled in the driveway. I stopped dead. It was Orlando. Cooper was already in the truck, but I froze, waiting to see what happened. I watched as Orlando parked the car and started toward the building. He hadn’t seen me.

“Cooper, that’s him,” I said, finally able to speak. I sat on the seat beside him. “He came back.”

“Of course he did, sweetheart,” Cooper said, smiling. “Are you going to sit there, or are you going to go in there and get him? I mean, you were ready to go to Toronto after him, what’s the few steps to your apartment?”

“But what do I say?”

“You don’t know?”

“I was going to figure that out on the drive,” I said, panic rising in my chest. “If I say the wrong thing, I’ll blow it.”

“Then just tell him the truth.” He stopped. “Charlie, it’ll be okay.”

Before I could say anything else, Orlando came back out of the building, and he looked upset. He got back into his car, but he didn’t start the engine, he just sat there. I watched him for a few agonizing seconds, knowing I should go to him.

“Go,” Cooper said. That one word was all I needed. I grabbed my purse from the seat and bolted from the truck. I ran across the parking lot to Orlando’s car.

He didn’t see me at first, he was hunched over the steering wheel, with his head in his hands. But when he finally did look up, his expression turned to shock. I backed up and he got out of the car.

“You came back,” I said, stating the obvious. It was such a dumb thing to say, but I couldn’t help it. I thought maybe hearing it would make it real.

He looked at me, but didn’t say anything. He seemed so hurt, so unsure of whether he should be there or not. I didn’t know what to do, so I waited for him to speak.

“I got on the highway, and something kept telling me to come back,” he said at last. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“You don’t?” This wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be with me. But why was he here? I asked him.

“I need to know what happened here, Charlie,” he said. He sounded slightly annoyed. “I need to know why you suddenly wanted me to leave.”

“If I knew, I would tell you,” I said softly, looking at my hands. I couldn’t look him in the eye, I just couldn’t. What I’d said seemed so stupid to me now, so immature, but I wasn’t like that. I knew I wasn’t.

“Were you going somewhere?” he asked, taking in my outfit. He looked over the parking lot and saw Cooper sitting in the truck, watching us. “Where did he come from?”

“He showed up shortly after you left,” I said. “We were going to follow you to the hotel so I could make this right.”

“You were?”

“Yes, I was. I don’t want you to leave, I don’t want to stay behind, I just want to be with you, for however long we’ve got.” Tears started to trickle down my face, one at a time. “I’m sorry, this was so stupid. I just thought about how hard it would be to say good-bye, and it scared me. I’ve never felt like this before, and I don’t know what to do with it.”

For the first time he seemed to relax in front of me. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay? Do you want to go inside and talk about this?”

A small smile crept up at the corners of my mouth. I felt so relieved that he wasn’t going anywhere, at least not yet, that talking was the last thing on my mind.

“I think going inside is a good idea,” I said, trying to be coy. I took his hand, waved over my shoulder to Cooper, and led him inside.

This time there was no stopping, no tenderness, just urgency, passion, and need. Afterwards, I lay in his arms, my body sated, my mind at ease. I’d never felt so close to anyone before, and it was comforting as much as it was frightening. I kissed his fingers.

“Where did you get that scar on your back?” I asked, rolling over so I was facing him. I propped myself up on his chest.

“I fell a few years ago and broke my back,” he said, smoothing my hair off my face.

“Ouch,” I said, kissing his chest.

“It wasn’t a pleasant experience, no,” he said, chuckling slightly.

“Does it ever bother you?”

“Not so much anymore.” He began running his hands up and down my back. “It twinges every now and then.” He kissed me, gently. “We really should get going.”

I sighed and got up, though I was loathe to break contact with his skin, made sweaty by our endeavors, but warm and smooth nonetheless. “Okay, I guess we can,” I said, grabbing my clothes off the floor and putting them back on.

Half an hour later, we were in the car, on the highway, heading toward Toronto.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” I said, pulling my CD binder from the back seat. “I hate quiet rides.”

“Go ahead, love,” he said, squeezing my knee.

I flipped through the binder, trying to decide what I wanted to listen to. I like pretty much anything, but I have certain moods where I only want to listen to certain types of music. If it’s not what I want to listen to right then, I’ll turn the music off. I’ve always been that way, and my dad complains about it whenever we’re in the car and I turn off the radio. I finally settled on an old Roxette CD, one I hadn’t listened to in a long time. I slipped it in the CD player and turned up the volume.

Another annoying habit I have is not listening to the whole CD when I put it on. I like to flip around to different songs and I don’t always finish songs either. I began flipping through the CD, listening to only a sample of each song.

“Are you going to pick one?” Orlando asked finally, after four or five changes. He grinned over at me.

I smiled. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit flaky when it comes to music,” I said, willing myself not to change the song again. Of course, I didn’t like the song that was playing, but I didn’t dare touch it, I didn’t want to annoy him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, smiling. “I never pegged you as someone who listens to this.”

“I listen to everything, really,” I said, itching to change the song still. It was really bothering me. I began searching through the CD binder again, just to occupy myself. “What I want to listen to depends on what mood I’m in.”

“You don’t like this song, do you?” His grin grew wider.

“How’d you know?”

“You’re squirming,” he said, chuckling. “It’s really bothering you.”

“That obvious, huh?” I shook my head. “I tried to hide it, but you’re just too good for me, Bloom.” We laughed.

“Go ahead and change it, then, if it bothers you that much,” he said, rubbing my knee gently.

I changed the song, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the next one came on and it was one I actually liked. I settled back and closed my eyes, loving the feel of Orlando’s hand on my leg. I loved how affectionate he was, how he always found a reason to touch me. I felt like he really did care about me, like I was special, and that was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time, something I had sorely missed.

I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, Orlando was gently shaking my arm and we were in an underground parking lot, I assumed at the hotel.

“Charlie, love, we’re here,” Orlando said, taking off his seat belt.

I stretched and yawned. “I didn’t realize I was so tired,” I said, trying to fully wake up. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight,” he said, getting out of the car and coming around to open my door. I got out and helped him unload our bags from the trunk.

When we got into the hotel lobby, I was surprised at how many people were milling around. Some heads turned as we approached the desk, but luckily no one came over to us. I wasn’t sure how I would have handled that.

“Sign here, please,” the desk clerk said, sliding the check-in list across the counter. We both signed, Orlando took our room access card, and we headed for the elevator. As we were waiting, a camera flash went off, then another. Orlando put his head down and bolted inside the elevator when the door opened, so I did the same.

“Damn it,” he said, when the doors had closed safely behind us. We were the only ones in the elevator.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Paparazzi,” he said, sounding more than a little annoyed. “There’ll be pictures of us everywhere soon. I was hoping the hotel wouldn’t allow cameras in the lobby.”

“But there were only two flashes,” I pointed out. “Maybe they were fans.”

“Flashes that bright are very rarely fans,” he said. His face was twisted into an ugly sneer, one I had never seen before. “Thank God the floors have restricted access, otherwise we’d never get any peace.”

“Does that happen a lot?” I said, wanting nothing more than to take him in my arms and make him forget what he was angry about.

He nodded. “All the time, especially when I’m with a woman.”

I thought about all the pictures I’d seen in Deanna’s room. “Your fans just want pictures of you, that’s all,” I said.

“I know, and I don’t mind that,” he said, setting our bags on the floor. “It’s the photographers who get right in my face and are quite rude about it that I don’t like. I have nothing against having pictures taken for my fans, but there are times when I don’t want a camera following me around.”

“That’s understandable,” I agreed.

The elevator doors opened a few seconds later, and Orlando led me down the hall to our room. We hadn’t even thought of asking for two beds at the front desk. There just didn’t seem like a need now.

The suite was beautiful and spacious, everything one would expect for a movie star at a film festival, at least, at one as prestigious as the Toronto International Film Festival. There were two rooms, one a bedroom, and the other a sitting room. The carpet was so thick, our feet sank into it as we walked, and there was a mini bar on one wall, beside the French doors that led to the balcony overlooking the harbor. It was classy and sweet, just like Orlando.

I kicked off my sandals and began putting things away, while Orlando made the necessary phone calls to let his management team know he’d arrived. They hadn’t been pleased that he was spending the first two days at my apartment, but now that he was where they figured he should be, all was well again.

“I need an extra ticket to the premiere tomorrow night,” he was saying as I came back into the bedroom from putting some things in the bathroom. He paused for a few seconds, listening. “Because I do,” he said, starting to sound a bit aggravated. He rolled his eyes at me, then grinned to show he wasn’t aiming his frustration at me. I shook my head and began hanging up my clothes.

“It shouldn’t be this big a deal if the star of a movie wants an extra ticket for its premiere,” Orlando said a few minutes later. He was still on the phone, and he was getting more irritated by the second. “Just make sure there’s an empty seat beside mine, okay?” He hung up the phone.

“What was that about?” I asked, sitting across from him on the bed. “It didn’t sound good.”

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself. “Sometimes they give me such a hard time over the simplest things,” he said softly. “All I wanted was a seat for you at the premiere of the movie tomorrow night, but you’d swear I wanted an audience with the Prime Minister or something.”

“Why was there such a problem?”

“Because you’re a woman,” he said frankly. He looked very worn and tired all of a sudden, and it was unsettling. “My publicist will have to come up with a press release if we’re seen together, and they’re trying to play up a relationship between Kirsten and me to promote the movie.”

“It’s okay if they don’t want me to go,” I said, taking his hand. “I don’t want to make any more stress for you than you already have. I can just stay here until it’s over.”

“No, I want you there,” he said, squeezing my fingers. “There’ll be a seat for you, but you may have to go in the back way while I walk the red carpet and do the meet-and-greet.”

“That’s fine,” I said, wanting to reassure him that I understood. “Whatever is easiest for you is what we’ll do.”

“There have been so many things written lately that aren’t true, and I don’t want the press getting hold of this and turning it into something it’s not,” he said, pulling me into his arms and cuddling me close. He smelled so good, I could have stayed there forever. “We have to stay under the radar.”

“I know,” I said, playing with his fingers. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed, and I was sitting between his legs, leaning back against him, with his arms around me. He kissed my neck gently. I turned to face him and kissed him, arranging myself so I could wrap my arms around him. “It’ll all work out,” I whispered into his mouth as his hands slid up under my shirt and caressed my back. I knew as he kissed me and rolled me beneath him on the bed that, somehow, it really would all work out.