Prologue – Goodbye, Los Angeles

“Socks, check. Underwear, check. Hair brush, toothbrush, toothpaste, check. Lotion, check. Books for the flight, double check.”

She rummaged through her tidy bags and verbally checked off everything from her list of things she needed to pack. As usual, she was neat and methodical, with a full list in hand.

That's the way she preferred her entire life. A place for everything and everything in its place, as her Nana had always taught her. As a personal assistant by career, the philosophy had treated her well and kept a roof over her head. It wasn't a job that most people would choose, but she loved the work she did. It didn't hurt that the money was always good and work was steady here in Los Angeles.

But now she was moving back to her hometown of New York City. A fellow personal assistant and friend had recently given her two weeks notice to her boss, and Adeline was perfect to take her place. The pay was more than the last job she had, and the client was able to give her good steady work. After six months on a sabbatical, she needed this job. Her life was falling apart in Los Angeles, and she was looking forward to the opportunity to get away.

The only problem was that she had no idea who her new client was. It was a tight-lipped secret.

“He's...kind of difficult,” Stephanie said.

“What do you mean by difficult?” Adeline asked, feeling her friend's hesitation over the phone.

“He's kind of like a small child. He wants what he wants and if he doesn't get it, he's known to throw a tantrum – but an adult tantrum, like giving you a dirty look and insulting you. Not falling on the floor and crying and screaming, so it's not that bad.”

“Yeah, an adult tantrum is so much better than a little kid tantrum,” Adeline said sarcastically. “You're not boosting my confidence in taking this job, you know. I'm a personal assistant, not Super Nanny. I keep schedules from falling apart, I don't change diapers and wipe away tears.”

“It sounds bad, Addy,” Stephanie said. “I know. But I know him well and he's a good guy. The only problem is, he doesn't show it. He's had a rough year.”

“Steph, I've had a rough year,” Adeline responded quietly.

“I know, and that's why I'm asking you. I think on some level, maybe you'll be able to understand him. You've both lost something that you loved. I think you're in a place where you can return his shit right back to him. He needs to be kept in line and I think you can do that. I wouldn't ask you if I didn't have the confidence that you can.”

Both girls were silent for a few moments.

“I know you can do this,” Stephanie finally said. “You're fucking Adeline James Sutton. He needs this, and I have a feeling you need this too.”

Adeline rolled her eyes, having the distinct feeling that her friend's psychic claim was more of a desperate plea.

“Please say yes – if not for me, then say yes for yourself.”

Adeline's heart sank to the depths of her stomach. She didn't want to do this – but she did need it.

“What time should I expect you to pick me up at the airport?” she said quietly.

“I'll arrange your flight this afternoon. I'll take care of everything. I know this isn't your ideal job, Ad. But I think it's just what you need. I have this feeling you won't regret it.”

Adeline didn't believe that – she believed that this job was going to be hell and would push her to her limits. If it weren't for the benefits of the job, she wouldn't even consider it. She was giving New York six months. If she didn't love it in six months, she was on the first flight back to Los Angeles.

“Dramamine, check. Aspirin...double, triple and quadruple check,” she said with a sigh. If this client was anything like she imagined from all she had heard about him, she would need it.

Thirty minutes later her bags were packed and her driver was loading them in the back of her cab. She would be on a plane in less than two hours and her life would be different than it was at this moment. She looked around at the beautiful house she was leaving, a house that had once been full of good memories, love and laughter – six months later, filled with nothing but darkness and sadness.

“Goodbye, Los Angeles,” she said, grabbing a suitcase. “Hello, new life.”

Chapter 1 – Hello, New Life

“Would you quit being such a baby?”

Stephanie sat a cup of coffee down in front of Lance at the kitchen table.

“You'll get used to it,” she said, one hand on her waist. “Eventually.”

“You haven't given me much of a choice,” he responded.

“And that's why it's so enjoyable,” she said with a smile.

“I love how you get so much entertainment out of my personal suffering.”

“Poor Lancey,” she mocked with pouting lips. “Should I get your lovey? Or maybe a pacifier to soothe your hurt feelings?”

“You're a bitch.”

She laughed as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“That's why you love me, my darling, and you don't want to see me leave.”

She sat down at the table next to him and watched his discerned face. She watched his lips form into a slight pout and laughed, running her fingers through his hair.

“You'll be okay,” she said. “I promise. I think this is what you need.”

“This girl,” he said. “She's good at her job?”

“Adeline is one of the best that I know. She's thrives on organization and she keeps things running smoothly. She does well under pressure and she takes her job seriously. Disorganization drives her nuts – she's a freak of nature and I love her to death. I know you will too if you give her a chance.”

“She's not you,” he said.

“Of course she's not me. I'm one-of-a-kind.” She smiled at him. “But Lance, you know it's time for me to move on with my life. This new job pays more and I'll be closer to my sister. That's important to me.”

“I know – but what will I do without you?”

“The exact same thing you always do – bitch and moan and pout about everything while someone else handles it,” she said. “Only now it will be Adeline. I'm getting her set up in her apartment later today and then I'll spend the evening going over every detail of your life and career that I can think of. You don't have to worry about what you're going to do.”

“I don't mean the work. I mean you – you're my friend.”

“I wish you could put up with yourself all day long,” she said, taking a sip of coffee. “Then we'd see if you called yourself a friend.”

She watched his wounded facial expression.

“I'm kidding!” she said. “I'm still your friend, honey. I'll always be your friend. I just can't be your assistant and your friend anymore.”

“I know, and that's the part that sucks,” he said.

“You'll get used to it,” she said, and patted him on the arm. Then she pulled her tote bag over to her and started unzipping it. “I hate to end this little chat, but we need to go over your schedule for the day. I have a busy day and so do you. You'll have to do without me for the day since I'm helping her. Remember that we're taking her out to dinner tonight, so dress nice – and promise me you'll be nice. I want you on your best behavior.”

He sighed and took a drink of coffee. He didn't feel like being nice – it was going to be a long day.

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“No, no, no! That box needs to go over there. It says 'kitchen,' it should go with the kitchen things.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the moving man said politely but with a roll of his eyes. He picked the box back up and begrudgingly carried it over to the other boxes labeled “kitchen” that they had placed near the island counter top.

“Just keep everything together, please,” she said to the two men carrying in the few boxes and pieces of furniture she had. “I work a lot and I won't have a lot of time to unpack, I'd like to make it easier on myself.”

The men nodded and smiled politely, but Adeline knew they were upset and at least one thing would still be out of place by the time they left.

She looked around the apartment at the stacks of boxes and small pieces of furniture all over. Her flight had been long and rough, an all-nighter with a connection in Dallas in the early morning. She hadn't gotten much sleep on the plane because she had so many things to think and stress about. Now that she was finally in New York, it was time to get all her things settled into her apartment, and even that was a time for her to stress.

And it wasn't going to end from here. She had dinner tonight – with him. Stephanie would be there as well, but Adeline had a feeling that wouldn't make much of a difference.

Adeline was about to yell at the moving guy again for putting a bedroom box next to a living room box when Stephanie burst through the door with her hands full of bags in her usual cheerful manner.

“Hello darlings! Sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmare straight from hell. Did you find the place okay, love?”

“I didn't have to, my limo driver did all the finding,” Adeline said with a smile. “I think you went a little overboard with that, Steph.”

“You needed a grand welcome.” She sat the bags on top of some boxes stacked in the living room and walked over to Adeline, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I come bearing gifts – pastries from the best shop this side of the river. Are you hungry boys?”

She turned to the movers who were bringing in two more boxes and smiled.

“Take a break and have at it – I can't even imagine what Addy here has put you through, needing everything in its perfect place.”

Adeline smiled and rolled her eyes, but she was glad Stephanie was here to smooth things over.

“So how do you like the city so far?” she asked with a bright smile.

Adeline chuckled – Stephanie was always too cheerful for someone who had to put up with what she did.

“I haven't gotten to see much of it,” she responded. “If LaGuardia is any indication, I don't think I like it much.”

“How was your flight?”

“All things considered, it was okay, but too long. It's been a long time since I've been on an airplane.”

“Aren't you on planes all the time?” she asked as she started unpacking a living room box. “You married a famous movie director, after all. You don't go to all those film festivals, walk the red carpet in your sparkly dress and stuff?”

“Not at all,” Adeline said with a laugh. “I'm a behind the scenes person. I let him do all the traveling and schmoozing and I stay home where there's no cameras and blinding flashes.”

“How is Marc taking the move, anyway?”

“Surprisingly...well,” Adeline said, thinking back on the fight she had with him the night before her flight. The thought of it gave her a headache. “I think he's going to miss me.”

“Maybe that's what you both need,” Stephanie said. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or maybe it's what you need to realize that the relationship is not going to work out.”

Adeline hoped for the former. She had met Marcus Sutton right before she graduated college, before he became a huge Hollywood director. They married months after his first film took off, when they were both young and thought their lives were perfect. Five years later, her move to New York was the last resort she had before filing for divorce papers.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said.

“Addy...”

Stephanie and Adeline hadn't spoken in years, but they had recently reconnected, and Adeline knew that she didn't have good feelings towards Marc. Since they had started talking again, Stephanie had been trying to convince her to end the relationship for good. She had a feeling a part of the sudden relocation to New York was another scheme of hers to separate them for good.

“We need a break, that's all,” Addy said as she started unpacking a box full of picture frames and decorations. The first picture on top of the pile was her favorite photo from her wedding. “We'll figure it out. We have to.”

Stephanie sighed. She knew that was Adeline's way of telling her to drop the subject.

“So are you ever going to tell me who I'm going to be working with?” Adeline said.

“Not until all your crap is unpacked and you're so over moving that you don't want to bother repacking it all,” she responded. “Maybe then you won't run screaming.”

“All this bad stuff you tell me about him – what's his deal anyway? Why is he like this?”

“He was okay up until about a year ago. He was still a bit of a pain in the ass but that's because of his personality. Then his fiancee told him she was canceling the wedding to run off to Germany.”

“Ouch,” Adeline said, and placed a couple pictures on an end table.

“He thought she was postponing it, which he was fine with – but then she handed over the engagement ring and packed all her things and left without a goodbye. It hurt him pretty bad.”

“Well that's rough, but this is the Hollywood life. That happens all the time. One girl breaks his heart and he becomes the big, bad wolf?”

“You don't understand,” she said. “This relationship was the real deal. He really loved Mackenzie.”

Adeline stopped in her tracks.

“Mackenzie? As in Mackenzie Montgomery, the actress?”

“Yeah,” Stephanie said. “You know her?”

“Yeah, she's read for a couple of Marc's movies. She was engaged to that singer, Lance Bass, one of the biggest pains in the industry. Stephanie...”

“Oh crap,” Stephanie mumbled.

“Stephanie Dawn Andrews, you did not just trick me into sticking myself with that jerk!”

“I didn't totally trick you,” Stephanie said. “Do you hate me?”

“Hate is a word too soft for what I feel for you right now,” Adeline said. She unpacked more picture frames and tossed them on a chair. She was too angry to even begin to deal with them right now.

That man was known to assistants like her. All-around, he was a good guy – he paid his assistants well, didn't overwork them and they had great benefits with him. He actually gave vacation time and he didn't expect you to get his coffee and pick up his dry cleaning because he was the star. His mouth was what he was really known for. He was sarcastic, rude, and not afraid to tell you what he thought about you – and it was never nice.

“You never would have taken the job if I had told you!” Stephanie defended. When Adeline shot her a dirty look, she grimaced. “I'm sorry?”

“You're so damn lucky that I absolutely need this job right now,” Adeline said. “And that all my sharp kitchen utensils are still packed away in boxes – I'm in a stabbing mood.”

“At least give dinner tonight a chance. I told him that he's to be on his best behavior. If he's not, you'll have a knife on the ready and you can stab him. Deal?”

“Fine,” Adeline said, and started walking away. “I'm going to unpack the bedroom because I have a headache and I can't even be in the same room with you right now.”

“Make sure to unpack your stuff for tonight!” she yelled after her friend. After Adeline disappeared into the bedroom, she sighed to herself. “She'll never forgive me, I'm so screwed.”

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“You want to do this, Adeline. You need this job. It won't be that bad, it won't be that bad, it won't be that bad...”

As she walked to the restaurant a few blocks away from her apartment, Adeline mumbled motivational sayings to try to convince herself not to turn around and run as far away as she could. The urge to run all the way to the Canadian border hit her as she took another step and she wrapped her coat tightly around her body to keep the late-September chill out.

“Maybe he's not that bad,” she said to herself. “Maybe it's all Hollywood rumors. Steph seems to like him, so he can't be that bad. How big of a jerk can he be? God, how far away from here is Canada?”

She stopped on the sidewalk, and as she heard her heels stop clicking on the ground she considered turning and forgetting the whole thing.

“No, Adeline,” she said to herself, forcing her legs to keep moving. “You have to do this. You need this job. You want to do this.”

“Hey,” she heard from behind her, and she turned on her heels. Stephanie smiled back at her. “You know, here in New York, if people see you talking to yourself on the streets they think you're crazy.”

“I'm taking this job,” Adeline responded. “I must be.”

That's when she saw him, walking up behind Stephanie in a waist-length navy blue pea coat with his hands in his pockets. He was looking off towards the other side of the street, seeming every bit as disinterested in this as she was. Seeing him in person, he was as cute as he was in pictures.

If only she didn't have to talk to him.

“Adeline, this is Lance,” Stephanie said as he finally caught up to the two of them. “Lance, this is Adeline James Sutton, your new assistant as of bright and early tomorrow morning.”

He held out his hand to her, but didn't smile.

“Nice to meet you, Adeline,” he said.

She grabbed his hand to shake it, but couldn't bring herself to smile either.

“You too, Lance.”

Stephanie smiled. “You two spoke without killing each other. Hurdle crossed – now let's go eat, I'm starving.”

They walked another block before they reached the restaurant. He walked a couple feet ahead of them the whole time, while Adeline scowled and occasionally gave Stephanie dirty looks.

When they reached the restaurant, he was the first to open the door. Adeline was next and as she reached the door, expecting it to be open, he let it close behind him. She barely had time to stop before she ran into it.

Stephanie stepped up next to her as she grabbed the door handle to open it herself.

“What a gentleman,” she said. “Chivalry is dead and he may be by the end of the night.”

It didn't take long for them to be seated even though the restaurant was full of couples and families eating dinner. They ordered their drinks, and Stephanie watched them avoid looking directly at each other for several minutes. He cleared his throat and she sighed until the waiter delivered their drinks.

“How about them Yankees?” she asked with a smile. “Come on guys, you can at least talk to each other.”

“I have nothing to say,” Lance responded.

“You promised me,” she said sternly.

“I promised to be on my best behavior,” he said. “This is the best behavior I can give you tonight.”

“This is probably the truth,” Stephanie said to Adeline with a roll of her eyes. She lifted her wine glass. “Let's toast to the hope that we make it to dessert before you put the knife to good use.”

Chapter 2 – Bad Start

“3E...3E...”

Adeline wrestled with her bag, her file folder and planner in her hands and the keys that Stephanie had passed on over to her. Today was already off to a bad start – New York had changed in the several years since she had left and people had become much ruder over time. She was running late when she left her house and hit more traffic than she had planned.

She was dreading this first day. Last night's dinner had started off rough and Stephanie may not have thought it went so well, but Adeline had planned for much worse and was pleasantly surprised. She didn't have to use the knife, at least. They didn't talk to each other much, but as far as she was concerned that was a bonus. They simply introduced themselves to one another, ate their dinner, made small talk, and left at the end of the night uncomfortably but without any snags.

That was on neutral ground with a mediator, though. Today he was on his home turf and she had to handle him on her own, and between her gut feeling and Stephanie's warning she knew he would be a bit crabby.

Even though she had made time for a bit of yoga this morning and dressed in her favorite knit tunic and khaki slacks, she wasn't feeling the least bit relaxed or professional. Not only could she not find his apartment, but she hadn't even gotten the chance to grab a coffee before she got here.

She finally found the apartment, and struggled with the keys and all her things, but made it inside. When she stepped in, the whole place was eerily quiet and the first thing she noticed was the mess. There were a couple of t-shirts thrown over the back of the couch, dishes left on the end tables along with a beer bottle, and magazines laying in a messy pile on the coffee table.

She groaned and sat her bag and items down at his dining room table before walking over and first straightening the magazines. Then she threw the shirts into the hamper in the bathroom, picked up the dishes, and headed off to the kitchen to start the coffee.

One look in his sink made her groan again. She had a lot of cleanliness issues, but dishes were the one that drove her the craziest. She had to rinse her dishes and put them in the dishwasher as soon as she was done eating off them.

“I'm not a personal assistant,” she mumbled to herself as she added to the pile in the sink. “I'm this guy's keeper. Practically his mom.”

As the words left her lips, a pang suddenly stung her heart, but she pushed it aside.

“You,” she said, pointing at the dishes. “I'll get to you later. First, I need liquid energy.”

Luckily, she only had to search a couple of cabinets before she found the coffee and filters.

“First good thing that's happened to me all day,” she said. Still, after spilling coffee grounds and wasting five minutes trying to figure out how his coffee machine worked, she felt her patience dwindle even more.

After the coffee started and she took a breath, she prepared herself for her next job – waking him up. Stephanie had also warned her that this was part of her job. Apparently, he was a complete insomniac. Since he had slept through so many alarms in the morning, she had started waking him up in the mornings, and now it had become routine...well, to everyone except him. At least she was honest to Adeline and told her what to expect – he didn't like getting up early. He got angry when someone woke him up earlier than he wanted. Even nine in the morning was too early for him.

It was 7:45 now. He would hate her. No...he would loathe her.

She smelled the coffee wafting through the place as she walked through the living room and down the small hallway to the bedroom. The door was closed, so she knocked on it three times.

As expected, she got no answer, so she quietly turned the golden knob and peeked inside. She saw him on his bed, eyes closed and sprawled out underneath the covers.

She walked up to the side of the bed and smiled as she took in the sight. Such attitude last night, reduced to this while he slept...he looked peaceful. He actually looked adorable. If anybody heard of his reputation and then saw this, they'd never believe it.

The attraction was there – she saw why girls liked him. He was pretty cute, after all. His dirty blonde hair spiked out in different directions and she watched his chest rise and fall. If only his reputation didn't precede him, Adeline thought she might actually like him.

“Lance...”

She said it loudly enough that she thought she would wake him, but he didn't even twitch an eye.

“Lance,” she said a little more loudly, and when she got no more than a tiny stir, she grabbed his arm and shook it. “Lance, it's time to wake up.”

“What time is it?” he mumbled, barely audibly.

“7:45.”

“You're nuts,” he said, not even opening his eyes. “I'm not waking up this early, go back to bed.”

“You're waking up on my terms now, Sleeping Beauty.”

She expected a reaction, but he went back to not moving or batting an eyelash. She felt herself start to get annoyed.

“Lance,” she said, and shook his arm a little more forcefully, “seriously, it's time to wake up now.”

“Go the hell away.”

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes upwards. He really was like a little kid.

“Lance, you're waking up whether you like it or not.”

“I'd love to see you make me,” he said, eyes still closed.

She smiled, but walked out of the room without saying anything. At the sound of the door latching closed, he smiled to himself at his success of getting rid of her and settled back in for a couple more hours of deep sleep.

Right before he got there, he was jolted awake by a sharp pain and something hitting his head.

“Ow! What the fuck, woman?”

He watched Adeline bend down and pick up an ink pen off the floor and wave it around in her fingers with a smile on her face.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Maybe for you, psycho,” he said, rubbing the spot near his eyebrow that the pen had hit.

“Like I said, you're waking up on my terms now. Coffee is almost ready and I have your schedule for the day all prepared. Come out whenever you're ready, but if you even think about going back to sleep, be forewarned...I have more pens.”

He watched her walk out of the room, swaying her hips with attitude. His eyebrow stung, and he rubbed the area with his finger. When he drew his finger back, he saw a tiny smear of blood.

“Fucking crazy ass...” he mumbled to himself as he pushed the covers aside and stood up out of bed. He walked over to his dresser and leaned into it, checking out his wound in the large mirror. It was no bigger than a quarter of an inch, but it was still bleeding.

She had some nerve – walking into his house, into his life, and taking over from day one like she was Stephanie.

Psychotic – that's what she was.

He grabbed an old pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt off the dresser and quickly got dressed, surveying the cut in the mirror one more time before he walked out of the room.

“Well, you decided to join the living,” she said as he walked into the kitchen.

“You're fucking crazy,” he said. “You know that?”

“That's what I'm told,” she responded as she sat a cup of coffee at the table in his usual spot.

“You made me bleed.”

“Oh, you poor baby. Should I get you a band-aid and a lollipop?”

He gritted his teeth. “You threw a fucking pen at my head!”

“And tomorrow, you'll know to wake up when I tell you to,” she said. “I might try throwing my clipboard at your head next. Now, what do you take in your coffee?”

“A little sugar and a pain killer – for my head,” he spat. “Maybe you should try yours with a side of Haldol.”

He grimaced as he touched the cut again, and she rolled her eyes.

“I'm not going to beat around the bush,” she said as she grabbed the canister of sugar and a bottle of Tylenol and slammed them on the table in front of him. “I run this part of the show. All the behind-the-scenes type of stuff that you can't or won't do, or think you're too fragile to handle on your own...I do it. I've been doing this for five years. I'm good at this.”

She continued to stare at him as if she expected him to speak, but he didn't dare interrupt her tirade.

“I could be working for fucking Julia Roberts right now, between my reputation and my husband's push in the industry. I don't have to work for people like you.”

“Then why do you?” he asked. “Why don't you go work for Julia Roberts? I'm sure she'd like to have you more than I do right now.”

“Because without me, people like you would fall apart at the seams. You can't handle the pressure of your own lives. You can't even handle a little cut on your head.”

She smirked at him before she backed off and walked to the sink. It made him angry. Who did she think she was anyway?

“I can handle myself fine, thank you,” he said. “I don't need you.”

“Yeah?” she asked. “What were you planning to eat today?”

She opened the refrigerator door to show him the almost-empty milk jug and single beer.

“Steph would have gone today.”

“Yeah, Steph would have gone today,” she said, and closed the door. “Steph isn't here anymore. You needed her, and now you need me.”

She watched his face as he realized that she was at least somewhat right, and grinned to herself when she turned around to stir creamer into her own coffee. This was the plan all along – to blindside him before he ever got to her, to get the best of him first. She knew if he had the opportunity to get the best of her, he would hold that control over her and never let her forget it.

Of course, she didn't plan to throw a pen at his head and hurt him in the process, but that was collateral damage and at least he knew now that she wouldn't take his shit.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing her coffee and sitting down in the seat in front of him. “We got off to a bad start. I'm sorry about your head. I know you don't like change. I'm not fond of it myself either. I'd rather be in Los Angeles with my husband right now, and you'd rather have Stephanie back. But you won't be getting her back.”

She chuckled when he gave her a dirty look.

“I graduated from USC with my MBA at twenty-two years old. Over the five years I've been doing this, I've worked for several different celebrities. This is not my first time at the circus – I more than know my way around this industry. I'm totally capable of handling your life for you if you'll hand it over. And you don't even have to like me.”

“Good,” he said. “Because I don't. And I won't.”

She sighed and shook her head.

“Fine. I've said what I needed to say, and I think you have, too. I guess we should get down to business then?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

Inwardly, she groaned. Sure, Stephanie had warned her that he was a tough customer and had the tendency to act like a child – but it was one thing hearing it, and a different thing experiencing it and putting up with it.

“Whatever,” she said with the same nonchalant attitude. She pulled the old planner that Stephanie had passed over to her out of her bag and opened it. “I have you scheduled for a casting call at ten this morning.”

“No you don't,” he said.

“It's written down right here,” she said, pointing to the space that said 'Casting call – 10am' in Stephanie's handwriting.

“I see it's written down, but I canceled that yesterday afternoon. I'm not reading for that role anymore.”

“Okay,” she said. “Is there a reason that you canceled and I didn't know about it?”

“Because it's none of your business,” he said, his tone warning. “Now, can we move on?”

“Fine,” she said tensely. “I have you scheduled for a lunch after that, and from one-thirty to five I have you down for a practice round at the golf course for the charity tournament this Saturday.”

“That will probably run late,” he said. “Is that all?”

“That's all I have down for today.”

“Good.” He grabbed his still-full coffee cup and stood up out of his seat. “I have a few things for you to do today, too. You might want to write them down.”

She sighed and pulled out a pen.

“There's the grocery shopping of course. Then I need you to pick up a couple of things at the dry cleaners, take my dogs for a run at the park, and I need some gas put in my car. Oh, do you think you could take a few of those dirty clothes to the laundry? I need some clean shirts.”

She forced herself to smile.

“I will get that done for you. Anything else?”

“A few things – but I think I'll save those for tomorrow.” He poured his coffee into the sink and placed the dirty cup with the rest of the dishes. “I wouldn't want to put too much on your plate your first day.”

“How generous of you,” she mumbled sarcastically.

“Looks like I don't have anything to do until later this morning, so I'm going back to bed. I'd suggest you start on that list though, it's pretty long. I guess I'll see you later.”

He walked out of the room with little more than a wave of his hand, leaving her alone. She clicked her pen and started writing out her unexpected to-do list for the day, mumbling to herself.

“I will not kill him, prison orange is not my color...”

Chapter 3 – Black Slacks and Business-First

Five intense breakfasts – that was what she'd had to go through so far. Five mornings in a row of waking him up, five mornings of being yelled at and called crazy, and five mornings of what she could only describe as slightly mature hissy fits from him.

She felt like she actually might need that Haldol he suggested.

They weren't even close to learning to get along with each other, only learning to co-exist. Every day it was the same thing – she walked into his quiet apartment and picked up last night's mess, started the coffee, and spent ten minutes arguing with him about waking up – so at least she could say they'd gotten a routine down.

What she couldn't say was that he was everything people told her about him. Oh no, he was worse than that. Every morning after going through his schedule, he gave her an entire list of tasks to complete. Most nights he had her running his ridiculous errands until eight or nine. Then she would head home to collapse in her bed and do it all again the next day.

She hadn't had time to unpack any of the rest of her belongings. She'd hardly had time to take a shower. She was officially going to go crazy by the time she was done with him.

So that Saturday when she got to his apartment, she was surprised – not only was the apartment semi-clean when she got there, but he didn't give her a fight when she woke him up. In fact, he woke up the second time she asked, and he didn't throw any insults her way either.

By the time she sat down with her coffee and started to go over his schedule, the only explanation she had come up with was that he'd suddenly found out he had three months to live and was trying to right the wrongs of his life.

“I moved today's lunch with your friend Jamie-Lynn to Monday, because I thought you could use the extra time before the tournament to practice.”

She sat down at the table with her coffee and two bagels, one for him and one for herself.

“Okay,” he said, and for a moment she was shocked that there was no argument or fuss over it.

“Oh, and Joey called,” she said, tearing off a piece of bagel. “His daughter is sick with the flu so he's not going to be able to make it to the tournament this afternoon.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “When?”

“I don't know, around nine last night. Why?”

“He's my partner,” he said. “There's only two to a team. I've lost half my team!”

“I'll call them, I'm sure they can assign you a new partner.”

“You have to call 48 hours in advance,” he said. “They can't assign me a new partner. I have to come up with one on my own or forfeit.”

“Well...I'll make some calls to your friends and find you a new partner.”

“No one will be available on this short of notice,” he said with a sigh. “The tournament starts in five hours.”

“It'll look pretty bad if you forfeit,” she said. “I mean, it's for charity.”

“I know,” he said. “But do you have any other suggestions?”

She sighed. He was obviously disappointed. As bad as he seemed to her on the outside, she knew that he loved to do work for charity. Plus, she had noticed that he had been looking forward to this for several days.

She knew she would regret it, but she hated seeing him like this.

“I do, actually,” she said. “What if I took his place?”

He started out smiling, and then laughed.

“You? Golf? Please.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What? Because I'm a girl?”

“Because you're...” He hesitated. “Well, you're you!”

“What the hell does that mean?” she said, suddenly feeling even more offended.

“You're all black slacks and business-first. I can't imagine you dressing down to have fun, that's all.”

“That's all?” she said with a scoff. She downed the last of her coffee and stood up to take the cup to the sink. “I don't know why I'm still surprised at how insulting you are. God knows I should be used to it by now.”

“What'd I say?” he exclaimed with a smile.

“Forget it. I tried to help you and you laughed at me then insulted me. Go ahead and forfeit your game, I'm going home.”

She started to walk out of the kitchen to grab her coat and leave.

“Adeline, wait.”

She turned, figuring that he would stick her with yet another long to-do list for the day.

“Do you even know how to play?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “But you hit a ball with a metal stick and aim for the hole. How hard can that be?”

Immediately, he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“This'll be worth all the money I'm donating just to see it,” he said, smiling. “Go home and change into something sensible, you can't play in that. Meet me at the course around eleven so I can give you a crash course in hitting a ball with a metal stick, okay?”

She looked down at her pencil skirt and black flats, briefly wondering for a moment what exactly he thought was not sensible about them.

“Fine,” she said, surrendering. “Meet you at the golf course at eleven.”

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It took her an hour to rifle through her packed clothes to find an old polo shirt she'd worn back in college, a pair of white slacks and some tennis shoes. She managed to get to the golf course in time to park, pull her long brunette hair out of the bun it was in and into a ponytail, and see him park his Escalade right next to hers.

“You made it on time,” he said as he pulled a bag of golf clubs out of the back and threw it over his shoulder.

“I'm always on time.”

“And you actually took my advice and wore something sensible,” he said, looking her over head to toe.

“I'll have you know that was one of the most sensible outfits I own.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled out a second golf bag.

“Whatever.” He shoved it into her arms, startling her. “This is your briefcase for the day, princess.”

“Yes, your jackass-ness,” she said, and threw the bag over her shoulder.

“I'm as thrilled about teaching you as you are about learning from me,” he said as he shut the door. “Let's get this over with and we never have to speak of this again.”

“How in the world can women resist you when you talk like that?” she said sarcastically as he walked away.

He led her through the parking lot and past the office and other buildings over a small hill, where she saw nothing but open nature – water, trees and some of the greenest grass she had ever seen. She hadn't expected it to be this beautiful.

After a few minutes of walking, he stopped at what looked like a random spot to her.

“Have you ever even held a golf club?” he asked.

“I saw a spider in the kitchen once and all I could find to kill it with was one of my husband's clubs,” she said. “It was that hockey-stick-looking one though, so it didn't work that well.”

“Putter,” he said. “The putter. And that's not exactly what I was talking about.”

“Well...” she said, hesitating. “I don't know that much about golf. I'm more of a bookworm and business-type than I am a sports fan.”

“Oh, so it's okay for you to say it, but if I say that about you I get my head chopped off?”

“It's a woman thing.”

“What the hell did I get myself into,” he said with a sigh.

“Hey,” she said.

“First thing you need to learn – stance,” he said, ignoring her dirty look. “Let me show you.”

He placed his golf bag on the ground and walked over to her. He pulled the bag off her shoulder and did the same thing with hers, then took her by surprise by grabbing her shoulders.

He turned her slightly, then leaned down and grabbed a club and golf ball out of her bag and placed the ball on the ground in front of her.

“You want to stand with your legs together,” he said, looking directly at her. “But you don't want to tense up either. Take this.”

He held the club out to her, and she took it from his hand.

“You know how to hold it?”

She had seen Marc hold his clubs a few times when he had practiced in the backyard, so she positioned the club in her hands emulating him.

“Like this?”

“Pretty good,” he said. “You want to keep your stance a little looser though. Here, let me help.”

He moved behind her and suddenly, she felt him against her. He used his foot to move her feet apart a little more and when she felt him move closer and grab both her arms from behind her, her heart suddenly started beating a little faster.

“Now you grip the club like this,” he said. He grasped her hands in his and positioned them in place on the top of the club. “Got it?”

“Y...yeah,” she stuttered.

“Okay, now before you actually hit the ball, you want to take a couple of small practice swings, to make sure you're lined up and everything, like this.”

He pulled her arm and the club back about a foot, then swung it forward towards the ball without hitting it.

“Got a feel for that?” he asked, looking at her.

“I think so,” she said, thinking that the only thing she really had a feel for was him so close to her and how strangely it made her feel.

“Alright, now when you get ready to swing, you want to loosen up and not be so uptight – which should be the most difficult part for you,” he said, smirking at her.

“Are you going to teach me how to golf or be my therapist?” she asked.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist. Relax your shoulders.”

When she didn't relax to his liking, he removed his hands from the club and placed them on her shoulders and pushed them down.

“Relax,” he repeated. “Now line up your shot.”

He grabbed her hands and pulled the club back again slightly, and when he brought it forward he relaxed his grip.

“Now swing when you're ready,” he said.

She expected him to back off but he didn't, so she exhaled a breath and pulled the club back to swing. As she started to swing, he removed his hands and she heard the club connect with the ball and sent it flying across the course.

“Wow,” he said, looking at her with a smile. “That wasn't too bad. I bet it went at least a hundred yards. Your follow-through wasn't bad at all. Now if you can keep doing that and not screw it up, we might have a chance at winning this.”

“You hung onto 'charming' for about two seconds,” she said. “And then, you had to go and ruin it.”

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“I can't believe we got third place,” Adeline said with a smile. She threw the bag of clubs into the back of his car as he opened the door for her. The tournament had lasted longer than she thought it would and the sun was just about to set.

He looked at her and smiled back.

“I have to admit, you did awesome,” he said, shutting the hatch door. “You really surprised me.”

She grinned slightly – he'd actually handed out a compliment. As well he should have, because for never having played golf before, Adeline had kept up with the rest of the golfers and even though she didn't play a perfect game, she did well enough for them to earn that third place win.

“In reality I suck,” she said, “but I disguised it well.”

“You sucked a lot less than most of the other players, though.”

“I think I should take that as a compliment,” she said, chuckling.

“Let's go get dinner to celebrate.”

“You mean, together?” she said, suddenly surprised.

“No, I'll sit in a booth and you have to eat in the car,” he said, smiling. “Of course, together. We can take my car and I can bring you back to pick yours up later.”

She stood there, not able to say a word. She hadn't expected them to get along as well as they had today, even though they did have a few spats. Even at his nicest, he didn't seem like the kind of guy who would want to do dinner with her.

“You do eat dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” she spit out. “Of course I eat dinner. I just...wasn't expecting the invite.”

“Well, I'm inviting. I'll even treat.”

“Okay, now I'm utterly shocked,” she said.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Get in.”

They drove through the city for about twenty minutes, under the illusion that they were deciding where to go – but neither were that hungry. The conversation was too alluring.

He turned down another street, sunglasses over his eyes to shield him from the bright setting sun, his hands steady on the steering wheel.

“So, you're married to that famous director, right?” he asked.

She looked over and thought she saw a hint of a smile on his face.

“Yes. And 'that famous director' has a name – Marc.”

“Sorry, Marc,” he said. “So do you two have any children?”

The smile left her immediately, and her breath hitched when she felt the stabbing pain in her chest.

“No,” she said, trying to keep her cool. “We don't have any children.”

“Do you plan to?”

Suddenly, her whole body warmed over and her stomach turned.

“I don't know,” she said.

He went on talking, but she zoned out. She suddenly felt constricted by the seat belt across her chest, and she felt herself start to shake. Her eyes played tricks on her as the cab of the car felt like it was enlarging and shrinking at the same time, causing her tiny bit of claustrophobia to settle in as well. She heard him speaking, but she couldn't understand what he was saying – she knew he was right there in the driver's seat, sitting twelve inches away from her, but in her head it sounded like he was all the way across a room.

“I can't do this tonight,” she interrupted, feeling the familiar sensation of a panic attack coming quickly. “I'm sorry. Can you take me home?”

“Take you home? Adeline, it's only dinner. I think we can manage dinner together.”

“I can't do it. Take me home, please. My apartment is actually right around this corner, a couple blocks away.”

“I'm not taking you home,” he said.

“Please, I just need to go home!”

Both of them sat stunned. She hadn't meant to scream at him, but she couldn't help it. The experience of feeling her lungs shutting down, the tears building, and every part of her brain yelling at her to run away was overwhelming. This wasn't the first time. It had happened before, and she couldn't believe it was happening again.

“Fine,” he said quietly. “I'll take you home.”

She wanted to apologize – she wanted to scream at him that she was sorry and beg him to forgive her and take her out to dinner anyway. Things had been so good, and he had tried so hard to be friendly to her today. The simple gesture of taking her out to dinner was so nice and could be the turning point in her work relationship with him.

And she was ruining it. Her body wasn't capable of handling this and she had to run.

She could hardly handle pointing out her apartment building when he turned onto her street, and as soon as he put the car into park at her curb she grabbed her purse and opened the door, stepping out as quickly as she could.

“What about your car?” he asked.

“I'll take a cab to get it tomorrow morning.”

“Do you want me to come up?” he said. “You don't look so good, Adeline.”

“No,” she said, struggling to breathe. “You can't come up. I can't explain, I just need to be alone. I'll see you tomorrow morning.”

She shut the car door and ran to the building as fast as she could manage, stopping inside to lean against the glass doors. She watched him as she tried to catch her breath, and watched him sit inside the car for a few seconds. She could tell he was confused and hurt, and for no other reason than he had asked a few questions, and she still couldn't handle it.

After she watched him drive away from her curb, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh, feeling tears finally run down her cheeks.

“I'm sorry...”

Chapter 4 – Disaster Strikes

Adeline shifted the car into park in his lot and exhaled a breath.

Last night had been bad. She wished she could tell him what happened – but even she only had a vague idea.

She'd gotten used to the panic attacks by now – at least, their presence. She hadn't gotten used to the feeling they gave her. She didn't think she ever would get used to that.

She knew that last night's attack had been building for hours before it ever happened. She didn't know whether it was the argument from that morning, the tournament, or his too-close-for-comfort crash-course lesson that had set the ball in motion.

His lesson – that was an experience. She really did hate the guy – but when he was so close to her, she couldn't describe accurately what she felt. She could smell his cologne and feel his breath on her neck when he was showing her how to hold the club. It was comfort, and this weird feeling in her stomach – fluttery, maybe?

Definitely fluttery. A lot like her husband had made her feel, before...everything.

But she didn't feel for him the way she felt for her husband. They could be the last two people on Earth and she couldn't see herself feeling that way for him.

At least, that's what she told herself. She told herself that it was only a symptom of the looming panic attack. She ignored the fact that she felt fine through the tournament after that. If she didn't have any feelings for him – and she didn't – that was the only reasonable explanation.

She still felt horrible for what she did, though. There was no way she would have made it through dinner with him, and it wasn't like she could tell him she was having a panic attack. Knowing his personality, he would have laughed at her. Either that, or he would have asked why she was having a panic attack, and wanted an explanation.

She would die before she gave him that.

Still, she needed to come up with something, because he would at least want an explanation as to why she had ditched him. She couldn't tell him the truth, but she had to come up with something. And she had no idea what that something would be.

The ding of the elevator she was waiting for alarmed her and made her jump. She still had a little anxiety left over from last night. She felt like she would jump out of her skin.

Why did he do this to her? Celebrities didn't make her nervous; this was her job, dealing with them. They could get a little cranky and demanding sometimes – granted, not quite as much as he had been, but he wasn't anything she couldn't handle. At least, nothing she shouldn't be able to handle. She allowed them moments to fly off the handle, because they were human too.

Although, she still wasn't sure whether she could consider him human.

The elevator jerked to a stop on the third floor, and her stomach lurched slightly. She only had a few steps before she would be in his apartment, and she still didn't have an excuse or explanation for last night.

She readjusted her bag on her shoulder and stepped off the elevator as its doors opened then closed behind her. She had no choice but to tell him she felt ill and be as vague as she could manage. At this point, it was her only option.

She walked slowly down the hall to his door, dreading this day. All she wanted to do was crawl back in bed and weep under the covers, then fall asleep and not wake up until everyone else was asleep. Despite it, she took a breath and unlocked his door.

Stepping into his entryway, she heard the silence in his house but to her surprise, she could already smell the coffee brewing.

Wow, she thought, he's up already. At least I don't have to fight that battle.

The minute she turned the corner and saw the blonde in nothing but her pink bra and panties standing in his kitchen, her keys and planner both dropped to the floor.

“Oh, hi!” the girl said, in an annoyingly cheerful voice.

Adeline was stunned for a few moments. The last thing she had expected to see when she walked into his house this morning was a half-naked girl. She was about to respond when he walked in the room.

“Hey, Ad,” he said, and smiled when he looked at her.

“Adeline. Please don't call me Ad,” she said as she picked up the things she had dropped.

“Sorry. Adeline.” He passed her and walked over to the girl with a smile on his face. “I see you've met Linda.”

She watched him wrap his arms around the girl's bare torso.

“Lisette,” she said, looking at him.

“Huh?”

“It's Lisette,” she said, countering his confused face. “My name's Lisette.”

“That's what I said,” he said, charming her with his tone of voice and the slick look in his eyes. “You didn't hear me right.”

“Really?” She looked at him and her eyes lit up, her mouth turning up into a stupid smile.

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course.”

Adeline raised her eyebrows.

“Wow. Okay. I should go and give you two a few minutes of privacy,” she said. “And maybe a few minutes to, you know, put on clothes.”

“Oh,” the blonde said. “It's okay, I was getting ready to get dressed and leave for work. It was so nice to meet you Adeline.”

She walked over and held out her hand, and even Adeline had to mentally coach her eyes to focus on the girl's face instead of her near-bare chest.

“Yes, it was nice to meet you too – I think.”

'Lisette' – or Linda, Adeline was too stunned to keep track – walked away from her with a moronic smile plastered on her face. Adeline wasn't sure she could hide her eyes as wide as dinner plates – and judging by the smirk she caught on his face, she figured she wasn't doing a good job at it anyway.

“Coffee,” she said, more to herself than him, as she walked to the counter. “I need coffee.”

“Surprise, sunshine,” he whispered as she walked past him.

They were quiet – she poured her coffee and he grabbed a muffin and sat down at the table. She leaned against the counter and tried to gather herself. As if last night wasn't enough to throw her mental stability off a bit, now she had to contend with this. She knew he was an ass, but she didn't know he would stoop this low.

After a few minutes, the mystery girl walked back into the kitchen wearing a tube top and mini skirt, with a tiny purse thrown over her shoulder.

“I left my number on the night stand,” she said, looking over at Lance. “You'll use it?”

Adeline couldn't help but look off to her side and roll her eyes.

“Of course,” he said, not bothering to look up from his book.

She was about to roll her eyes again when the girl looked over at her.

“Well it was nice meeting you again, Adeline,” she said. “I hope your surgery went well, too.”

“Surgery?” Adeline said, confused.

“Yeah. Lance told me you guys had dinner plans last night but you had to cancel because you had to have emergency surgery. He told me you sat on a sharp stick and had to have it removed.” The girl chuckled. “Color me stupid – I didn't know that could really happen.”

Adeline smiled, holding back her gritted expression, and looked over at him.

“He told you that, did he?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I think it's amazing that you're already out and back at work after a huge surgery like that.”

“Yeah,” Adeline responded. “Pretty amazing what they can do these days with medical technology. I'm sure they can even remove sharpened pencils from jugular veins.”

Lance finally looked up at the two of them.

“Let's hope so anyway,” Adeline said with a smirk in his direction.

“I hate to run,” the girl said, “but I have to get to work.”

“I'll walk you out,” Lance said. He stood up out of the chair, but his eyes never left Adeline's face until he walked out of the kitchen. When he disappeared, Adeline felt her anger rise up to her face from where she had stuffed it down into her stomach.

She wasn't sure why she cared so much. She had ditched him. She had done it suddenly and without explanation, and she had even screamed at him in the process. He had every right to go out and find solace with someone else – even if comfort for him came in bubblegum pink lace panties, she shouldn't care.

But she did care. She cared so much that she could feel her cheeks flushing and even her pulse racing. Where had he found her? Was it only a one-night stand? Could he have even paid her for sex? Did he even care about her? Did it matter? He was only her employer.

Unfortunately, she couldn't say that it didn't matter.

He appeared in the kitchen entryway and walked immediately back to his seat at the table, sitting calmly.

“Well, that was charming and classy,” she said, refilling her coffee. “Judging by her work clothes – stripper?”

“She sure ain't no accountant,” he said with a sway of his head.

She couldn't see his face since his back was turned toward her, but she could imagine the smile plastered on his face. He was getting enjoyment from this.

“I'm not a betting woman but I need to get in on the pool of which STD you have now. My money's on chlamydia.”

“Is somebody jealous?” he said in a child-like, patronizing tone.

“Not in the slightest,” she lied, sitting down next to him at the table. “Good for you, asshat. It's good to know that there are still women out there with low enough self-esteem who are so desperate that they'll sleep with men like you. Everybody needs someone to love.”

“I'm the asshat?” he said. “I'm not the one who ran out of the car screaming and freaking out last night. What the hell was that all about?”

“I didn't feel well.” She lowered her head and focused on her coffee, hoping he couldn't call her bluff.

“You didn't feel well? That's the best you can come up with?”

“Is it really any of your business?” she asked, suddenly feeling defensive. “What do you care anyway? You don't even like me.”

“That doesn't mean we shouldn't try to spend time getting to know each other. It looks like we'll be stuck with each other for a long time.”

“I don't have to be,” she said. “I'm not even sure I'll keep this job.”

“I don't think you have much of a choice. Stephanie told me you needed this job pretty badly.”

“Not for monetary reasons. I could go back to Los Angeles and find a hundred other spoiled rich brats that need my help just like you do.”

“Spoiled rich brats?” he said with a scoff. “I'm not the one who's married to a Hollywood director, honey. I worked for all my money – like all those other spoiled rich brats you think you take care of, whether you like to admit it or not.”

For a moment, she was stunned – and quite heated.

“Are you insinuating that I don't work for my money?” she asked.

“I'm not insinuating that you don't work; I'm insinuating that you're hypocritical. You think you're better than the people you work for but your husband makes as much money as any of us do – and you know as well as I do that you take advantage of it.”

She could feel her inner temperature, both literal and emotional, rise. She wanted to punch him, but she figured that he would be unabashed about hitting back, or at the least, calling the cops and pressing charges. She thought about pouring her full cup of hot coffee into his lap; but she didn't want to drive him to the hospital with first-degree burns, and she knew he would make her wash the stains out of his clothes.

But dishing out the same kind of verbal assault that he dished out to her every day – that would be worse. It would hit him hard.

“You know what you do?” she asked. “You use words to make people around you feel as miserable as you always do. You pick up stupid, blonde bimbos with bad pick-up lines and have meaningless sex with them because you're totally empty inside. You have a big, fat hole in your heart that your fiancee left when she threw you to the curb.”

The minute it came out, her mouth almost dropped to the floor. She couldn't believe it had come out of her. She was generally nice to people, and she knew she shouldn't have said it. But he had taken her last nerve and grated it into a fine powder. Just because she knew she shouldn't have said it, didn't mean she didn't stand by it.

“What'd you say?” he said, surprisingly calm.

“You heard me. If you'd look closely at yourself and how you interact with people, you might understand why she left you.”

He stood up from his chair, turned his back to her and started walking to the kitchen counter.

“Cancel everything for today, get your shit, and get out of my house,” he said.

She scoffed.

“You can't be serious.”

“Oh, I am,” he said. “You're lucky I'm only asking you to leave, instead of firing you.”

“Lance, I --”

“Get out!”

The volume and seriousness in his voice startled her, and she jumped. She stood still in her seat for a moment, shocked by his outburst, watching him lean against the counter with his back to her. She had watched him size her up, knock her down, throw his tantrums, and be a general pain in her ass – but he had never screamed at her.

“You really want me to leave?” she asked quietly.

“I really want you to leave,” he said, his voice low but stern.

She felt her heart drop. She grabbed her coffee cup from the table and stood up.

“Fine,” she said, carrying it over and placing it in the sink. “I'll leave.”

He was silent, but he craned his neck slightly to watch her grab her jacket off the chair and her bag off the table, placing them both around her shoulders. She lingered a few moments before she slowly walked out of the kitchen, and he heard her shut the door behind her.

When she left, she didn't hesitate at his door; she could already feel her emotional side taking control and she wanted to get home before it took over completely. She rushed to the open elevator, avoiding looking in the eyes of the woman getting off, and pushed back the urge to tear up.

Once inside, she pushed the button to close the doors three times, and once she was safely alone inside, she exhaled a breath.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, she chided herself in her mind. He's an asshole, but he's still a human.

The elevator stopped on the second floor and when the doors opened up, a man in a business suit stepped on. He smiled at her as he turned around and the doors closed.

Totally unacceptable to bring up his girlfriend, she thought. It was unprofessional. Unethical, really...and just damn mean, too.

“I am an asshat,” she whispered to herself.

She didn't realize she said it out loud until the man looked back at her wide-eyed. He stared at her a few moments, and all the while she wished she could melt into a puddle and evaporate.

“Sorry,” she said, smiling. “I guess I forgot that I wasn't alone.”

She sighed as he raised his eyebrows and turned to look back toward the door, still bewildered.

Make that a huge asshat, she thought to herself.

Chapter 5 – Trouble in Paradise

“You didn't say that!”

“I did,” Adeline said, cringing yet smiling as she sat her plate of fruit down on the table in front of her. She held the phone close to her ear. “I'm not proud.”

“Well I wouldn't say this to his face,” Stephanie said, “but I am proud. Of you, for standing up for yourself to him. You may not have done it in the best way, but he deserved everything he got.”

“He didn't deserve everything.” She popped a single grape in her mouth. “He was actually trying to be nice to me until I bolted. He had a reasonable reaction.”

“Honey,” Stephanie responded, chuckling. “He brought a stripper back to his apartment, probably by paying her, and set up a very amateur yet deliberate scenario so you would see her half-clothed. Nothing about that is reasonable.”

“I meant, aside from that,” she said, smiling a little.

“Here's the problem with Lance,” Stephanie said. “He tends to forget when he's slinging insults that he's talking to human beings. He did it all the time with me. He's a sweet guy when you dig past the sour exterior...thing is, you have to dig a lot. I don't know how he does it, but that sweet candy center is buried six feet under, right along with that black hole he calls a beating heart.”

“It is pretty deep and dark in there.”

“Yeah. Just a little.”

It had been over two weeks since her huge argument with Lance, but today was the first day Stephanie had called since she'd moved all the way back to California for her new job and client. Adeline forgot how much she missed the sarcasm and wit laced through the heavy Australian accent of her friend.

“So aside from the stripper in the pink panties and his obviously poor attitude toward safe sex...how have things been going?”

Adeline only mumbled in response.

“That bad?”

“He's had me running menial errands all over the city like I'm a damn chihuahua chasing a bone,” she said. “And I don't normally pry into my clients' sex lives...”

“Of course not,” Stephanie quickly interjected, dripping sarcasm. “None of us do.”

“...but,” Adeline continued, “he has had a string of women at his apartment in the past two weeks that, while I'm sure they're wonderful, have been quite questionably dressed. Or, rather, not dressed, in most cases.”

“You think he's hiring prostitutes?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Addy, I know that Lance is not a model citizen or your favorite person...but I've known him for years. Hiring prostitutes is not his style. In fact, considering his ego, quite the opposite.”

“Oh yes. I forgot that one who generally believes that he's God's gift to women wouldn't dream of paying for one.”

“It's not only that,” Stephanie replied. “He thinks that's a sleazy thing to do.”

Adeline laughed and put a slice of strawberry in her mouth.

“You were telling me a minute ago that his stripper scheme was unreasonable. Now you're defending his sleazy honor?”

“Unreasonable describes him on a daily basis. Sleazy does not.”

Adeline swallowed.

“So maybe they're not prostitutes. They should consider that career path, because they have the wardrobe down...but if he's not hiring them to sleep with him, something else is going on there.”

“He's not known for keeping the best company. Maybe they're friends of his.”

“Slutty sleepovers. That's your explanation?”

“Addy, I have to ask you something,” Stephanie said. “You've been with him three weeks and in that time, he's been as verbally abusive to you as he can possibly manage. Yet...you seem to care more about his sexual exploits and his lack of discretion around you with them than anything.”

“Do not,” Adeline said.

“It took you about a quarter of a second to say that,” Stephanie said. “Too fast. Do too.”

“He's more obvious with that. He doesn't hide it, he flaunts it around me. Like he's dying for a reaction.”

“He is,” Stephanie said. “And you're giving him one – you're jealous.”

“Am not!” Adeline cried.

“Are too. Addy, I don't blame you. Honestly, I don't. He's a good person – well, somewhere in there he's hiding one – and he deserves better than what, and who, he's keeping in his bedroom. I wouldn't want to see him flaunt his bad decisions around me either. The difference between you and me is I'm going to say something to him about it.”

“Don't do that,” Adeline said with a groan.

“I'm still his friend, honey. I have to say something to him. If it were you, I'd say something to you because friends tell you when you're making bad decisions. But don't worry, I won't mention you – at least, I won't mention how much it bothers you.”

Adeline was about to rebut her friend and deny that she was bothered at all by anything that went on in his bedroom, but her cell phone vibrated from the coffee table in front of her. She picked it up to see a new text message from Lance.

All four of my tires, slashed. Think you can give me a ride?

“Oh shit,” Adeline said as she finished reading. “Steph, I have to go. He just texted me – all four of his tires got slashed, he needs a ride.”

“I'd say oh shit too, but somehow I'm not surprised. Looks like he pissed off the wrong person this time.”

“Yeah,” Adeline said, preparing to get dressed and get out of the house. “My money's on the stripper he told he would call and never did.”

“I could fit in a joke here about the bigger the breasts, the flatter the tires, but I sense I don't have the time.”

Adeline laughed heavily. “See, this is why we're friends. I could come up with a million of them if I didn't have to get dressed and find my keys.”

“You care far too much about this one girl though, Addy,” Stephanie said. “You might be getting too close to him – so close that you actually care about him now.”

She walked into her bedroom and grabbed a pink cardigan off her dresser, throwing it over her white tank top. She slipped on a pair of ballet flats sitting by the bed and grabbed the keys off her desk.

“You were the one who encouraged me to take this job because you had this vision--”

“Feeling, Adeline James. Not a vision, not a premonition – a feeling.”

“Whatever. You're the one who encouraged me to take this job because you had a feeling we needed each other. Now you're telling me I care too much?”

“Not too much about him,” Stephanie said. “Too much about the girl. You care about what he does; you see him making bad decisions and it bothers you. And that's not as bad as you seem to think it is.”

Adeline sighed.

“As much as I'd love to argue with you so I can leave his royal pain in the ass stranded, Steph, I have a job to go do.”

“Go do your job,” Stephanie said. “It's what you do best. Don't let him get under your skin, Addy. It's what he does best.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After a quick text to him to find out exactly where he was and let him know she was on her way, Adeline drove the few minutes to his apartment building. She saw him and his car before she even parked hers – he looked upset.

Joy, she thought to herself as she pulled into a parking space. As if he's not bad enough when he's in a good mood, now I have to deal with him in a bad one.

She walked over to him and as she got closer, she noticed a distinct lack of slashes in his tires – because she couldn't see his tires at all.

“I thought you said your tires were slashed,” she said.

“Did I?” he said, looking at her with fire in his eyes.

“Yes. I remember you saying slashed. I don't, however, remember you saying they were...missing.”

“Hmm. Must have forgotten to mention that,” he said sarcastically.

She looked at the sight of his beloved Escalade, with four empty spots where his tires were supposed to be, his axle resting pathetically on top of crates.

“If your tires are gone, how do you know that they were slashed?” she asked as she slowly circled around his car, still shocked.

“Guessing,” he said.

“Did you put the car on the crates?”

“No, it was like this when I found it. I have considerate thieves.”

She chuckled.

“Glad you think this is so funny,” he said to her.

“I don't think it's funny, Lance,” she said. “I'm sorry. I'm laughing because it's unlike anything I've seen before – who steals tires and bothers to put the car on milk crates so they won't ruin the axle? It's not funny.”

He looked over and she couldn't help but let a smile slip onto her face, and then a laugh.

“I lied,” she said. “It really is funny. I'm sorry.”

“Go ahead. Get your laugh at my expense.”

“Come on. You know Steph will think this is hilarious.”

“Yes, well, Stephanie loves getting amusement at my expense as well.”

A couple minutes later, a tow truck pulled into the parking lot. Lance talked to the men while Adeline stood off to the side, out of their way, texting Stephanie.

Not slashed, Steph. STOLEN. Somebody stole his tires.

She watched the men hook up the vehicle, preparing to hoist it onto their truck, and a few seconds later her phone vibrated in her hand.

Pictures or IT DIDN'T HAPPEN.

She waited a couple minutes for Lance to turn his back and quickly took a photo of the SUV before they put it on the truck, and sent it off to Stephanie. It wasn't long before she felt the phone vibrate again.

Hahahahaha...

Adeline laughed, being careful not to raise awareness from Lance, and put her phone back in her pocket.

After the men had gotten the car on their truck and drove away, Lance walked over to her.

“I need a ride to the auto shop,” he said.

“I think that goes without saying,” she said.

“Please get it all out of your system now, because I'm not in the mood to deal with your gloating and giggling about this all day long.”

“So grumpy,” she said, then smiled at him. “Sorry, I can't help it. Let's get you to the shop and get your precious baby all fixed up.”

The twenty minute ride to the auto shop, he was completely silent. All she could do was smile and occasionally glance over at him out of the corner of her eye. She thought it best to not push him, so she said nothing the whole ride.

They pulled into the auto shop and he walked inside quickly without a word, with her following closely behind.

He went up to the counter, but she lingered away from him in the sitting area. She hated the smell of auto shops – they smelled like grease and rubber, and she thought it funny that the smell never seemed to bother men. The sound of the machines they used cut through her ear drums, so she always preferred to stay in the waiting area where it was at least at a low volume. The sound still made her anxiety rise, so she avoided the shops whenever she could.

She sat down in one of their red chairs, and grabbed a magazine off the side table – People magazine.

“It'll be a few minutes before they can even look at my car,” Lance said as he came to sit next to her. “I can't believe this.”

“The fact that someone stole the tires off your car, or that they're not jumping up to help you right away?” she asked with a grin.

“Ha. Ha. Ha,” he said, giving her a roll of his eyes. “Keep going, keep rubbing it in. I guess I deserve it, right? This is my payback for that thing a couple of weeks ago?”

“Payback isn't my style,” she said, mindlessly flipping through the pages hoping a picture would catch her eye. “It's funny. They stole your tires but took the time to put your car on milk crates. You can't say that isn't funny.”

He turned to her and looked her in the eyes.

“Do I look like I think it's funny?” he said.

“You're so grouchy,” she said. “Don't you ever get tired of that? Don't you ever get tired of being like this?”

He sighed, but to her surprise, he looked away from her instead of answering. She decided not to press the issue – obviously the incident with his car bothered him more than she thought it should.

She turned back to her magazine and flipped through several stories. It was all the typical who was wearing the best designer clothes, who was breaking up with their other halves, and what was supposed to be the best fashion lately.

“Tired and old,” Lance said.

“Huh?”

“All the stuff in that magazine is tired and old,” he said.

“We finally agree on something,” she said, flipping another page. “I deal with this stuff on a daily basis. I find that I don't care anymore.”

“Hey, now we have one thing in common.”

She looked up at him and caught the smile on his face, and smiled back. One of the mechanics was walking over to him and caught his attention, and she turned back to her magazine.

It was a couple seconds later, as he was talking to the mechanic about his car, when she turned the page and saw it – it was a small story, but big enough to catch her eye.

Right there on the page was a picture of her husband, with his arm around the waist of a mystery blonde woman that she had never seen before.

“His newest movie, set to hit theaters on November 11, is called 'Betrayal' – and it seems he knows a thing or two about it. Two-time Oscar-winning director Marcus Sutton was seen stepping out of one of Los Angeles' hottest new clubs with an unknown woman. A close friend of the family, who wishes to remain anonymous, said that Sutton's wife, a personal assistant to the stars, is currently living in New York working for a new client, while Sutton remains living in LA.

'He bounces back and forth between different cities, doing work and filming for different movies,' says the anonymous source. 'Every city it's a new woman. He always says it's completely innocent, but his wife knows nothing about it.'

Sutton and wife Adeline have been married since 2006, shortly after his first major film, 'Kidnapped,' brought in almost $20 million in its premiere week. Looking at these scandalous pictures, Sutton should probably consider naming his next film 'Trouble in Paradise.'”

She looked from the quote back to the picture, then back to the quote, feeling her chest start tightening. Who could the anonymous source be? A family friend, but who did they know that would go to the media – or even know about this? Who did they both know that wouldn't tell her about this if they knew this was going on?

It was a few seconds before she realized it was happening again – the tightening of the chest, the difficulty breathing, feeling her temperature and blood pressure rise, and feeling like the walls were slowly moving in towards her. Her ears buzzed and when she heard Lance speak to her, it again sounded like he was yelling from a mile away.

“Addy, what's wrong?”

He looked down at her, having finished with the mechanic and telling her that he was ready to leave, and saw her breathing heavily and tears welling up in her eyes.

“Adeline,” he said again, but got no reaction.

“Is she okay?” the young mechanic asked him.

“I'm not sure,” he responded.

Lance kneeled down next to Adeline and that's when he realized that she was acting the same way that she had that night she suddenly ditched him for dinner. He grabbed her arm, gently shaking it.

“Addy, talk to me.”

“I'm not an expert,” the mechanic said to him, “but I have a cousin who sometimes has panic attacks, and she looks that exact same way when she's having one.”

“Panic attacks?” Lance said, looking up at him.

“Yeah. Your anxiety rises so high that you can't handle it anymore – you can hardly breathe, you feel faint, feel like someone's choking you...my cousin screams at people because she's so scared. It's pretty awful, man.”

“She screams at people, huh?”

“Yeah. We're always afraid to touch her, because we don't know whether she'll snap and try to hurt someone.”

Lance couldn't help but recall the night he was driving the two of them to dinner, and how she had gone from smiling and laughing to screaming in a matter of minutes. She had looked ill, like she couldn't breathe – exactly like she looked now.

“So what do I do for her?” he asked. “Do I call 911? Drive her to the hospital?”

“No, you don't need to do that,” he said. “It has to pass on its own. You might want to get her to a comfortable place, get her some cold water, talk her down from it – things like that.”

Lance sat down in the chair next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“You guys got some water around here until I can get her home?”

“Yeah, let me go get you one.”

The mechanic walked away to a room in the back, and Lance grasped Adeline's shoulder.

“Addy, talk to me.”

“Marc,” she said. She attempted to say more, but her vocal chords failed her, so she grabbed the magazine in her lap with her shaky hand and shoved it toward him feebly.

He took it from her lap and searched the page before he saw it. He didn't know that much about Adeline's life outside of her job, but he knew enough to know that the man in the picture was her husband – but that woman was definitely not Adeline.

After a couple minutes, the mechanic brought him a small bottle of water and as he took off the cap and handed it to her, he searched for something to say to her. He could only think of one thing to say, with the state she was in now.

“It'll be okay. I'm here.”

Chapter 6 – Damaged

Adeline sat in the passenger seat of her own car, occasionally sipping out of the bottle he had given her, unsure of what to say. This attack had lasted about thirty minutes. He had sat with her for a couple of those in the auto shop, but once she had calmed down enough to stop shaking he had helped her out to the car.

He had put her in the passenger seat, climbed into her driver's seat, and they had sat there since – her struggling to breathe, him struggling to say something that might help.

“I'm sorry,” she finally said to him. She twisted the almost-empty bottle in both hands and looked down at her lap, almost feeling shame for what had happened.

“Sorry for what?” he said.

“I don't know. Sorry for freaking out again, sorry that you had to see it, sorry that you had to sit here helpless.”

“Those are pretty stupid things to be sorry for,” he said with a smile. “I thought you were going to say you were sorry for not telling me the first time it happened, so when it happened again I could be a little more...prepared for it.”

“Yeah,” she said, feeling a little more shame creep in. “I'm sorry for that too.”

“I was kidding.” He looked over at her and smiled again. “Mostly, anyway. Why didn't you tell me what happened that night?”

“That I'm literally a nervous wreck? Yeah, that's really something I'm comfortable telling you outright.”

“You're not a wreck,” he said. “You have an anxiety disorder. When you started calming down, I did a little research on my phone. The trouble breathing, the tunnel vision, the screaming...these happen a lot, don't they?”

She wanted to speak, but all she could do was nod her head.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. He turned the keys in the ignition and threw the car into reverse. “Let's get you home.”

They were both quiet on the drive home. By that time, it was almost noon and the traffic was heavier from people getting off work to grab their lunch.

As they were stalled at a red light, she got up the courage to look over at him. He had his sunglasses on, but the rest of his face was covered with concern.

That's when she finally saw it – the real Lance. This was what Stephanie had talked about for the past month. This is the man that Stephanie saw behind the nasty attitude.

He actually was human.

The light turned green and as he slowly followed traffic, she looked away from him. She couldn't bear to look at him, knowing the things she had said to him and what she had thought about him behind his back.

She had been an awful person. To her, it was no excuse that he had been awful too. As mean as he had sometimes been – he had shown her too many good moments, moments where he made an effort to get to know her. She had blown him off and then opened an old wound to intentionally hurt him.

She couldn't excuse herself.

A few minutes later he pulled into her parking lot and parked the car. As she was preparing to get out of the car, he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the car door.

“Are you grabbing a cab?” she asked.

“Not for a while,” he said. “I'm staying with you to make sure you'll be okay.”

Her own shock hit her, and he must have saw it on her face.

“That's okay, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “That's great, in fact. I didn't expect it, that's all.”

They rode the elevator up her building in silence. She wasn't sure what to say to him – after all, for the past three weeks, the only side of him she had seen was the unpleasant one. Suddenly, he had become more than pleasant. This was a side she wasn't used to seeing.

They got off the elevator and walked a couple doors down to her apartment door. When he stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to do, she smiled.

“You have my keys,” she said shyly. “My apartment key is on my keychain.”

“Oh,” he said, then laughed.

“The place is a little unkempt,” she said as he unlocked the door. “I'm usually so busy, I don't get a chance to unpack a lot.”

“The first thing you do when you come into my apartment every morning is pick up my dirty clothes and dishes,” he said as he pushed open the door. “You'll have to do a little better than a few unpacked boxes to impress the king of bachelorhood.”

She stepped past him into her apartment, immediately self-conscience about him seeing the place. It wasn't as put together as his place was. She had only finally had time to get her dishes and silverware unpacked the weekend before, and her living room was still littered with boxes of movies, pictures, and a few of her favorite books and magazines.

“At least I finally have a place for you to sit,” she said as she grabbed the door and shut it behind him.

“This is a nice place,” he said as he looked around. “I never saw the place when Stephanie was living here.”

“It's a place,” she said with a shrug. “It's a little smaller than what I'm used to living in, but since I'm here alone...” She paused. “You know, it's okay.”

“I don't want to be nosy, but I have to ask – why are you here alone? Why didn't your husband move with you?”

“He does most of his business out of LA, Paris, Prague...whatever pretentious and exotic location that his filming sends him to,” she said after a pause. “He never comes to New York unless he absolutely has to, he hates the place; he figured if he moved with me, he'd spend most of his time on a plane or in another city anyway. So we decided it would be best if I came alone.”

“That's a little cold,” he said.

“You don't know my husband very well,” she said.

He wandered over to the side table where he saw a black and white photo in a brushed silver frame – obviously a wedding photo, since he saw Adeline in a gown.

“This is you and him?” he asked her.

“Yeah. That's our wedding photo.”

He looked at the photo for a few seconds, focusing more on her than her husband. He pored over every detail of her that he could see – creamy, smooth skin, the teardrop-shaped diamond earrings, the curly wisps of hair that had fallen out of her up-do – and particularly her smile. He hadn't ever seen that smile.

“You look happy,” he said. “And you look beautiful.”

Outwardly, she blushed; inwardly, she felt her heart jump.

“You want some coffee?” she asked. “It's been a bit of a rough morning.”

“Like I need the caffeine,” he said. “But yes.”

While she brewed the coffee, he walked around her living room, taking in every detail. Most of the furniture in her living room was muted earth tone colors, which didn't surprise him when he considered her mostly muted personality. All her wood furniture was dark and well taken care of, as if she dusted it every day. Aside from a few boxes, everything was clean and tidy compared to his apartment. If he had walked in without knowing her, he would immediately know it was a woman's apartment.

It surprised him that she didn't have many pictures out. Aside from the wedding photo on the end table and two other photos – one of her and her husband, and a photo of her with Stephanie – there was no visual cue to the owner of the apartment anywhere. She had a small wooden chest sitting by her couch, with a woven basket on top of it, full of neatly coiled balls of yarn. Her TV and entertainment center were small, unlike what he had at home. Across the top of the couch laid a crocheted afghan that looked old enough to be from the late-70's.

The last place his eyes took him was to a small bookcase in one of her corners. Beside it sat one of her boxes, half-full of small paperback books. Unpacked on the shelves were a handful of others – a leather-backed Bible, Emma, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, Les Misérables, and Northanger Abbey just on the first shelf. On the second, she had chaotically stacked a random collection of Nora Roberts, Julie Garwood, Patricia Cornwell and Nicholas Sparks books. Hiding in the corner on the third and last shelf, closest to the box, were a couple of tattered Harlequin paperbacks, and he smiled.

Of course; she's a woman, he thought to himself.

“You sure are nosy.”

Her voice startled him and he stood up in a hurry, turning around to see her putting two coffee mugs on the table in front of the couch.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was checking out your books. You have quite a collection here.”

“Oh, yeah, I haven't gotten most of those unpacked yet. I'm working on it.”

He knelt down to look again. “You have some great classics here.” He picked up one of the tattered romance paperbacks and held it up with a smile. “And then you have some hidden gems.”

“Oh,” she said, blushing slightly. “Jeez, don't look at those. Those are mostly my Nana's. It's her fault – I'm quite embarrassed by the fact that I like those because of her.”

“I think you have a good range. I respect your tastes – to be honest, I tried to make it through some of these and I don't have the attention span.”

“Well,” she said with a smile, “there's no surprise there.”

They both sat down on the couch, right next to each other.

“So,” he said, “I was looking through your living room and I realized that I don't know a lot about you.”

“I guess we've never taken the time to get to know each other that well, have we?”

“Not really. So did you grow up in LA?”

“No.” She sipped out of her mug and pulled her legs underneath her body. “Actually, I grew up here in New York.”

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“Yeah. Lower Manhattan until I was eleven, and then I moved to Hoboken. I didn't move to LA until I graduated high school. I went to USC on a full scholarship.”

“Pretty impressive,” he said. “How did you meet Stephanie?”

“Well, you know her and her family came here from Australia when she was young – when they moved to Manhattan, she lived a few houses down from me. After I moved to Hoboken we didn't go to the same school so we didn't see each other anymore, but we found each other at USC. Funny thing that the two of us both went to school to pursue the same thing.”

“Why did you move to Los Angeles anyway?”

“I've always had a bad case of stars in the eyes. My Nana was a huge fan of stars like Elizabeth Taylor, Marilyn Monroe, and Audrey Hepburn. She always talked about how it would be nice to be them – rich, beautiful, and spending most of your days sunbathing by the beach. Naturally, I picked that up and I moved to LA because I thought it would be like that – I was three years into my degree before I realized that it was nothing like that, but by that time I had gone too far to quit.”

“Don't we all wish it was actually like that,” he said with a laugh. He looked over and saw the basket from before, and curiosity piqued him. “What is that?” he said as he pointed at it.

She looked over at the basket and then back at him.

“Oh, that's my knitting stuff.”

“No way,” he said.

“No way what?”

“You don't seem like a person who would knit,” he said.

“My Nana taught me when I was about fourteen. She crocheted, too – mostly afghans and stuff though.”

She looked behind her on the couch at the afghan thrown over the back. She ran a hand over it gently.

“I tried to make one of these a long time ago and I had zero patience for it because these things take forever. I'm more of a 'scarf that turns into a potholder because it takes too long' person. But Nana had all the patience in the world for this. For six years I don't think I ever saw her without a project in her hands, unless she was taking care of me.”

“Your Nana's important to you, I take it.”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Do your parents still live around this area?”

She looked away from him.

“My parents died when I was eleven years old.”

The energy in the room became somber.

“What happened?” he asked.

“They went to the Catskills for their anniversary. My dad's boss owned a cabin there and he let them use it for the weekend. I stayed with Nana in Hoboken for the weekend, and I remember that I missed them so much that she let me play with her antique China tea sets to help me feel better. She let me set up a tea party on the picnic table outside and brought out all my stuffed animals, and she made cookies and little muffins. We played tea party all weekend and I had so much fun that I forgot all about missing my parents.”

The grin on her face made him smile.

“My parents were the adventurous type,” she said, the smile disappearing. “If they had a choice they would take the winding mountain road over the safe and straight one. But my dad was horrible with directions – every single road trip we took, he always got us lost at least once. On the way back to New Jersey he was looking for his exit. There was a guy in a van driving the opposite way.”

Lance noticed that she was starting to choke up.

“He was too busy trying to find a good radio station, and he wasn't paying attention to the road. He, um...he veered into my dad's lane, my dad didn't see him in time, and they ended up colliding head-on. My parent's car flipped three times and finally landed upside-down on the road. The guy in the van walked away with a broken leg, a fractured wrist, a couple broken ribs and whiplash – my parents died on impact.”

He reached over and grabbed her hand, and even though she wondered why, she grasped it tightly.

“All I remember about that Sunday is that Nana got a phone call and she sat in her rocking chair and cried. That night I asked her why my parents hadn't come to pick me up yet because I had school the next day, and she told me that they were gone, and I'd be living with her from now on. I don't remember moving my stuff into her house, or the funeral. I vaguely remember leaving all my friends behind in Manhattan and saying goodbye. My Nana became my best friend.”

“She sounds like a great person,” he said. “I'd love to meet her.”

“Nana's gone, too,” she said, choking up again. “I was working in LA when she died. Her next-door neighbor, her best friend for over sixty years...that's who called me. A couple days before it happened I had talked to her on the phone, and I asked her how she did it, how she took me in and cared for me at her age, no second thoughts about it. She didn't have an answer – she didn't even know why I would ask such a question, why it would even cross my mind that she wouldn't take care of me. That's who she was. Anyway, I stayed in Jersey long enough to bury her, settle the will and sell the house. I think I was there a month and when I left for LA again, I told myself I would never come back to Jersey or New York. I've ended up coming back twice.”

“Addy...I'm so sorry.”

He squeezed her hand one more time, and she wiped away a tear.

“What was the other time for?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said you've come back to New York twice since then – obviously this is the second time. What was the first time for?”

For a moment she didn't say anything, nor did she look at him. There was a brief time that she closed her eyes, exhaled a breath, and he saw another tear slide down her cheek.

“Addy?”

“I'm sorry,” she said. When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “I'm sorry that I have to do this, and it's nothing personal, but I need some time. I can't do this today.”

Before he could respond, she stood up from the couch, grabbed both coffee mugs off the table, and carried them into the kitchen.

He sat stunned, his mouth hanging. He had thought it was going well, despite the fact he had inadvertently brought up some memories that were obviously hard for her. Had he said too much, or gone too far?

“Okay,” he finally said when she walked back in the room. “Um...I guess I'll go outside and call a cab.”

“I know I keep doing this to you, blowing you off,” she said. “But this time, I'm really sorry. I just...I can't.”

“It's fine. I just want to make sure you're going to be okay,” he said.

“I'll be fine, eventually.”

Hearing what he needed to hear, that she would be okay, he started walking toward the door. She opened it for him and after he passed the threshold, he was about to head toward her elevator.

“Lance...”

He turned to her, to see her looking at him.

“All you need to know right now is...I'm damaged,” she said. “I think I'm damaged beyond repair. Marc can't fix me, Steph can't fix me...neither can you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, puzzled.

“Please don't try to fix me,” she said.

She closed the door and he heard the deadbolt click. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and walked towards the elevator, preparing himself to stand out in the chilly air waiting for his cab.

She was amazing – and he had to figure her out.

Chapter 7 – Breathe (Pt. 1)

Lance sat at the kitchen table early the next morning, playing back through the day before. He hadn't been able to sleep at all; whenever he tried, he could only hear her voice.

“Please don't try to fix me.”

He couldn't decode her, as hard as he tried. When he thought he had her figured out, thought that she was nothing more than a moody bitch who didn't like him, yesterday had changed everything. The moment he thought things had changed between them and they were starting to move past hating each other, she kicked him out of her apartment...and told him not to try to fix her.

She was right; she was damaged. Emotionally, anyway. He didn't think she was beyond repair. But he couldn't quite get her words out of his head.

As he was finishing the last of his coffee, he heard his door unlock and then close heavily. He heard her walking around to the kitchen and she appeared in the kitchen entryway, hauling her bag and books along with her.

She looked up and jumped back slightly when she saw him, startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” she said. “I'm surprised you're up. You're never up this early. In fact...what are you doing up?”

“I've been up,” he said. “I couldn't sleep last night.”

“At all?”

“At all.”

“That's miserable,” she said, and put her bag and books on the table opposite of him. “Want me to top off your coffee?”

“No, I'm good,” he said, watching her walk over to the counter and fill a cup of her own. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I'm not having a nervous breakdown this morning,” she said, smiling at him. “If that's what you mean.”

“I guess that's kind of what I mean,” he said.

“I called Marc.”

He judged her face, watching as she drank her coffee against the counter, waiting for what she would say.

“Yeah? And?”

“And it's just as I thought.”

“So it's true,” he said, feeling a stab of disappointment for her.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head.

“No?”

“No. They're friends he takes to events when I'm not around to go. Female friends, completely innocent – typical media blowing everything out of proportion, all they want is a story.”

“Addy – do you really believe that?”

She took another drink and smiled at him.

“Why wouldn't I?”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I would think it's pretty obvious, Ad.”

“I told you, Lance – please don't call me Ad.”

Expressionless, she turned on her heels and poured more coffee into her mug.

“He's my husband,” she said. “Up until I came here, he was the only person I had in my life. After my job is done here, he'll be the only person I have in my life. I have to trust him. I do trust him. He has no reason to lie to me.”

“No reason to lie...except for the reason that he's out there having sex with every woman he meets.”

“You're one to talk.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh please.” She slammed her mug down on the counter and stalked toward him. “In the past two weeks you've had more women than a King of England has wives.”

He chuckled, which turned into a laugh.

“I'm glad it's so funny to you,” she said. “You lousy, rotten little...stripper fucker.”

“Wow, Adeline,” he said with a laugh.

“Well, it's the truth. You brought a stripper home and you fucked her. And in two week's time you brought home about ten other women that you did the same thing with. It was horrible watching that.”

“Adeline, can I tell you something?”

“What?”

“I didn't sleep with any of those women.”

She furrowed her eyes at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Lisette is a friend of mine. And yes, she is a stripper. I was mad at you the night you blew me off for dinner, so I went out and I ended up running into Lisette. She asked me why I was upset so I told her, and she suggested that maybe I should get you back somehow. So I paid her to come sleep at my apartment and be there the next morning so you'd see her in the kitchen half-naked. It was all an elaborate little act. I knew you'd get mad about it. And then after Lisette left, I realized that it was nice having someone here at the apartment to talk to. So that was what those women were here for.”

“So you paid women to spend the night and keep you company?”

“I wouldn't say I paid them,” he said. “I took them to dinner, or we ordered in and watched movies. Most of them found it refreshing that a man took an interest in them with no sexual motive. I guess that's why they did it.”

“Lance, that should be the saddest, most pathetic thing I've heard all week – but with you, it's endearing. Why in the world would you do that?”

“Because I finally realized that I'm lonely.”

“If you're lonely, you can tell me,” she said. “You don't need to pick up strange women that you don't even know to come stay with you. If you're that lonely, I'll come stay with you.”

“No you wouldn't,” he said with a chuckle. “You don't even like me.”

“You're half-right. I didn't like you. Two weeks ago I probably wouldn't have done it – but now I'm telling you, if you're lonely and want some company...call me. I'll come over.”

“You suppose that's what your husband tells those other women, too?”

She sighed, and he went silent, satisfied that he had made his point.

After a few moments of silence, they sat down to go over his schedule like they did every morning.

“I have a question to ask you,” he said after she had gone over his last commitment for the day and closed her planner.

“I don't want to talk about my husband anymore,” she said.

“It's not about that.”

“Fine, then proceed.”

He chuckled at her snippy professional tone.

“Some of my friends asked me out to a club tonight,” he said.

“Haven't you done enough clubbing lately?”

“I went out alone those nights,” he said. “So it was more sitting at the bar moping than it was clubbing.”

“So what, you need my permission or something?” she said.

“No. Actually, I'd like you to come with me. I need a ride since my car's still in the shop, and I think you could use a night out anyway.”

“Oh no, no, no,” she said. “I don't go out clubbing.”

“Why?”

“I just...don't,” she said with a stutter, failing to come up with a good reason.

As she thought about it, she had always avoided nightlife. She had always been too busy to go out to bars and nightclubs – at least, that's what she told herself. In college, her fellow classmates had gone out but she had been too tired. After she married, she entered straight into the workforce and was still too tired. Truthfully, when she wasn't tired, she didn't see a reason to go out.

Going out was either for fun or to find a husband, she vaguely remembered her Nana telling her once; she could have fun at home and she already had one of those.

“Come with me,” he said. “You'll get to meet my friends – you need to meet the people I spend a lot of my time with, since you're the one handling all my time.”

“I don't know,” she said, feeling her stomach knot up.

“You'll have a good time, I promise. My friends never disappoint. Besides, you'll be able to keep me in line. Isn't that what you love to do?”

“There's no possible way to keep you in line,” she said with a smile.

“Come on.”

“I'm not very comfortable with the idea.”

“My friends are awesome. I think you'll get along great with them. And it's Thursday so it's not like there will be a lot of people there. You need to have some fun, Adeline – you're too stressed out.”

The look in his eyes told her that he was concerned for her. It was the same look he had shown the day before, so she knew it was genuine.

“It's not like you have anything better to do,” he said.

This was true; her huge plans for the evening included unpacking one or two more boxes, then stripping down to pajamas and curling up with a book, hoping she didn't fall asleep on the couch and drool on the pages. She might have talked to him last night, but Marc had recently jetted off to Italy and was far too busy drinking Chianti and studying modern Italian cinema to spend much time on the phone. Forget internet communication – he wasn't interested in anything like that either.

She had one friend – Stephanie – and she was in California. Where Adeline should be.

But Adeline wasn't in California. She'd left it behind her. She was here now, and she was realizing that if she didn't want to end up a twenty-seven-year-old spinster who holed herself up in her apartment, she might as well try to be somewhat sociable.

“I'll go and stay a couple hours,” she said. “But if you're not done by one, you'll have to find your own ride home.”

“Two,” he said.

“1:15 at the latest,” she said.

“1:45, and I'll make it worth your while.”

He had his usual slick grin on his face.

“And how would you make it worth my while?” she asked.

“I don't know – I could take you out to dinner, or lunch...maybe even breakfast, if you were up to it.”

She vaguely questioned in her mind – was he flirting with her?

She chuckled, and couldn't help but smile.

“1:30, and I prefer a home-cooked breakfast.” She grabbed her bag and started putting all her things in it. “Toast, bacon, eggs lightly scrambled, coffee and orange juice. Better not disappoint, I'm picky about my breakfast.”

“I'm from Mississippi,” he said. “My cooking never disappoints.”

“Be that as it may, I'll save the offer for one of the many other mornings I'll be here,” she said as she stood up and threw her bag over her shoulder. “You'll have to catch a cab to get around, I have some errands to run and I'll be busy all day. But I can pick you up tonight around ten, if that's okay.”

“Fine with me,” he said. “I hope your husband won't mind that you're going out with me.”

She smiled at the disdain in his voice as he said husband.

“He doesn't have to know. Besides, he's probably too busy riding some gondola down a canal to care.”

“I could so easily turn that into a sexual reference,” he said. “But I won't.”

“I'm sure you could,” she said with a laugh.

She turned, getting ready to leave, but then stopped and turned back.

“I have a question that's been burning in my head all morning.”

“What's that?”

“You said the thing with Lisette was all an act, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So the whole surgery thing...you told her to say that? As part of your 'script'?”

“Nope,” he said. “She's still a blonde – she actually believed that one.”

She laughed heartily and started to walk away again, but turned back once more.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she told him. “About when you feel lonely, you can call me. You don't have to keep pretending that you're fine.”

“What makes you think I'm pretending, especially considering I offered up my lie so easily?” he asked.

“You act like it's no big deal – when actually it seems like a cry for help. You want me to think you're fine, and I think that's a lie you don't even believe yourself.”

“Likewise, I don't think you believe the lies you're telling yourself either,” he said. “You can't tell me you really trust your husband.”

He thought she would get upset at him, but instead he looked up to see her smiling.

“Well, I guess we both have things to work on then,” she said. “Maybe Steph was right – we're on more even ground than we thought.”

With that, she readjusted her bag over her shoulder and finally turned to walk out. When he heard the door close, he reached over to his side and grabbed the People magazine under the stack of newspapers and other magazines.

He turned to the page and looked at the two pictures he'd stared at all night as he had been unable to sleep; the same picture of her husband that had thrown her into a panic, and on the opposite page, the picture of Mackenzie – the one that Adeline had obviously missed.

She was right that he wasn't okay, but she was wrong that he didn't believe that lie. He'd lied to himself so long, telling himself that he was fine, that it was hard to convince himself otherwise now. But it was much easier to focus on somebody who wasn't himself.

He sighed and looked away from Mackenzie and back over to the photo of Marc.

“What have you done to mess her up so badly?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “And what in the world am I going to do to fix it?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I really don't know why I'm doing this,” Adeline yelled to him over the loud music as they sat down at the bar.

“Because I asked you to,” Lance said with a smile as he looked over at her.

“Yeah, that's a good reason,” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Because if you asked me to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'd totally do that, too.”

Her anxiety level had raised the minute they walked into the club together. It was loaded with people, for one thing. Apparently, they had two different ideas of what 'not a lot' meant in regards to people. The music was decent – of course, all she could tell was that it was a Lil' Wayne song, and couldn't make out any words – but it was too loud and hurt her head. The dark atmosphere combined with the bright, colorful dancing lights and the lingering smell of stale cigarette smoke from when it was still legal to smoke inside made it worse.

“Have I forgotten to mention that people with anxiety issues don't tend to do too well in social situations?” she asked him.

“Your whole job is a social situation,” he said. “You do fine there.”

“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head. “Don't go there. My job is not a social situation. My job is one of the most anti-social activities I do during the day, because most of the time the only person I interact with on a regular basis is my client. I talk on the phone a lot. The most social my job gets is when my client asks me to be a patsy date to an awards show or some charity event for sick kids. And all I have to do is show up in one photograph to prove I was there – then I can hide in the bathroom pretending to powder my nose.”

“Too bad for you there's no photographers around. I'll have to call ahead to the paparazzi next time I decide to drag you outside of your plastic bubble.”

She rolled her eyes and looked away from him. Of course he was being sarcastic; she shouldn't have expected any less from him. And he was right, too, as much as she didn't want to admit it. She always kept herself so introverted and sheltered. She had never been to a club before.

And as nervous as it made her, as uncomfortable as she was – she had to say that she was glad she had come. She was having a minute amount of fun.

She was actually so excited before she had picked him up that she had dressed the part; or at least, what she thought might be the part. She had pulled out a tight, long-sleeved black dress, a pair of leggings, and some fur-lined boots she hadn't worn in about a year. She'd put on a little more eyeshadow, a little more mascara, and puckered up her lips to apply a bit more lipgloss than she normally did. She had even pulled her hair out of its normal ponytail and fluffed it up a bit with some hairspray to get light waves.

“You look amazing,” he had told her when she showed up on his doorstep at five 'til ten. For a moment, she smiled, and he smiled back, and it all felt so normal. Like the two of them did this every day.

But soon, that normalcy faded, and here she was.

“Addy,” he said, in the most unusual soft tone for him, “relax. Breathe. You'll be fine. These people are only people. My friends should be here any minute now, then we'll find a booth; and if you want, we'll find one in the darkest corner of this club. What matters is that you got out of the house, and you're here with me now, and you're going to have fun.”

“I'm not so sure about that,” she said, even as she smiled at him.

He motioned to the bartender.

“You need something to loosen you up,” he said. “I know...you need an Orgasm.”

She tensed up, feeling her eyebrows raise.

“I, uh...I appreciate the offer, Lance, but I'm not sure that's appropriate.”

He paused, smiling when he realized what he'd said.

“No, Addy, I meant the drink. An Orgasm is a drink.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling full embarrassment. “Oh, God. I could die.”

“It's nice to know the offer is appreciated, though,” he said, holding back laughter as the bartender approached. He shot her a cheeky grin. “Maybe you need something a bit stronger.”

Chapter 8 – Breathe (Pt. 2)

His friends Jamie-Lynn and Joanna had shown up about five minutes later. Adeline was still trying to get over her embarrassment as he was introducing them. She didn't want him to think that's what she was thinking about at the moment. How humiliating! But how many different ways could you take it when someone told you that you needed an orgasm – especially if you didn't know it was a drink!

He had gotten his laugh at her expense and quickly moved on when the two women showed up, leading right into introducing them with a smile on his face.

“You're Lance's new assistant, right?” Joanna had said to her, Jamie-Lynn close at her side.

“Unfortunately,” Adeline responded, shaking both of the women's hands.

Both of them laughed.

“You sound like Stephanie,” Jamie said.

“We're cut from the same cloth,” she said. “Good thing, I don't know if anybody else could stand him this long.”

“I feel ganged up on already,” Lance said. “Guess that's the price I pay for hanging around the hen house.”

Joanna pursed her lips and shoved her pointer finger into Lance's face as he laughed.

“You better watch it tonight,” she said. “You're outnumbered and we have Adeline on our side this time, mister.”

“Crap,” he said flatly, less than intimidated by her tiny finger. “I better buy the first round of drinks then.”

They started to walk away from the bar when Jamie turned to Adeline.

“It always has to be the cock that starts trouble in the hen house,” she said.

After two hours, Adeline had finally settled into comfort with the group – due in part to the three rounds of drinks they had all consumed. She preferred it when Joanna and Jamie were buying the drinks, because they had so far made the best choices of drinks for her. She felt so out of place, not knowing her way around good party drinks. She had only ever drank a few beers in her day, which she wasn't crazy about, and sipped some champagne at a couple of events. Occasionally she would have a glass of wine at the end of a long day with Marc, but as far as most of these fruity mixed drinks were concerned, she was clueless.

Joanna had just finished showing Adeline a few of the pictures from her phone when Jamie looked at everyone's almost empty glasses.

“We're getting too close to empty for comfort,” she said.

“I guess it's my turn,” Adeline said. She was thankful her dress had small, discreet pockets that she had shoved a few bills and her brand new New York ID in before she left, because she had left her purse at home.

“You're my guest,” Lance said. “Let me get them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it's no problem.” He smiled, then scooted away from her to leave the booth. Before he stood, he brushed her arm with his hand lightly. “I'll be right back.”

The three girls watched him walk towards the bar.

“Wow,” Joanna said after he was out of earshot. “He's usually the first to remind someone that they're not carrying their fair share of the bill.”

“And he's not hesitant to do it either,” Jamie-Lynn said. “It's amazing what you've done to him, Addy.”

She smiled.

“I doubt it had anything to do with me. He's not afraid to remind me that I'm not his favorite person.”

“Yeah, and I'm the Pope,” Joanna said with a smile.

“That must make me the Dali Llama,” Jamie responded. “Don't let him make you believe that, sweetie. We both see the way he looks at you, the way he acts around you--”

“The way he acts around other people since he's been around you,” Joanna interrupted.

“How does he look at me?” Adeline questioned with a chuckle.

Jamie paused.

“Like Mackenzie has risen from the dead in front of him.”

Adeline laughed out loud. “I think the two of you are mistaken. I mean, we can barely get along as it is now.”

“Honey, he hasn't looked at anyone like he used to look at Mackenzie,” Joanna said. “That is, not until you came along.”

Joanna and Jamie exchanged a look and a smile with each other.

“What was that look for?” Adeline asked, smiling herself.

The two of them kept looking only at each other.

“You really think so?” Joanna said to Jamie.

“I do,” Jamie responded.

Joanna's eyes raised affirmatively.

“It has been a while, he's had time...”

Maybe it was the alcohol – in fact it was almost definitely the alcohol – but suddenly Adeline felt daring enough to speak up.

“You two better tell me what's going on, or I'll be the only one in the room who doesn't know!”

Joanna gave Jamie one final look before she turned to Adeline.

“He's falling in love with you,” she said.

Adeline's natural reaction was to laugh.

“Now I know you're mistaken. There's no way he's falling for me – he just stopped treating me like the garbage under his feet. My first week, he had me filling up his gas tank every day and picking up things that had already been dry cleaned so he didn't have to see me. He calls me princess on a regular basis. He hired a stripper to ambush me half-naked.”

“Not Lance's finest moments,” Jamie said. “But you have to peel back a layer and see what's underneath that.”

“Oh yeah? And tell me, what's underneath that?”

“You know he adored Stephanie,” Jamie said. “But he called her princess and much worse all the time. It's a term of endearment, not as insult – as much as he tries to make it one. The first week after Mackenzie left, he shut her out of his apartment completely and wouldn't come out or let her inside. The week after that, she was the only one he would let in. It was weeks before he got back to his normal life.”

“I didn't see him for two months,” Joanna said. “I normally see him every couple of weeks. I tried to convince him to come to dinner, or we could order into his apartment, but I got nothing. Sometimes he wouldn't even answer the phone.”

“Sometimes he still doesn't,” Jamie responded. “Talking about Mackenzie is off-limits. He has a hard time letting in me, Joanna, and Joey, his best friends – the fact that he invited you to dinner that night is amazing. Hell, the fact that he's letting you in at all is a miracle.”

“I had no idea,” Adeline said quietly. “He never talks about it.”

“No, he wouldn't. The subject's still too fresh. He's too bitter.”

“I tell him all the time he reminds me of the little old man in the rocking chair on the porch, all that's missing is him yelling at kids to get off his lawn,” Joanna said.

“I don't think he wants to be like this,” Jamie said. “But I don't think he can help it. He's in so much pain and he won't talk about it. Can you imagine losing someone you love and keeping it bottled inside like that?”

Adeline exhaled a breath. In fact, she did. She was suddenly glad that she wasn't the only one keeping secrets.

As the girls finished talking, he came back and sat at the table, a tray full of drinks.

“Some crazy pink concoction for the ladies, beer for me,” he said as he looked at Adeline. “I'm slowing down in case I need to drive tonight. Speaking of, it's almost 1:15 and our deal was 1:30, so we'll finish these drinks and leave, okay?”

“Dance with me.”

She blurted it out so quickly that not only did it surprise everyone at the table, but it surprised her as well.

“Are you drunk?” he said with a smile.

“No. Dance with me,” she responded.

For the first time, she saw him caught completely off-guard. He looked from her briefly over to Jamie-Lynn and Joanna, who were almost as shocked as he was.

“Okay,” he said. “Let's go.”

As he led her to the dance floor, she had no idea what compelled her to ask him to dance with her. If she didn't have the alcohol pulsing through her blood stream, she would have stopped and yanked him back to the table to finish her drink and retreat home quickly.

Halfway to the floor, the lighthearted dance-pop song that had been playing ended, and the first notes of a slow song started. A few couples left as the two of them found a place among the stragglers.

He immediately pulled her in, keeping a bit of space between them.

“You're sure you want to dance to this song?” he said.

“Isn't that why we're out here?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I assumed maybe it was too...slow,” he said with a grin.

“It is called a slow song, after all,” she said, returning the grin.

She knew what he meant – she hadn't accounted for a slow song either. All the other couples on the floor held hands tightly and stared each other in the eyes, while the men held their women close to them as if they never wanted to let them go. It increased the tension between them, especially for her.

When he didn't respond, she grabbed his other hand and lightly laced her fingers through it, making sure to keep the distance between them reasonable.

“You dragged me to this club,” she said, placing her other arm on his shoulder. “Now you have to at least dance with me.”

After a few hesitant moments, they became more comfortable, and by the second verse they had a slow rhythm down. They moved smoothly together, calmly silent.

“So you like my friends?” he asked her to break the silence.

“Love them,” she responded, moving with him in small circles. “I could see myself becoming good friends with them.”

“I saw the three of you having a chat while I was getting the drinks. What was that all about?”

She smiled knowingly. “Nothing. Not important at all. Just the hens clucking, you know.”

He smiled, remembering his remark from earlier.

“I'm glad you like them. They're two of my best friends – very special to me. It wouldn't be good if you couldn't get along with them. I know it doesn't seem like it sometimes, but I think you're a great person, Ad.”

She winced hearing the nickname.

“Why don't you want me to call you that?” he asked, noticing her facial expression change.

She swallowed deeply before looking him in the eyes.

“My daddy used to call me Ad.”

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I keep hitting that sore spot. I don't mean to.”

“It's okay. It takes me off-guard, that's all. Nobody calls me that anymore. Stephanie knows that's what my dad used to call me, so she stays away from it. Everybody else calls me Addy.”

“If it helps, you can call me James,” he said. “Or Lansten, that's worse. I hate that nickname.”

“I don't hate you that much,” she said with a smile.

When he smiled back, she relaxed.

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, “you can call me Ad.”

As they danced, they were now like any of the other couples on the dance floor – they looked each other in the eyes and without knowing, they had started dancing closer to each other.

But when the last notes of the song faded and the next song started, he tightened his grip on her hand and suddenly twirled her in front of him. It took her by surprise and by the time he pulled her back into him, she was laughing.

“It was getting too serious,” he said.

“It's getting stuffy in here, too,” she responded. “Let's go for a walk.”

They left the dance floor, letting other people fill in the spot they had taken up. She went outside to get a breath of fresh air while he grabbed their coats from the booth and said goodbye to his friends.

She leaned her back against the cold brick while she waited for him, letting the air cool off her skin. She closed her eyes and tried to sort out what she was feeling. She hadn't let anyone in like that in years. She felt...confused. Dizzy – and not from the alcohol. She felt like she could breathe, like an elephant had lifted off her chest.

He was falling in love with her?

She couldn't help but think of the first night they met, when Stephanie took them to dinner. The way he had shaken her hand and walked off callously. How he hadn't held the door open for her, and she nearly ran into it head-first. Neither of them wanted to look across the table at each other, much less talk to each other.

“Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes to see him standing there, holding her coat out to her, looking at her curiously.

“You're grinning from ear to ear,” he said. “Are you sure you're not drunk? You had quite a bit tonight.”

She tried to search for something to say, but words failed her. All she could do was smile, hide her face away from him with her hand, and let out a satisfied sigh before she walked away.

He followed behind her, hands in his coat pockets, quickly catching up. They walked silently for the first few blocks.

“I'm glad you came tonight,” he finally said.

“I had fun. I didn't think I would, but I did.”

“I knew you would, if you loosened up a little.”

“What's that supposed to mean, anyway?” she asked.

“I don't know if you've noticed, but you're a little...uptight.”

She smiled. If he'd said it a week ago, she would have taken offense at it. Not tonight – but that didn't mean she couldn't have some fun.

“I can't figure out whether you're like the bully in first grade who picks on the other little girls because he thinks they're cute, or whether you're truly just a jackass.”

She was amused that he seemed surprised.

“Why are you constantly calling me a jackass?”

“You're sarcastic, mean, rude, co-dependent, self-centered, a little manipulative...should I go on?”

“Please do...but after I make sure you know that you're obsessive-compulsive, emotional, violent, annoying, and a little boring.”

“Boring!” she scoffed. “You've known me all of a month and you know nothing of my personal life and what I do to have fun. And how am I annoying?”

“You're so frustratingly put-together,” he said. “It drives me crazy. I think if you woke up in the morning and your hair didn't lay in a straight line, you'd cut it all off.”

“I like organization in my life.”

“And that's what makes you obsessive-compulsive,” he said. “Life is not organized. We have absolutely no control over it. You have no capability of letting go and having a little fun.”

“Like I said, you know nothing of my life outside of this job and the time I spend working with you. Work is a time for professionalism and organization, and days off are a time for having fun.”

“Hmmm,” he said with a smile. “Let me count the days off you've taken in the past month for you. Oh wait...that's right, you haven't taken any.”

“I am dedicated to my job and to working for you. I hardly think that's a crime.”

“Booooooring,” he mocked.

“I'm dying to know what makes you the authority on fun.”

“I'm spontaneous,” he said proudly. “And that's something you know nothing about. In fact, I don't think you know the definition of the word.”

She shoved her hands in her coat pockets.

“I'm plenty spontaneous. A few nights ago, after I got home from babysitting you all day, I poured myself a glass of Chardonnay. Then, instead of catching up on my DVR shows like I normally do, I spontaneously called an old high school friend that I hadn't talked to in years and bitched about how much I hate my boss. After I got off the phone, I spontaneously poured myself a second glass and taped a picture of you to my bulletin board and threw darts at your face.”

“Wow, free spirit,” he said with a smile. “I totally stand corrected. That wasn't too sarcastic of me, was it?”

Adeline sighed. “I am spontaneous, damn it. Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean I'm not.”

He suddenly stopped on the sidewalk and turned to her.

“Okay princess,” he said. “You want to prove you're spontaneous? Do something right now that I would never expect you to do.”

“Something you would never expect me to do?”

“Never in a million years,” he said. “Leave me speechless.”

She smiled at him, and suddenly grabbed the collar of his coat, pulled him toward her, and before either of them could take a last breath, their lips were against each other in a deep kiss.

She reached her hand around his neck and pulled him closer to her, and in response he grabbed her waist and pulled it towards him.

When she pulled away from him a few seconds later, she looked up at him with a grin.

“Is that spontaneous enough for you?”

His eyes were wide with shock.

“Wow,” he said.

“Well,” she said, “I guess I win that one.”

She put her hands back in her pockets and walked away, but he hung back, still in shock.

“Wait,” he called after her. “What the hell was that, Adeline? You're going to call me all those things and tell me you hate me, then kiss me and walk away from me with no explanation?”

She turned, but continued to walk backwards away from him.

“My apartment is less than a block away,” she yelled. “I'm going home. I'll see you in the morning. I'm sure you'll figure it out by then.”

He watched her smile and push away a strand of hair that the wind had blown in her face, then turn the corner of the street and disappear from him.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed to himself, watching his breath in the air. He was getting ready to turn and walk back to the club so he could go home. Then he realized it.

“Damn it,” he said. “She was my ride.”

Chapter 9 – Famous Last Words

“Small mocha please,” Adeline said to the barista as she pulled out her card. “Light on the whip – and if you could add just a dash of cinnamon, it would be fantastic.”

The barista nodded and walked away to make the coffee as Adeline sat her card down on the counter. She sighed, knowing this mid-day treat would keep her up until one or two in the morning and she would be dog-tired at five-thirty when she woke up – but she needed the extreme pick-me-up.

It wasn't as if she had slept a lot lately anyway. It wasn't just her late-night escapades from the night before, although she had felt the full, painful effects of it that morning. She was far too confused by her relationship with Lance – if you could call it a relationship. She wasn't dating the guy, or even friends with him, but even she had to admit that it had moved beyond a work relationship.

Why did she kiss him last night? He had challenged her, that was why. And when he challenged her, she had a tendency to lose her head and do stupid things. She always paid for it in the end, usually the next day. She wanted to keep on believing that she had no feelings for the guy, but when she lost her head like that it was difficult to go on trying to convince herself.

“Put that away.”

She heard the voice behind her and it startled her out of her daze. She quickly turned around and saw, of all things, those green eyes staring back at her, along with an extra set of dark brown eyes.

“Oh, hi,” she said to Lance, glancing briefly from him to the brown eyes and back to him. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I had a lunch date, remember?” he said. “Put that card away. It's my turn to pay.”

“It's no problem, I got it,” she said, placing her hand on top of the card. “I totally forgot about that. So that means you must be Joey, right?”

He smiled at her. “That'd be me.”

“I'm Adeline,” she said, holding her hand out to him.

“Lance's new assistant, I know,” he said. “He's told me about you. A few times, actually.”

Joey smiled as if he was the only one in the room who knew a secret, and she felt herself blush at the knowledge that Lance had talked about her.

“I'm sorry about the golf game, by the way,” Joey said. “Lance told me that you had to end up playing. Sorry if I put you out.”

“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head. “It's totally fine. I'm told I didn't suck too bad and at least I didn't smack myself with a club. So it's...totally fine.”

“I'm paying,” Lance said. “You came close a couple of times.”

Adeline sighed. “You know what, Bass? That first time was a fluke, and the second time was your fault because you distracted me. And you're not paying.”

“I seem to have that effect on you. And I am paying.”

“No you're not. And what is that supposed to mean?” she asked.

He smiled. “Just that you were collected before I walked in, and now that you know I'm here you look like you have your head in the clouds.”

“You startled me,” she said, nearly gritting her teeth. “When someone comes up behind you in New York City making demands, that tends to happen.”

“Muggers typically ask you to give them your money, not put it away,” he said. “So put it away.”

“I won't,” she said.

He reached toward the counter for her card, but she was prepared and slid it out of his way just before he got to it. The action had caused him to move closer to her, closer than her normal comfort zone and she felt those familiar feelings again.

He looked her in the eyes and smiled.

“You're frustratingly stubborn,” he said.

“So are you,” she replied with a smile. “What is taking that barista so long? I'm ready to pay here.”

“You guys feel that?” Joey said. “That's what it physically feels like when someone says you could cut the tension with a knife.”

They went on looking at each other, ignoring Joey entirely.

“Let me pay,” he said.

“Why should I?” she asked.

“Because I have a favor to ask you. I want you to come to my Halloween party this Sunday,” he said. “Full costume, free drinks, good company – you'll hate it.”

She scrunched up her nose.“You're right. I will hate it.”

“Girl, you'd better let him pay,” Joey said. “I've seen him beat down Timberlake for refusing to let him pay – blood splattering, teeth pulling...it isn't pretty.”

Adeline looked into his eyes for a few more moments before relenting, grabbing her card off the counter slowly and breaking eye contact. She would pay for this exact moment tomorrow anyway.

The barista finally came back and started putting the purchase into the register, and he smiled and pulled out his wallet.

“I'll see you Sunday,” he said to her, watching her finish putting her card into her bag and grab her cup off the counter.

“Yes, I'll see you Sunday,” she said to him. She turned to Joey. “It was nice meeting you, Joey.”

“You too, Adeline,” he said.

Both men watched her walk away and through the door.

“Holy hell,” Joey said.

“Put her coffee on my bill,” Lance said, smiling at the girl behind the register.

“What was that?” Joey asked his friend.

“What was what?”

“Oh, God,” Joey said. “Don't even.”

“She's bought my coffee a million times. I owed her, that's all.”

“I'm not talking about the coffee. I'm talking about the volcano of tension that nearly exploded and blew up this entire store.”

Lance gave the barista his order for his coffee and Joey's usual. When she walked away, he looked at Joey.

“Her and I don't always get along so well.”

“Yeah, um...I got a different impression.”

“I just like pushing her buttons,” he said with a smile. “It's so easy to do and she gets all worked up. It's fun.”

“Maybe too much. I thought I was going to have to clear the store while you two worked out your frustrations naked on top of the counter.”

Lance laughed. “No, Joey. She'd never even dream of it. She hates me so much that she wouldn't give me the time of day if she wasn't on my payroll.”

“Again, I got a different impression.”

Lance sighed. “Granted, she's cute--”

“Try again.”

“Okay, granted she's hot,” he said. “And yeah, if she came onto me I would not turn her down. But she is very set in how she feels about me.”

“I don't think she is, dude. I saw that look in her eyes. Plain as day, she wants to hate you but there's no way she does.”

“She has a funny way of showing it,” Lance said. The barista had come back with their coffee and took his card and cashed out the order.

“Well, she's married, right?” Joey said as they walked to a table and sat down. “Maybe it's a front. Maybe she really does want to hate you but she doesn't. She's afraid of what could happen, so she pretends.”

“Her first day on the job she threw a pen at my head and cut me. If she's pretending, she deserves an Academy Award.”

“In her defense, sometimes I want to throw things at your head, too,” Joey said.

“Her husband sounds like a real tool anyway.”

“Here we go,” Joey said, taking a drink of his coffee.

“What?”

“I don't know who's trying to pretend more – you or her. She's overcompensating on hating you, but you're clearly jealous that she's married. Admit it.”

“Jealous is a stretch,” Lance replied. “All I said was that the guy sounds like a tool. I think he's cheating on her. And who leaves their rich husband all the way across the country to take a measly assistant job unless they're looking for a way out of it? I'd sleep with her, but I enjoy being single too much to put up with her as a girlfriend.”

Joey laughed harshly.

“Enjoy. Who gets dumped by their fiancee one month before their wedding then says they enjoy being single?”

Lance's expression changed.

“Watch it, Joe,” he said.

“Hey, sorry for opening an old wound, but you just proved my point for me. You enjoy being single as much as she enjoys pretending to hate you. You both want to believe it's true because it makes you feel better.”

“I don't need anything to make me feel better. I feel just fine.”

Joey's expression softened.

“Good thing she's doing all the acting, 'cause you suck at it,” he said.

Lance said nothing; instead, he took his coffee in his hand and looked out the window.

“Quit trying, Lance,” Joey said. “It's okay to admit that it still hurts.”

“It doesn't hurt, Joe. Like I said, I feel just fine.”

“You really do have yourself convinced. I know better because I'm the only one at this table with any sense.”

“That's laughable,” Lance said with a chuckle. “Joey Fatone, have sense? Maybe pigs can fly, too.”

“See, you put up this facade trying to be some big, tough bitch and you forget that I've known you for years. I spent most of my time on a tour bus with you. You hate being this mean. You're the tool here.”

Lance leaned back in his chair and sighed. Even he had to admit that was a mean thing to say to his best friend.

“Sorry, Joe,” he said.

“Hey, s'okay,” Joey said, smiling. “You didn't hurt my feelings. We give each other a hard time; that's what friends do.”

“I guess you're right that it still hurts, a little. It only hurts when I think about it.”

“Mackenzie did a shitty thing,” Joey said. “Who takes off to film a movie in Germany a month before they're supposed to get married? But I see things, and I see that there's something between you and Adeline.”

“There's really not.”

“Lance, you hired your stripper friend to spend the night with you and pretend to be your one-night stand in an elaborate scheme to make your personal assistant jealous. That may be lots of things – outlandish comes to mind – but it's definitely not nothing.”

“That was payback, not jealousy,” Lance corrected. “She ditched me. Of course, at the time I didn't know why. I swear, I like pushing her buttons. That's it.”

“Oh, you want to push her buttons alright.”

Lance laughed. “You're a pig. But given the opportunity...”

“See? You wanna do a little boom chicka wow wow with her.”

“Wow, Joe. Too much. Never say that again.”

“No more boom chicka wow wow?” Joey said, faking a hurt expression.

“No, Joey, no more.”

“Not even at the Halloween party?” Joey raised his eyebrows.

“Especially not at the Halloween party,” Lance said, laughing.

“Are you afraid I'll embarrass you in front of sweet Adeline?”

“I'm afraid you'll scare off all my female guests.”

“It doesn't matter. You only have eyes for Adeline.”

“I swore we dropped that about ten seconds ago,” Lance said, shaking his head.

“I can't believe you invited her,” Joey said.

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because she's married,” Joey said. “Duh.”

Lance paused. “As usual Joey, I'm not following your derailed train of thought.”

“You, costumes, alcohol, and hot women don't mix well. Last Halloween you ended up sleeping with that drunk friend of Jamie-Lynn's that was wearing that sexy little genie number. So one of two things is going to happen – either Adeline will end up hating that drunk girl, or she'll end up being that drunk girl. And again, she's married.”

“She's married to a tool.”

“Tool or not, she needs to stay out of your tool box. Otherwise, someone will get hurt.”

“Joey, it's a Halloween party,” Lance said. “Not an orgy.”

“Well damn, I must have misread my invitation,” Joey said, snapping his fingers. “For reals, though – you need to be careful. She's got a husband. And if the guy really is a tool, who knows what he'd do to you if, you know...boom chicka wow wow.”

“Joey...”

“Sorry,” he responded. “I had to get it out of my system.”

Lance sighed. “She'll come to the party, I'll give her a hard time and she'll get upset – she might drink too much, she'll threaten me or tell me how much she hates me, and I'll send her drunk ass home in a cab. What's the worst that could happen?”

Joey, upon hearing the stereotypical famous last words, looked him in the eyes and made an explosion sound while motioning it with his hands, telling Lance all he could say about that. He knew this would eventually implode on his friend if he didn't heed his advice. He just hoped it didn't end too badly.

Chapter 10 – Wide Awake

“I literally have the most rotten luck in the world,” Adeline said to her reflection in her car's rearview mirror.

She had agreed to come to Lance's party, and she had actually been a little excited about it – until tonight.

He hadn't given her much notice about the party and with her schedule she couldn't fit costume shopping in, so she had no choice but to order one online that Friday and have it sent overnight. It had cost her a small fortune, but she loved the costume and knew she would look great in it.

When the box came and she opened it, she was shocked. Her amazing and modest nurse costume had morphed into something she was convinced only a hooker would wear.

The first thing she had done was to try it on and look in the mirror, thinking maybe it wouldn't be so bad. The second thing she had done was call the company, hoping that they could work miracles and exchange it for something less showy in time for the party. The third thing she had done was cry a little inside when she realized that nothing could be done.

When she finished, she gave herself a pep talk, went out and bought a pair of knee-high stockings and white boots, and coined her new motto for the night.

“Embrace the slutty nurse deep down inside of you, Addy,” she told her reflection.

She expected the eyes staring back at her to show confidence, but instead they looked defeated.

“Hey,” she said to her deflated inner ego. “At least you'll make an impression.”

She stepped out of her car and walked up to the building pulling her skirt down the whole way, and all she could think was how glad she was that there would be alcohol.

She felt a little safer in the elevator, until it stopped on the second floor to let someone on – and she was less than shocked when the same businessman from a few weeks ago stepped on, clad in workout clothes instead of his usual business suit.

“Of course,” she groaned out loud. Not surprisingly, he looked over at her, wide-eyed.

“Hi,” she said with a smile. “You can stare. It's okay.”

He didn't say a word as the elevator stopped and opened its doors to the third floor.

“Hope you enjoyed the show,” she said to him as she stepped off. “Have a happy Halloween.”

She smiled to herself as she walked down the hallway to Lance's apartment. Her inner ego was feeling a bit more confident as she knocked on his door.

“He...”

Lance's voice trailed as he opened the door to the full view of Adeline.

“Addy. Wow. Hi.”

“Hi,” she said, not being able to help herself from smiling. She watched his eyes trail from her face down.

“You look...um...”

“Lance,” she said, snapping her fingers in front of him, then pointing at her eyes. “My eyes are up here.”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, they are.”

“Can I come in, or do I have to stand out here in the hallway?”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking off his residual shock and stepping out of her way. “Sorry, come in.”

She stepped into his entryway and looked around. He had a relatively small gathering of people, but his apartment was still packed to its full capacity. Suddenly she felt self-conscious, but all it took was one more look at him for that to go away.

“You look...amazing,” he said to her.

“I look like a whore,” she said. “I ordered something a little more modest, but they made a mistake. Apparently the gods of the universe thought I would look better in this. I have the worst luck in the world.”

“Then I must have the best luck in the world,” he said with a smile, his eyes fixated on her.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“I said that out loud,” he said. “I'm sorry. I'm an idiot.”

“At least you're not the only one in the room,” she said to him, feeling several pairs of eyes from the room on various parts of her body. “I need a drink.”

“Suddenly, I do too,” he said. “Come with me, they're over here.”

He walked through the living room full of people, watching his guests' reactions as they saw her. He found himself getting upset at the number of heads that turned to look at her. About halfway through the living room he reached back and grabbed her hand in his.

The action surprised her and made her even more self-conscious. It wasn't like when he had grabbed her hand to lead her to the dance floor a couple nights ago. The people in the room weren't sizing up her and her immodesty; they were sizing both of them up.

Adeline wondered to herself if Lance noticed that they were now the center of attention. She wondered if he cared; he didn't seem to care much about the opinions of others any other time. It should have made her feel better that he had taken some of the attention off her outfit, but now she wondered what these people thought of them.

He maneuvered them through the people and into the kitchen, where there was no one to watch them.

“What's up with the costume?” he said as he poured both of them a drink.

“I didn't have much warning about the party. I never could have made it to a costume shop so I had to order online, and...well, yeah.”

“What were you going for?” he asked.

“Not this,” she said. “Something a little more--”

She stuttered, searching for the right word.

“Rigid?” he asked. “Uptight? Boring?”

She kicked him in the leg as he handed her a glass, and he chuckled.

“I was thinking understated.” She looked over his costume. He was wearing shiny dress shoes with pressed black dress pants, held up by black suspenders over a crisp white shirt, all topped off with a fedora, slightly tipped to one side. “What about you? What are you supposed to be then – Al Capone?”

“This is Joey's convoluted idea,” he said. “I made the mistake of saying yes when he asked if we could coordinate costumes this year, for the fun of it. We're supposed to be gangsters or something. I had a suit jacket but it's about a million degrees in here, so I ditched it. And the hat...”

“I like it,” she said. “It's classic – and kind of sexy.”

He lifted his eyebrows, but as he was about to respond to her he felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder.

“Adeline!” Joey said. Like Lance said, he was dressed in the same way, with the addition of the black suit jacket and a smirk. “You made it. Wow. It's good to see you. Very good.”

“Hey Joey,” she said, smiling.

“Are you hiding her, Lance?” Joey turned to Lance. “You two are back here, in the kitchen, all cozy, together...alone.”

“Joey...”

“Lance was showing me to the drinks, here,” Adeline said. “And we got to chatting about my costume disaster.”

“Disaster?” Joey looked at Lance with a smile, then looked to Adeline. “What disaster? I think you look great!”

Lance could tell that Joey was putting on a show for him, spurred on by their conversation at the coffee shop.

“Well, thank you Joey.” Adeline's face perked up with added confidence. “It was supposed to be more understated than this, but this is what I ended up with. I don't usually wear things like this.”

“You look sexy,” Joey said to her. “One hot babe.”

Lance caught Joey looking briefly over at him with a smug look.

Adeline felt herself blushing. “Joey, we hardly know each other – but flirt harder, please.”

“Joey, shouldn't you go find your wife?” Lance asked, pushing Joey's arm away slightly. “You know, Kelly? Ring a bell?”

“Vaguely,” Joey said, his eyes fixated on Adeline.

“You know, Fatone, the woman you have two daughters with...”

Lance looked from Adeline to Joey, and when he continued staring without saying anything, Lance grabbed his arm and pinched.

“Ow,” Joey yelped, grabbing his arm. “Fine, I'm going, I'm going. But Adeline, I have a piece of advice for you – don't get too drunk.”

“Oh Joey,” she said with a smile. “I don't just plan to get drunk – I plan to get totally sloshed. It's been one of those weeks.”

Joey turned to Lance and smiled. “You've found your drunk girl.”

“Get outta here,” Lance responded, pushing him by the shoulder most of the way out of the kitchen.

After a few minutes, Adeline realized that Joanna and Jamie-Lynn were at the party, so she disappeared into the crowd to find them, in one of the corners of Lance's living room.

And she stayed there, two hours, while he watched. His guests tried to come over and start conversation with him, but they usually left after they noticed he was too distracted. After his wife had left the party early, Joey eventually found himself at Lance's side again.

“Have you memorized every curve of her body yet?”

His attention was broken quickly as he looked over at Joey.

“What?”

“I've been standing here about five minutes, but you've been so busy watching Addy you haven't noticed me once,” Joey said. “I'm assuming you're trying to commit every curve, cranny and birth mark on her body to memory so I don't take offense at it.”

“Sorry, Joe. I'm keeping an eye on him.” Lance pointed at the man next to Joanna, her fiance Nick. “His eyes have barely left her body all night, and he keeps touching her.”

“I've noticed that. I've also noticed he keeps smiling at her, and talking to her too. What a cad!” Joey said sarcastically. “Wow, Lance, seriously?”

“What? Look at how she's dressed.”

“I saw. Oh trust me, I saw. I also see that Joanna isn't dressed much differently, and that Nick isn't paying any more attention to Addy than he is Joanna and Jamie-Lynn. They're having a conversation, which is what most people do at a party – most people except you, that is. You stare at corners.”

“I'm looking out for her,” Lance responded. “She's not used to this kind of attention.”

Joey looked at his friend, who was once again staring in the corner.

“Pathetic,” he said with a shake of his head.

Almost an hour later, Joey had finally managed to distract Lance enough to start up a conversation with someone else when the three girls came rushing over to them.

“Lance,” Adeline said as she leaned forward on his arm, unsteady on her feet.

He waited for her to finish her sentence, but she never did.

“She's drunk, isn't she?” Joey asked Joanna.

“Maybe a little,” Joanna said.

“Maybe a little,” Adeline said to Lance, holding her fingers a few centimeters apart, drawing out every word. He could smell the strong alcohol wafting off her clothes.

“God, Joanna, she's flammable,” he said. “What's she been drinking?”

Joanna held up both arms in an exaggerated shrug. “A little of this, a little of that.”

“Joanna might be a little too drunk herself to have noticed,” Jamie-Lynn said.

“Joey!” Adeline stumbled over and flung her arm over Joey's shoulders, giving him a small kiss on the cheek.

“Whew, Addy!” Joey said, smelling the alcohol. “Good thing it's not the Fourth of July. Sparklers don't light as easy as you would. How many have you had?”

“A couple,” she responded.

“Cans of gasoline, maybe,” Joey said. He took the half-full drink glass she had and handed it over to Lance. “Maybe it's time to get you home and in bed. Let's you and me go grab a cab, shall we?”

“No!” Adeline cried. “Joanna and Jamie and me, we're going to sing k-karaoke.”

“Karaoke!” Joanna yelled, and grabbed Adeline by the arm. The two of them ran off, and Jamie-Lynn stepped up to Lance and Joey calmly.

“You're really going to let them do this?” Joey asked her.

“I have to get my kicks somehow,” she said with a smile, and walked off to the other two girls.

Lance and Joey watched as Joanna and Adeline clambered their way onto a table against one wall in the room with the help of Jamie-Lynn, who stayed on the floor.

“Since when do I have karaoke at my parties?” Lance asked Joey.

The man shrugged and both looked back over at the girls. Jamie-Lynn had found a CD and put it in the stereo, pushing a couple buttons to get to the song she wanted.

When they heard the first notes of “I Kissed a Girl” come out full blast, both of them looked at each other.

“Oh no,” Lance said, shaking his head.

They watched in semi-horror as the two women sang every word of the song, sans microphones, while dancing back-to-back on top of the table. The attention of every male in the room was hooked as they moved in ways that Lance had only typically seen from exotic dancers. As drunk as they were, both girls only stumbled a couple of times, and Jamie-Lynn was standing at the bottom of the table waiting to catch them, quickly going back to laughing and having a good time when they were balanced again.

“What a train wreck,” Lance said to Joey as he watched the sight in front of him.

“I can't look away,” Joey said. “Hey, let's get them to do 'Genie in a Bottle', yeah?”

“Joey!”

“Sorry. Had to try.”

As the two sang about soft skin and red lips, Lance noticed Adeline was looking straight at him with a seductive look in her eyes. He knew she was inebriated and had no idea what she was doing. He knew she would regret this in the morning when she found out. He wished he could control the stares of the other men in the room.

But he was secretly enjoying watching it himself.

As the song ended, Joey and Lance walked over to the table. Both girls were stumbling more now than ever.

“Let's do some Gaga next!” Adeline stuttered to Joanna, who Joey was helping off the table.

“Oh no.” Lance grabbed Adeline's arm and gently started pulling her down off the table. “No Gaga tonight.”

“I want it bad, your bad romance,” Adeline sang as Lance held her up.

“She's basted like a Thanksgiving turkey,” Joey said.

“Basted? She's marinated. I think it's time to call this party over.”

“I'll get everybody out of here,” Joey said, handing over Joanna's arm to Jamie-Lynn.

“I'll find Nick and get Joanna home,” she said as Joey walked off. “Lance, this was a great party.”

“Yeah, remind me in the morning when I'm replaying this train wreck,” he said.

Adeline, threatening to collapse to the ground, was clinging to his neck tightly. As everyone started to clear out, Lance tried to pull her over to the couch, but she was too heavy and uncooperative. He held her up in place and five minutes later when most of the guests were gone, Joey walked over.

“Want me to help you get her home?”

“She's dead weight,” he said. “Her apartment is a fourth floor. There's no way we're getting her into a cab and up to her apartment, even with the two of us.”

“True,” Joey said. “She's had enough alcohol to kill two frat houses by now. Let's get her to the couch and call it a night.”

They each grabbed an arm and threw it over their shoulder and carried her over to the couch. She collapsed in a heap, throwing her head back with a drunk groan.

“I'm so dizzy,” she drawled out.

“That will be one fun hangover tomorrow,” Joey said to Lance. “It's late, I'm out. Kelly will have a good laugh at what she missed.”

He walked Joey to the door to see him out, and turned back to look at Adeline after he closed the door. He expected to see her passed out, but to his surprise, she was wide awake.

“Lance, come s-s-sit with me,” she said, stumbling over her words. He looked at her and all he could do was shake his head and chuckle.

He grabbed a blanket and extra pillow out of one of the hall closets before he walked back into the living room and to the couch. He threw the pillow against the arm next to her, and the blanket on top of it.

“I made a fool out of myself tonight, didn't I?” she asked as he sat next to her.

“A little,” he said.

“I won't remember any of it in the morning, will I?”

He smiled. “Probably not. That's the blessing and the curse of alcohol.”

She groaned. “I'm never drinking again.”

“Says every person, until they sober up. You should probably lay down and sleep it off, Addy. I'd tell you you'll feel better in the morning, but – well, you won't.”

“Can I ask you a question, Lance?”

He looked at her, and she looked him directly in the eyes.

“This may just be drunk r-ramblings,” she said, still stuttering. “I don't know if it will even make any sense. Do you think there's a difference between bad decisions and bad decisions you make while you're drunk?”

“You're right,” he said with a smile. “That is drunk ramblings, and it doesn't make any sense.”

“You know that people say when you're drunk, you have no inhibitions?”

He nodded, surprised she could speak so coherently, and almost philosophically.

“Do you think it's possible that the bad decisions you make while you're drunk are actually good decisions that you're too scared to make when you're sober?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, sometimes. You can't really be afraid when you're drunk.”

She looked over at him.

“Why?” he asked. “What decision did you have to make, Addy?”

She grabbed him by the suspenders and pulled him all the way down to her. His lips fell against hers and she pulled him in more until they were locked against each other's lips. She reached behind him and grasped gently onto his hair with one hand, kissing him longer and more passionately than he remembered a few nights ago.

“I kissed a boy and I liked it,” she whispered after she released his lips. “I hope my husband don't mind it.”

Chapter 11 – Aftermath

She looked him in the eyes. Her hand rested on the back of his neck and she could feel the sweat that had accumulated there.

He lowered his head to kiss her, and as they were lips-to-lips, she could feel his heavy breathing and his heart beat against her bare chest.

“I think I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I think I might love you, too,” she whispered back, terrified that she would wake up in the morning and realize she meant it.

She thought she was waking up. She couldn't be sure, because her eyes weren't open yet. She couldn't tell whether she was having a dream or recalling last night – but the feeling of warm, bare skin gave her an indication.

She could feel him breathing again, both the rise and fall of his chest against her back and his warm breath on her neck. His face was buried in her neck and he had both arms wrapped around her; apparently, he had held her all night while they slept.

She knew what happened without even having to be told. She could feel the fabric of the blanket wrapped around them against her bare breasts. He had his legs tangled between hers, and the skin of his thigh melted into hers.

She felt him stir, and his arm shifted in a way that he squeezed her body closer to his.

She didn't want to move. She could lay this way with him forever and be content. And it scared her to death.

She laid there for what felt like years before his arm moved and he rolled over onto his back. She reluctantly rolled over, making sure she pulled the blanket with her.

“Lance...”

“I know, Adeline. I know.”

They were silent for a few moments, her eyes closed, trying to recapture those savory feelings from just a few minutes before. She turned her head on the pillow to look over at him, and saw him staring up at the ceiling.

“I'll go make coffee,” he said quietly.

She silently watched him sit up in bed, reaching down next to him on the floor to grab his boxers and a pair of jeans. The metal attachments of his belt clanked together as he took the extra time to buckle it before he stood up and walked out of the room, avoiding eye contact with her.

When he left, she tightly closed her eyes, finally feeling the gravity of reality hit her.

Last night, she had felt like she had emerged from being in a cave after sixteen years. Instead of everything being cast in darkness, everything had brightened up. She let loose, had fun, and played a role she wasn't used to – herself, from so long ago. The fun her – not the uptight one he always talked about.

He was wrong; she did remember most of what happened, including the table dance. She wouldn't tell him because he wouldn't believe her, but that was who she had always wanted to be. That was who her anxiety prevented her from being because she was always concerned about something. That was who she had been before her parents' accident; minus the alcohol and table dancing of course, but fun-loving and carefree.

She mourned the death of carefree Adeline and the return to the Adeline who thought that chaos was always a bad thing.

She slipped on her costume from last night, since she had no other clothes, avoiding putting on the white stockings and the hat that went with it. As she was putting on her boots, he came into the room holding his coffee mug and leaned against the door frame.

She stopped tying her boot laces to lift her head slightly towards him.

“What happened – shouldn't have happened,” he said. “It was stupid and we were drunk. But we didn't do anything wrong.”

“Maybe you didn't,” she said, yanking on the last shoe lace. “I'm married. I did something very wrong.”

“He's cheating on you, too.”

“You don't know that!”

She hadn't meant to raise her voice at him.

“You don't know that,” she said, lowering her voice. “And this is about more than him. You're my boss. I'm supposed to be a professional.”

“And whose rules did we break, Addy?”

“Mine! Mine, Lance. My rules.”

“We're adults,” he said. “We didn't rob a bank; we had sex. I feel bad that it happened under the circumstances that it did, but I don't regret that it happened at all. I don't feel bad about that, and you shouldn't either.”

“Maybe that makes you feel better,” she said. “That's great for you. But it doesn't help me. I have to go.”

She stormed to the living room to grab her coat and keys, and he followed quickly after her. As she was about to pass the entryway to the door, he grabbed her arm.

“I meant what I said last night,” he said. “I love you, Adeline.”

As she stared in his eyes, she remembered everything she felt last night for him. He looked so serious, like he was in so much pain. She never wanted to go back to her “real” life.

“I love you, too,” she said. “And that's what scares me so much.”

She walked away from him, gently removing her arm from his grasp, and walked out of the door before he could stop her.

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“Adeline James...”

“I know,” Adeline said with an exaggerated groan. “You don't have to tell me Steph. You're going to yell at me, because either way I'm stupid.”

“You walked out on him?”

“I had to.”

“But why?”

After fighting tears in her eyes the whole drive home, the only thing she could think to do when she stepped in her doorway was call Stephanie.

“I wish I could tell you,” she said. “But I don't know.”

“He told you he loves you. Twice! Lance never says anything remotely positive twice in one night, much less 'I love you'!”

She silently chuckled, which almost brought on more tears.

“You know that I love you,” she said. “I would never say anything to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. And after the discussion we had yesterday, it hurts me to know that I could hurt you by bringing this up...but how can you do this after what you saw yesterday morning?”

“Stephanie, I don't want to go through this again...”

“No,” Stephanie said forcefully. “No, Addy, I won't let you pretend that you didn't see it. What did you find yesterday morning?”

She sighed.

“Pictures.”

“Pictures of what?”

“Marc,” Adeline said reluctantly.

“Doing what?” Stephanie said. “What was Marc doing, AJ?”

Adeline hadn't heard that name, what Stephanie had called her when they were young girls, in over a decade. She took a breath, preparing herself for what she was about to say.

“Kissing another woman,” she said, letting the tears spill from her eyes.

Stephanie paused before she continued, giving Adeline time to take a couple of shaky breaths.

“He was kissing another woman,” she said softly. “Your husband. The man you've put every last bit of trust you have in – betraying you. You're worrying yourself to tears about breaking your vows with a man you love, who clearly loves you – and who knows how long he's been doing this. Those vows mean less to him than they do to you.”

“That doesn't make it any less wrong,” Adeline said.

“Maybe not,” Stephanie said. “But I think in a race to the finish of the worst moral values, there's obviously someone who has a head start here.”

Thinking about it all day was the reason she had started drinking at the party. When she had seen the pictures on the internet, she had nearly had a panic attack but had narrowly managed to escape it. She didn't tell Lance because she didn't feel like hearing his obvious opinion on the subject.

“Two wrongs don't make a right, Steph.”

“Hello, operator, my name is Adeline, and I've been emotionally disconnected,” Stephanie said. “Wake up and be human for once. You're allowed an emotionally distraught mistake every now and then.”

“How am I going to tell Marc?” Adeline said.

“Uh...you're not?”

“I have to tell him, Steph. I can't lie to him.”

“Yeah, because he's so good at telling you the truth,” Stephanie said. “Look, as far as I'm concerned, if you really intend to keep this as a one-time thing, a mistake – you don't have to tell him anything. He's obviously doing things and not telling you. If you intend to keep this going – which I'm all for, by the way – then I think you know what the first thing you need to do is.”

“Are you going to use the 'D' word?”

“It was invented for a reason. Some couples aren't meant to be together, honey. It's like...this is a big world, you know? And you're supposed to find your other half, but that's not easy. Wires cross sometimes. Mistakes are bound to be made – it's called the grand design for a reason. It's freaking huge.”

Adeline sighed.

“This is such a disaster, Steph.”

“Tornadoes are disasters. The earthquake in Haiti was a disaster. Hurricane Katrina was a disaster. You and Lance are not a disaster – that's cosmic.”

Adeline rolled her eyes.

“You're a lot of help, you know that?”

“I'm not supposed to help,” Stephanie responded. “Your idea of me being helpful would be me telling you that you did something horrible and it was a shitty idea. It was my idea from the beginning; it couldn't be shitty. I'm a genius.”

“A casual observer would say you just have no moral center.”

“Of course I do. Idiots have no moral center; look at politicians.”

Adeline laughed so suddenly she almost dripped the coffee she was drinking all over her shirt.

“So then what do I do?” she said after she had regained her composure.

“Forget your brain,” Stephanie said. “Follow your heart, Addy. Chances are Marc has been cheating a long time. He's not going to stop because you say so; I'd venture to say that no matter what you do with Lance, it's probably over anyway.”

Adeline felt something click inside her head. Before Marc's first movie took off, he had been well-known as a womanizer among any friends she had, with multiple girls telling her of times he had made moves on them. It had never gone any farther than flirting, at least not that she knew of. After they had gotten engaged, the flirting seemed to stop. But as soon as he got his break, it seemed like he was gone more than he was home.

The rumors had been milling around ever since. She had always boiled it down to the media doing what it was known for doing – creating a story where there was little or no truth, but good potential. But it had been going on for so long, with so many rumors and now evidence – how could she know now? How could she keep believing that there was nothing going on?

“Addy? You still there?”

“Yeah,” she responded. “Sorry, I spaced out.”

“Hmm...thinking about anything interesting?” Stephanie said suggestively.

“Thinking about finishing my coffee. Then thinking about taking a shower.”

“Yeah?”

“Then I'm thinking about getting dressed, maybe putting on makeup, getting in my car...” She sighed. “And going to him.”

“Oh,” Stephanie said, her excitement growing. “And then what?”

“Then...whatever happens, happens.”

“That's my girl!” Stephanie exclaimed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adeline walked down the hallway of the first level of his apartment building. After she had ended the phone call with Stephanie, she had taken a shower so hot that her skin had turned bright pink. She stood at her closet for several minutes dripping wet, wondering what was appropriate to wear to this type of meeting.

She didn't know what would happen when she got there. She didn't even know if she knew what she wanted to happen, or if he would talk to her when she found him. It seemed like, lately, fear made her run out of any situation she didn't want to face. Marc had been guilty of pushing her away from him, but she didn't realize until today that she was guilty, too – of pushing everyone away.

She tried to keep her footsteps coming down the cement stairs of the basement light, so she wouldn't alert him that she was there. She barely turned the corner of the door frame to the laundry room when she saw him standing at the machines, throwing wet clothes into the dryer.

She had no sooner taken a single step into the doorway when he turned his head, making her jump back a step.

“Hey,” she said.

He put one last item in the dryer and shut the door.

“Hey.”

“So, I went to your apartment first but I couldn't find you. Your neighbor was leaving and told me you were down here,” she said.

He turned a dial on the dryer and pushed a button to start it.

“Yeah.”

“So you're doing laundry,” she said. “I didn't know you did laundry.”

“Yeah,” he said, starting to throw clothes into the washer drum. “I can actually take care of myself.”

“I didn't mean anything by that, Lance,” she said.

“Are we going to go back to this?” he asked. “The way it was before – you insult me, I insult you back, neither one of us means it but it's more comfortable than admitting that there's something here?”

She nodded. “You're right – there's something here. That's why I came to talk to you.”

“No,” he said forcefully. “I have something to say first. You remember last night, when you were asking me if those bad decisions you make when you're drunk are good decisions you're too scared to make when you're sober? Did it ever occur to you that once, in your quest to keep your life in perfect order, you made the perfect decision? When's the last time you had fun like that? When's the last time you danced, even if it was drunk on a table? When's the last time you woke up next to someone that actually cared for you the way you care for them?”

“A long time.” She walked toward him. “That's why this is so scary. I should feel this way about my husband. My husband should feel this way about me. And apparently, neither of us do. After spending the past five years with a man I thought I knew and thought I loved, you walk into my life. Now all of a sudden, I've known you for about a month and you've made me question my entire marriage. Do you know how terrifying that is?”

“I guess I don't,” he said. “All I know is that I haven't met anyone I cared for so much since Mackenzie left. I guess it's terrifying and confusing as hell, but I'm not letting that stop me.”

“The difference is, Mackenzie left,” she said. “She's not around anymore. You're not married to her. It's not wrong for you to feel that way for someone else.”

When he stayed silent, she grabbed his hand, first twisting her fingers between his, then pulling him in towards her.

“I can't pretend I don't feel the way I feel for you,” he said after a few moments.

“I'm not asking you to,” she said. “At least not in private. We can't be seen in public together as anything but client and employee.”

“I know,” he said.

“Sometimes they photograph me, too,” she said. “I'm at an event thinking I'm being conspicuous and the next day I find myself on TMZ. And our friends – Joanna, Jamie-Lynn, even Joey – they can't know either.”

“Who can know, Addy?” he asked.

“You and me. That's it. At least until I figure out what to do about the situation I've put myself in. Just the two of us.”

“And when it's the two of us?”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I think I ran out on you a little early this morning,” she said. “If I remember correctly, you still owe me a breakfast.”

“It's past noon,” he said. “I think it's a little late for breakfast.”

“I never said I meant now.”

Chapter 12 - Drowning

Three weeks later

“I don't want to go anywhere.”

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled, too busy kissing the back of her neck to speak.

“If you weren't insisting we leave the house today, I wouldn't move from this spot.”

She relaxed a little more into the pillow before she felt his hands move from her hips up her back and around to her stomach.

“Have you been paying attention?” she asked.

“No,” he said, grabbing her arm and turning her over to look at him. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her mouth in towards his. “Not to anything that's coming out of your mouth.”

Twenty minutes later, she had managed to pull herself out of bed half-clothed to go to the kitchen. She stood at his counter, stirring creamer into her coffee, and looked at him when he came into the kitchen in his lounge pants, carrying a clothing bag.

“Can you drop this suit by the dry cleaner before the end of the day? I'll need it after I get back from Mississippi.”

“Why is it that I'm getting naked for you and I still get stuck with your dry cleaning?”

“What a rip-off, right? You'd think I could at least pay you or something,” he said with a scoff.

She smiled and paused for a sip of coffee, but stopped after she had swallowed.

“Wait – you mean for the dry cleaning, right?”

“For the dry cleaning. Yeah, that sounds better.”

“You're a pig,” she said.

She turned away from him, but smiled when she felt arms wrap around her waist.

“Come to Mississippi with me,” he said softly, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“You know I can't.”

“Tell him I'm making you work. He'll believe it.”

“I know he will,” she said, “but I still can't.”

“Addy, it's Thanksgiving. I want you to meet my family.”

“And what are you going to tell them?” she said with a chuckle. “'Hi mom, hi dad. Happy Thanksgiving. This is my girlfriend. She's married, but it's no big deal; we're only sleeping together.'”

“Yeah, that's about what I was going to say – except I was going to word it a little differently...”

She sighed. “You know, usually in an affair it's the woman that always wants more from the man than they can give. Lance, this is not a joke. We talked about this.”

“We talked about public events and photographers, not parents and holidays. It's not like we'll be on display for everyone.”

“We might as well be,” she said.

He stepped away from her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This isn't about my parents or being seen together,” he said. “It's about him again.”

She said nothing. In three weeks, she had spent more nights at Lance's apartment than she had at her own, and at first she was sure she knew what she wanted. But with the holidays quickly approaching, old feelings were stirring up inside her – feelings she couldn't ignore.

“I always heard stories about the 'other woman',” he said. “You know, wondered what it was like to be on that side of things, that side of the relationship. You don't hear much about the 'other man' though, but I've been one for three weeks, and I can tell you, Ad – it sucks.”

She sighed and closed her eyes.

“You say we might as well be on display for everybody, but honestly – it feels the opposite for me. We're not like a normal couple. Our date nights are spent eating in and watching movies because we're hiding.”

“I didn't hear you complaining about that last week when we ordered Chinese and watched Paranormal Activity,” she said.

“How can you complain when you have a cute brunette jumping into your lap, grabbing your shirt like she's about to fall off a cliff?” he said with a smile.

“It was scary,” she said quietly, almost pouting. “Those footprints in the baby powder...fucking creepy.”

“You could barely sleep for two days, which left plenty of time for other things.”

“I swear, Lance, if I wake up one morning and there are baby powder footprints all over the place, I'll kill myself and come back to haunt you. And I won't play around with slamming doors and moving bed sheets while you're sleeping.”

She expected him to respond, but when he was quiet, she turned to look at him. She noticed the smile had disappeared.

“I'm a lucky guy,” he said. “You're an amazing person, Addy. I love spending time with you no matter what we're doing, but sometimes I wish I could take you out and show you off – show people that this time, I got something right.”

She exchanged a look with him, feeling guilty.

“He's my husband,” she said. “I've been gone two months. If I don't go back to LA and attempt to spend some time with him, it will start to look suspicious. If I'm going to eventually do this – end this with him – I want to do it right. I don't want to jump before I'm ready. I'm not ready to call the game yet.”

She reached out her hand and grabbed his, and pulled him to her until he wrapped both arms around her body.

“Until then,” she said, inches from his face, “I have to take a shower, and all this talk about ghosts has me freaked out again. I might need a protector.”

He slowly smiled.

“Damn you, Addy. How can I possibly say no?”

“You can't,” she said, smiling.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Chill out,” he said with a smile. “We're almost there.”

She sighed. He had told her the night before that he was taking her somewhere, but when she pressed him for details he refused to tell her. That morning after they'd eaten breakfast, he had urged her into the car, but he wouldn't pull out of his parking lot until after he had tied a bandana blindfold around her eyes. They had been driving for what felt like hours.

“This thing itches,” she said, scratching her temple where it rubbed against her skin. “Can I please take it off? I'll keep my eyes closed.”

“Yeah, right. Just a few more minutes. Promise, honey.”

She felt him lean over and give her a light kiss on the corner of her mouth, so she assumed they were stopped in traffic.

“Am I going to make it back from this alive? Are you throwing me off the Brooklyn Bridge?”

“I might if you don't stop complaining,” he said, smiling again. “We passed the Brooklyn Bridge anyway, we're much closer to the bay than the river.”

“The bay?” she said, surprised.

“Yes, the bay. Now quit asking questions and enjoy the ride.”

She sighed and leaned back in her seat, wishing she could look out the window.

About five minutes later, she felt the car come to a stop and heard him shift the car into park and turn off the ignition.

“Are we here?” she asked.

“Yes, we're here, but you can't take it off yet.”

She rolled her eyes behind the blindfold. She heard him get out of the car and a few seconds later she heard her door open. She felt him grab her hand, and he helped her out of the car.

When she stepped out of the car, she felt grainy pavement underneath her feet, but she could smell the salty water of the bay so she knew they were close to a beach. He helped her take a few steps away from the car before he stopped.

“Ready?” he said.

“Of course I'm ready,” she said with a smile.

The minute he pulled the bandana off and she saw the enormous Ferris wheel and rollercoasters, she let out a squeal.

“Coney Island!”

He smiled. “A couple weeks ago, when we were watching a movie, you told me your dad had brought you here a couple months before the accident and you hadn't come back since because it brought back too many memories. I thought maybe if you made new memories, you wouldn't have such a hard time coming back.”

Suddenly she was overcome. Being at Coney Island again after over fifteen years made her sad, but with him next to her it felt different. She felt an overwhelming amount of happiness.

For a few moments she was paralyzed, but then she grabbed him and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“I love you,” she said, whispering close to his ear. “Thank you so much.”

“Anything for you,” he said.

For a few moments, he held her in his arms, not knowing what to say to her. He didn't want her to leave in the morning for Los Angeles, with him headed off to Mississippi. He didn't want to let her go. But he didn't want to ruin this moment for her.

He pulled away from her reluctantly, putting a smile on his face.

“Well, let's go!” he yelled, grabbing her hand and running off like a kid in a candy store.

He pulled her through the entrance, grasping her hand tightly the entire time. They strolled silently for several minutes, and she took in everything around her. It was an emotional overload, remembering the last time she was here. Coney Island always made her father so happy, especially if he got to share it with his little girl.

She knew they shouldn't because they could be caught, but as they walked by the rides and the booths, he held her hand lightly in his. The way he smiled and occasionally glanced over at her reminded her of high school – the only thing that was missing was the sway of their arms together.

After a few minutes of walking, they came across a game booth with dozens of stuffed animals hanging from its ceiling. His eye went to a weapon on the counter in front of the booth.

“Artillery,” he said, and she noticed the silly grin on his face as he stepped up to it.

“Boys and their toys,” she said, watching him pull out a five-dollar bill from his wallet and hand it to the worker.

“You gonna tell me I'll shoot my eye out?” he said as the man handed him the rifle and he put it into position with the butt up against his shoulder, his trigger finger in position and his eyes already focused on his target.

“At least they're not real bullets,” she said, feeling slightly nervous as he pulled the pump action back.

She braced herself as she heard him pull the trigger and pop the balloons, grateful when he finally put the gun down with a satisfied grin.

“Look at that,” he said.

“Testosterone,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “What's next, chest pounding?”

The booth worker handed him a teddy bear with a pink bow wrapped around its neck, and he handed it over to her with a smile.

“A mating call,” he said.

She chuckled and used the toy to hit him on the side of the face.

“I hate you, come on,” she said as she grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the booth.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After spending most of the daylight hours browsing booths, playing games, and walking hand-in-hand through Coney Island, the two of them walked down to the beach at dusk to wind down. It was getting darker every minute and everyone on the beach was packing up their belongings and their families to get back in their cars and go home.

They laid a few feet from the water, both their backs in the sand watching the sky turn a dark blue. She rested the teddy bear on her stomach, looking up at it and playing with the bow around its neck, readjusting it.

“Addy,” he finally said, “what's your story?”

“My story?” she asked.

“You're a mystery to me,” he said. “You leave a comfortable life back in Los Angeles to come work for me. You say you need this job, but obviously you don't need the money; your husband probably makes more money in an hour than I pay you in a month.”

“Who said my life back in Los Angeles was comfortable?” she asked, fiddling nervously with the bow.

“I assumed,” he said. “The money alone...”

“Lance, I don't care about the money,” she said, feeling a grin creep over her lips. “This is what I care about – this moment. We both have flights in the morning and we should be in bed, but we're here enjoying each other.” She reached down to her side and grabbed his hand. “Money's convenient – but if I don't have this, I have nothing.”

“And you don't have this with him,” he stated, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Not even close,” she said with a scoff.

“Why are you going back then?” he asked.

“Maybe it's not about him.”

She turned her head to look over at him.

“Or maybe it's because I'm stubborn as hell,” she said, smiling.

He laughed. “That's no joke.”

“Hey, you shouldn't talk,” she said, thankful that the topic had changed. “You're just as stubborn. We both butted heads with each other all the same when I first moved here.”

“We sure did.”

“There was a time we couldn't get along to save our own lives.”

“Yep,” he said with a smile.

“Now look at us.”

“We can't keep our hands off each other,” he said, making her giggle as he moved over to kiss her earlobe.

“You can't keep your hands off me,” she corrected as he moved from her ear down her neck, ending it with a kiss on her lips.

“Are you complaining?” he asked.

“Definitely not,” she said, returning the kiss.

“You're right though,” he said. “We should probably get home. I need to pack a few more things and we both need some sleep.”

She was reluctant to leave. She was so sure about getting on a plane this morning, but after he had pulled out all the stops to make her day special, she got more nervous as the time got closer to board the plane.

He stood up and held his hand out to her, and with a sigh she grabbed his hand and let him pull her up. She watched him brush stray sand off his jeans with a smile on her face.

Coming closer to him, she pressed her hands up against his chest. It took a lot of strength to push him a few feet, into the shallowest end of the water, but she managed to push him far enough that he lost his footing and fell onto his butt, soaking him from the waist down.

“Oh no. Payback,” he said, and before she knew it he had grabbed onto one leg and then the other. He pulled her towards him, shrieking and crying out the whole time, and eventually he pulled her legs out from underneath her. She was laughing so hysterically that she collapsed with her back on the ground, her legs in the water and her back on the sand.

He stood up from the water, his lower half dripping, and grabbed both of her legs and dragged her further into the water, until the tide started lapping up to her chest, soaking her shirt.

“Stop, Lance,” she finally managed to say through her laughter. “I can't breathe.”

He released her legs, and as she controlled herself, he laid down beside her with his elbow propping him up.

“Change your mind yet?” he asked.

She let a few lingering giggles die down. “Almost...but no,” she said.

“There's nothing I can say, is there?” he asked.

“No,” she said, but she smiled. “I have a life in LA that I need to go back to. I need to face it. I ran away from it once, I can't do it again.”

He sighed; she could tell he was not happy that he couldn't change her mind about the trip.

“My Adeline James,” he said, running a finger down her face to smooth a wet strand of hair away. “She doesn't run away from anything.”

“Your Adeline James runs away from everything,” she said, a sly smile on her face. “Especially you, after she does this.”

She grabbed a handful of wet sand and rubbed it into his hair, which started her laughter again as she watched his only half-amused expression.

“Oh, that's it,” he said, and she was already picking herself up off the sand as he was, both of them struggling with the weight of their wet clothes. She took off running only seconds before he did, her lighter clothes giving her an advantage.

It still didn't take long for him to catch up to her and as he grabbed her, taking her back down to the sand laughing, she wished herself she wasn't so adamant about going back to what she called her “life” in California.

Chapter 13 – Unfaithful

It had been a long time since Adeline enjoyed being outdoors without a coat. She had almost forgotten what warm weather was like, being in New York for so long. It had been a balmy seventy since she had arrived two days ago. She was enjoying being back in LA and spending most of her time outside in her favorite place, the second story deck of their Bel Air home, feeling the breeze from the lake below.

She had spent the evening of her first full day there yesterday, enjoying reading and sunbathing in the day's last light, but this morning Marc had surprised her with breakfast on the patio table. She sat across from him, watching him read the newspaper as he drank his coffee.

Lance had dropped her off at the airport in New York, and because of her self-imposed rules of secrecy, they were limited to only a final glance at each other before she departed. They stood in the middle of the airport before she checked her bags and went through security.

“I guess I'll see you when you get back,” he had said, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

“Five days,” she had responded with a slight smile, trying to reassure him.

“I'll be back early, so you know I'll be here to pick you up if you want to come back before then.”

She smiled and the two of them stole a final look before they both started to walk away – him back to his car until it was time for his flight and her to the baggage check – but she stopped and turned back.

“Lance.”

He had turned immediately and looked at her one last time.

She couldn't say it out loud in case anyone saw or heard them, but she mouthed 'I love you' to him. He smiled and mouthed it back before the two of them had walked away towards their separate destinations.

When she had stepped onto the plane that day, she had held onto that moment in her memory, and she was still holding onto it this cool, breezy morning. She had been miserable ever since she had landed in Los Angeles.

She had expected her husband to be at the airport to personally pick her up when she landed, but after she had navigated through LAX, busier than ever because of the upcoming holiday, she had been greeted by a limo driver. To Marc, it was an expensive gesture; but to her, it meant he was away working again and her arrival wasn't the first priority on his mind.

That first night, he was out especially late – probably at one of his connection's holiday parties, which he considered working. She laid on the couch all night texting Lance, who had sent her the first message telling her he had landed in Mississippi and was already with his family, asking her how LA was so far. She was bored so they exchanged messages until she finally fell asleep at midnight, and Marc had come home shortly after one in the morning.

Yesterday he had worked all day as well, and sent her to Rodeo Drive courtesy of another limo with unlimited access to his credit card – a dream for most women, but an unsavory experience for her. She had tried to make the best of it by buying two new dresses, thinking the whole time she tried them on and waited for the cashier to ring them up how much she knew Lance would love seeing her in them.

This was the first morning Marc had stayed for breakfast, but she knew it was only because he had a late-morning meeting – not because he cared to be here. She knew he left her alone a lot because she was so independent on him; but she was still a woman, and wished for a little more attention.

Attention like she got back in New York would be nice.

“The cleaning crew will be here by eleven,” he said, glancing over at her from behind his paper. “The caterers should be here by two to start the food.”

This year, instead of opting for the typical Thanksgiving dinner centered around family, even if it was only the two of him this year, he had planned a huge party with all his favorite brown-nosers.

She smiled, though it was fake.

“I'll be home,” she said. “Maybe out here, finishing my book.”

“You should go out,” he said, not looking up from his newspaper. “You've spent so much time here at the house since you got into town, you must be going crazy.”

“I like it out here,” she said, and closed her eyes when the wind picked up and hit her face. There was only one thing that would make it better, but he was in a little town named Laurel, probably having a nice pre-Thanksgiving breakfast with his parents and spending quality time with his niece and nephew.

“Well, if that's what you'd prefer. The limo will be available for you if you change your mind.” He took another drink of his coffee and turned the page. “You should wear one of those new dresses at the party tonight. You'd look great in the black one.”

“I'll do that,” she said.

They both went back to their own activities, him catching up on the business page and her savoring the fresh air, until he closed the paper and sat it down on the table in front of him. He reached over the table and grabbed her hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“Addy, I know I've been gone a lot working since you've been here,” he said. “I'm sorry about that. Since you've been gone I've been out working a lot more, and it seems like I overbooked myself for your visit.”

She smiled, genuinely this time; she couldn't help herself, it was the first sweet gesture he had made since she had arrived. It almost made her regret her unfaithfulness.

“It's okay,” she said quietly. “I've been lonely – but I can take care of myself.”

“Tomorrow, after the party, I'll spend the whole day with you. We can go out for brunch, hit the beach...maybe I can pull some strings and get us into Spago for dinner.”

It had probably been over a year since she stepped inside LA's infamous Spago, and longer since she had spent an entire day with him.

“That would be great,” she said.

The happiness of the moment didn't last long. He pushed the newspaper away from himself and stood from his seat, straightening his tie.

“I'd better get to my meeting,” he said.

Adeline's face fell, and the moment of regret vanished.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I should be home by the time the party starts,” he said. He walked over to her and bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said quietly as he walked away through the sliding double doors. She wasn't sure she even believed herself.

Not even an hour later, she was engrossed in her book enjoying the temperature warming up when her phone buzzed from the glass table. She picked it up and discovered she had a text message.

In LaLaLand. Managed to grab a couple days off for the holiday. Nothing better to do 'til dinner with the fam. What the hell is there to do in this town? You should know.

When she saw the name Stephanie, the gloom from this morning disappeared. She sat her book down on the table and started typing, smiling the whole time.

Bust me from this joint, she responded. I'm in LA for the holiday too.

She anxiously waited for a response.

What about Marc?

Adeline scoffed.

Working, she replied. Surprised? Didn't think so. Pick me up in an hour?

It wasn't long before her phone buzzed again.

Oh hell, you know it, the text read. The two of us together? Watch the eff out, LA.

Adeline quickly showered, brushed her teeth and hair, and put on clothes and a little foundation and mascara. She was too excited to put much effort into looking fancy, and knew Stephanie could be early anyway. The cleaning crew showed up at fifteen to eleven, just in time for her to let them into the house because Stephanie showed up five minutes later.

Adeline left directions with the supervisor of the crew to let the caterers in when they got there around two, grabbed a few things including her cell phone, and the two of them left the house quickly.

They grabbed a bit of lunch and spent a few hours walking the streets in a few lesser-known places in town. Most of the stores were closed for Thanksgiving Day, but they managed to stop in a few clothing shops and found a few rather strange novelty stores that were still open. Adeline tried to avoid any conversation about Marc or Lance, keeping Stephanie occupied by asking a million questions about her new client and her life in California for the past two months.

Spent from their day of browsing the town, neither of them wanted to end it early so they hopped in Stephanie's rental car and drove.

“I know I'm probably going to regret asking,” Stephanie said, “but you've been avoiding the topic all day like the Plague. You...Lance...yeah?”

Adeline blushed.

“Oh yeah,” Stephanie said with a smile and a nod. “Dish it – is it amazing? Does he knock your pretty little pink socks off?”

“The frightening part is that you're censoring yourself,” Adeline said. “I don't own any pink socks, anyway.”

“Maybe not, but I helped you organize your underwear drawer when you first moved in. I know you have something in there.”

“Well if you had worded it that way in the first place – my panties find plenty of time off lately.”

Both the girls laughed. Adeline knew she said that none of their friends could know about her and Lance's secret relationship – but Stephanie was a different story. She trusted Stephanie with her life, and she knew she'd never sell their dirt to the media to make a few bucks. Deep down, Adeline knew this was in her friend's grand plan to begin with, and Stephanie was reaping joy from watching all the puzzle pieces falling into place.

“What's the scoop, then?” Stephanie said. “Is it a casual thing? How serious is this?”

“Let's just say, I don't only have a drawer at his apartment. Lately, I've been washing my clothes with his – pink panties and all.”

“Mingling laundry is rarely bad,” she responded. “So then, what's going on with Marc?”

Stephanie watched Adeline's smile fall.

“Come on,” she said. “You had to expect that I'd ask.”

Adeline paused. “Truthfully Steph – I don't know.”

“Have you talked to him about the pictures? The cheating?”

“No I haven't,” she said. “And I don't intend to. Not on this trip anyway.”

“Addy, I love the hell out of you, but you are far too peaceful for your own good. You'd let the Uni-bomber get away with it if he said he was sorry.”

“How can I confront my husband about cheating when I'm cheating on him? I think that's called hypocrisy.”

“I think the two are totally separate issues,” Stephanie said. “Are you shacking it up with Lance because your husband is cheating and you want revenge – or is it because your husband is neglectful and inattentive while Lance showers you with his love and affection?”

“Is it always your policy to make up your own rules, or is this only where Lance and I are concerned?”

“Is it always your policy to be too hard on yourself and give jackasses a pass?” Stephanie asked with a smile. “Or is this only where you and Marc are concerned?”

To Stephanie's surprise, Adeline responded by flipping up her middle finger.

“For the record, I'm not shacking it up with Lance,” she said in disgust. “I love him.”

“Hallelujah! Praise the Lord!” Stephanie said dramatically. “She said it and she didn't lower her voice or hesitate. I didn't even have to drag it out of her.”

Adeline rolled her eyes at her friend and looked down at her phone, playing with the buttons. After a few moments, Stephanie squealed and reached for the volume on the radio.

“I love this song,” she said, turning up “Piece of Me” by Britney Spears.

“You would,” Adeline said. “This could be your theme song.”

“Hey, say what you want about Britney, but I love this crazy bitch,” Stephanie said. “She doesn't take anyone's shit. You could learn something from her.”

“I like my hair and think I'll keep it, thanks,” Adeline said with a smile.

“I was actually talking about ditching the douchebag husband, but okay.”

Stephanie let the conversation lull as she drove down the busy street, with the volume of the music on high, her singing getting progressively louder. Finally, Adeline couldn't take it and reached over to the volume dial, turning it down in a swift motion.

“Hey!” Stephanie yelled. “That's my jam!”

“Why are you so invested in my marriage failing?”

Stephanie was shocked – it was rare that Adeline's tone and stare became so forceful. She actually found herself speechless.

“Is it some kind of Never Been Kissed sort of thing? Do you have a bet going with someone? Or do you get a thrill out of it because you hate him so much?”

“I don't hate him,” Stephanie said. “I hate who you are when you're with him.”

“Who I am?” Adeline nearly scoffed. “I'm the same person with him as I am without him.”

“No, you're not. You remember the first year in college, before you met Marc?”

“Yeah. I read books, listened to music, and hung out with you, like I do now.”

“The difference is that you were happy back then,” Stephanie said. “Sure, your parents dying affected you, but you didn't shut down when someone talked about it. You didn't have anxiety, you didn't have panic attacks. None of this started until eight months ago...”

“Don't,” Adeline said, putting her finger up. “Don't go there today, Steph.”

“I wasn't going to,” Stephanie responded. “And I'm not invested in your marriage failing. I'm invested in seeing you happy. I've always thought Lance was perfect for you, but he was engaged to Mackenzie and you were married to Marc. And then Kenz broke off their engagement, and you and Marc started having problems. I saw the two of you so unhappy. I always hoped you two would cross paths, because I knew if you found each other you would be happy. And now I see both of you happy and stupidly in love, but you're still hanging onto Marc and trying to pretend that you're happy. Are you happy, Addy?”

Adeline paused, starting to feel guilt for snapping at her friend.

“I'm supposed to be happy,” she said. “The house, the money, the publicity; maids and caterers and parties and schmoozing people constantly. People go to great lengths for a life like this. This is how my Nana always imagined it, the reason I moved to California in the first place – the lifestyle of the rich and famous. This is how you're supposed to want to live.”

“It always looks so charming from the outside,” Stephanie said. “Maybe for some people it is. I don't know. I wouldn't want to be married to one of my clients and live like this. As it is, I practically am already, and each day I'm one mocha latte with a double-shot of espresso short of alcoholism.”

“I don't feel that way with Lance, though. I mean, I used to. But now...”

“He's different. I don't know how. He's nothing like your husband. He's got the fame and the money, and sometimes that attitude...but he doesn't act like it. He's a normal guy. If I was in love with him, I could marry him, no second thoughts.”

“It'd be easy,” Adeline said. “It's almost too easy now.”

“Addy...”

She glanced over at Stephanie, who was simultaneously keeping her eyes on the road in front of her, but looking over at Adeline.

“You love him. He's not perfect, but he's perfect for you. He's the Romeo to your Juliet, the peanut butter to your jelly, and all that shit. This is not the lifestyle you wanted and you know it; and you know that Lance doesn't expect any of this from you. You won't say it, but I know you would chew off your left arm to have the guts to file divorce papers tonight and marry Lance tomorrow. You wouldn't even be together if it weren't for me. You're meant to be together. I just opened the can of worms for you.”

Adeline chewed on a fingernail, a nasty habit she had broken in high school but occasionally picked back up.

“Joanna's wedding is in two weeks,” she said. “She made me a bridesmaid at the last minute. He's a groomsman. Guess who they paired up to walk down the aisle together?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the car, and Adeline felt Stephanie's eyes briefly bore into the side of her head.

“Guess I'm not the only one who opened up a can of worms, then.”

After both of them went silent, the phone in Adeline's hand buzzed and she looked at the screen to see a new text message from Lance. He had been sending her silly pictures all day – pictures of the turkey or his nephew sticking out his tongue – but this time, he had sent a picture of himself and his mom both smiling.

Thought about you all day. I wish you were here...feels like something's missing in this picture.

As she was reading, another message bubble popped up.

I love you so much.

She sighed. As she looked at the picture, she felt like she should be in it, next to him.

Book a flight, for tomorrow, she typed back. I'm coming home.

Chapter 14 – Mirror

“Honey, have you been under some stress?”

Adeline looked up at the lady who was holding her hands, examining them.

“You've bitten some of these almost down to the quick,” the lady said.

“Nasty habit,” Adeline responded quietly.

She sighed and looked away from the woman as she started to file what was left of her nails. Since she had been back from Los Angeles, Adeline had been an emotional wreck. Everyone around her had noticed, including Jamie-Lynn and Joanna, which is why they had dragged her out of the house today for a pre-wedding “spa” day at Joanna's. They wanted her to relax, especially Lance.

She wasn't even close.

“Here you go, my dear,” Joanna said, walking in from the kitchen with two flute glasses of red wine, handing one of them to Adeline.

“Thank you,” Adeline said with a smile, grabbing the glass from her with one free hand.

Might be getting a little closer, she thought to herself as she took a long drink from the glass, emptying half of it immediately.

“Slow down there,” Jamie-Lynn said. “We don't want a repeat of Lance's Halloween party this early.” She smiled at Adeline. “What will we do for Christmas?”

“What's wrong with you lately, Addy?” Joanna asked. “You've been a bundle of nerves. A walking, drinking bundle of nerves.”

Adeline put the glass to her lips and took another long drink, leaving only a sip in the glass.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” she said as she swallowed.

“Need a refill, Ms. Winehouse?” Jamie-Lynn said, in complete awe at how quickly the wine had disappeared.

“I'm good,” Adeline said, exhaling a breath as she felt the alcohol warm her stomach and immediately calm her nerves. “I needed something to relax myself. All this wedding stuff...” She paused. “It has me on edge.”

“Try planning it,” Joanna said with a chuckle.

“Why would you be on edge?” Jamie-Lynn said, looking at Adeline. “The only thing you have to do is walk down the aisle and look pretty.”

Adeline stayed quiet, knowing anything she said at this point would give her away.

“You have to walk down the aisle,” Jamie-Lynn said with a smile, nodding knowingly. “With him. That's it.”

“Can I get that refill after all?”

“You like him,” Jamie-Lynn said in an accusing tone, ignoring Adeline's request.

“You're...you're crazy,” she said, scoffing a bit for effect. “I do not.”

“Well something is going on. You're perfectly fine one day and then you come back from your visit to Los Angeles two days early a bundle of nerves, with an obviously new drinking fetish,” Jamie said.

Adeline sighed. There was so much she wanted share – but under the circumstances, she couldn't.

She hadn't told them about her disastrous trip to Los Angeles. Marc had not reacted to her coming back early well. She had told him at the party that night that Lance needed her back early for some unexpected things, and even though she had managed her way through his shindig, Marc hadn't made it easy. He had nothing nice to say about Lance, and had repeatedly insulted him, commenting on everything from his currently “flailing” career to his “pathetic” boyband days. She had gone to bed early in tears claiming she had a headache – and she woke up the next morning before Marc did, hours earlier than she needed to catch her flight, so she wouldn't have to face him.

Seeing Lance for the first time in days at the airport, waiting for her, running immediately to his comforting arms, was wonderful – but it had been short-lived when they both came back to his trashed apartment. His spare key hidden outside his door had been stolen and the door unlocked by the intruder, who had gone through the entire house throwing clothes out of drawers, smashing picture frames, and even spreading toilet paper through every room.

“Who broke in here?” he said, picking up the toilet paper. “A fifteen-year-old? Toilet paper, really?”

“It was him,” she responded, tears rolling down her cheeks as she picked up the shattered pieces of a picture frame on the floor. “It was Marc; it has to be him.”

“Addy,” he said, trying to be comforting, “it couldn't have been him. He was in LA. In fact, you were there; you're his alibi, baby.”

Looking at her, he saw that his words weren't bringing her any solace. He sat down beside her, toilet paper still in hand, and grabbed the large chunk of sharp glass out of her hand, throwing it in the trash can beside her before grabbing her cheek to turn her to look at him.

“Look,” he said softly, “it was probably the same idiots that stole my tires. Idiots trying to be pranksters. I used to get this kind of stuff all the time when I was in the band – dumb kids who didn't like the music and thought it was cool to do this. My landlord is coming to change the lock first thing in the morning; until then, they can't get past the deadbolt.”

Even looking her in the eyes, he could see she wasn't convinced.

“I will never let anything bad happen to you,” he said, running his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “I love you.”

Despite what Lance believed, her gut still told her that Marc was somehow involved – and at the mention of the incident of his stolen tires, she questioned if he could have been involved in that as well. She wondered if he had somehow seen pictures somewhere already and he knew; maybe hired someone to break into Lance's apartment. It wasn't something she would put past her husband.

There had been no more break-ins or stolen tires the past two weeks, and seemingly life had resumed normally for everyone else, except Adeline. She had thought that going back to LA would result in something positive for her marriage, but she returned to find that it was worse than before she left.

She had mixed emotions – she was disappointed, but relieved. After her discussion with Stephanie, she questioned if she could leave Lance behind her to patch things up with Marc. She had realized that her feelings for him weren't simply her broken heart reaching out for attention; they were real.

But what really had her on edge, were the thoughts that were now running full-time through her head. With Joanna's wedding happening the next day, everyone was busy preparing. Lance's tuxedo was prepped and ready for him for tomorrow, and last-minute alterations on Adeline's bridesmaid dress had been made. Flowers were almost ready to be delivered, some decorations had already been hung, and dress rehearsal the night before had gone well.

What panicked her was that she was in a precarious place in her life where she wasn't ready to take the steps toward divorce – but she had every desire to spend the rest of her life with Lance.

“She doesn't just like him,” Joanna finally said. “It goes beyond that. If she only liked him, it would make her uncomfortable at best. She can barely function at the simple thought of walking down an aisle with him at someone else's wedding. She's in love with him.”

Adeline felt her stomach jump into her throat.

“I'd venture to say, by the look on our dysfunctional friend's face, Jamie,” Joanna said, “that the feeling is not unrequited. My guess is that they've been sleeping together for a while.”

“Well, look at us,” Jamie replied. “Good job, Sherlock.”

“Excellent, Watson,” Joanna said, feigning a poor British accent. She turned to Adeline. “Want that refill now?”

“God, yes, please,” Adeline said, feeling the guilty look painted all over her face – the exact one that they had used to figure out her secret.

Joanna grabbed Adeline's glass from the table and took it back to the kitchen, while Jamie-Lynn grabbed a high-backed chair and carried it over to the table, sitting backwards in it to face Adeline.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked. “And why didn't we know about it?”

“Since the Halloween party,” Adeline replied, already feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. “I thought it was best if you guys didn't know – my husband is a director, you're both actresses...you put together the pieces.”

“Since the party?” Jamie said, chuckling. “So you got drunk and slept with him?”

“At first,” she said. “And then, you know...”

“It turned into more,” Jamie said. “How much more?”

“Way more,” Adeline said.

Joanna came back with the glass, and pulled a chair over to sit by Jamie-Lynn.

“So this is not just about sex?” Jamie asked.

“No. I mean, that's great.” Adeline caught the glance from the lady doing her nails and cleared her throat, temporarily forgetting they weren't the only ones in the room. “But whenever I start to think it's a phase, maybe it's just about sex, he does something or says something to make me realize that...that it's never been about sex.”

“If it's so great, why are you stressed about it?” Joanna asked.

“Because it's so great,” Adeline said.

“And things aren't so great with your husband,” Jamie stated.

“They haven't been for a while,” Adeline said quietly. “He works too much and he's gone all the time. We're falling apart and he doesn't seem to care. And...I think he's cheating.”

Joanna and Jamie-Lynn exchanged a look.

“Do you still love him?” Joanna asked.

Adeline sighed. “I don't know,” she said.

“Addy, if you can't say it loud and proud, maybe it's not there anymore,” Jamie said.

“Now you sound like Stephanie,” she said. “She thinks I should have divorced Marc long before now. If she had it her way, I would be the one getting married tomorrow instead.”

“She's your best friend,” Jamie said. “She knows you as well as you know yourself, maybe even better.”

“She knows Lance, too,” Joanna said. “She's spent a lot of time with both of you. She loves both of you.”

“And she's emotionally disconnected from your marriage,” Jamie continued. “She sees what you don't see because she has no emotions involved. There's nothing on the line for her.”

“What are you guys trying to say?”

“We're saying that maybe you should listen after all,” Jamie said.

Adeline sighed, but she could see the caring in their eyes.

“I always thought, if you loved someone, marriage would be easy,” she said. “I mean, we fought and argued, but it was over stupid stuff. He didn't take out the trash or I got a new haircut and he didn't notice, things like that. Then his career took off and he was traveling all the time. He had less time for us. And even when he was in town, he worked late. I should have noticed the cheating and the lies.”

“We don't always see these things,” Jamie said. “We only want to see the best in the person we're supposed to love.”

“There's nothing good there anymore,” Adeline said. “He didn't even have any time for me when I came for Thanksgiving. We didn't see each other for two months and it was like I had never left. It didn't matter at all.”

“You guys are inspiring so much confidence in this bride-to-be,” Joanna said with a smile.

“Marriage is great.” The woman working on Adeline's nails had looked up from the table to all of them. She turned her face toward Adeline. “When you're married to the right person. I don't know who this other guy is, but from what I've heard...I know who I would pick if I had to.”

“See?” Jamie said with a laugh. “Even someone who has no idea what is going on sees it, Addy. Why can't you?”

“I'm scared. Divorce is...”

“Terrifying,” Jamie said. “Depressing. Permanent. Divorce is scary – but it can be so freeing, too. Trust me, I've been there before.”

“How did you know it was time to walk down that path?” Adeline asked.

“I wasn't happy,” Jamie responded. “We weren't the same couple we used to be, and it wasn't that we had grown up – we had grown apart. Like you and Marc, I assume.”

“It's too much change at one time,” Adeline said, exhaling a deep breath. “A new job, a new city, a new boyfriend, if that's what you want to call him...a new divorce is too much. I hate change.”

“You need a slightly less dramatic change,” Joanna said. She thought for a moment before looking back at Adeline with a smile. “Feel like becoming a blonde?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh this was a bad idea,” Adeline said. She was terrified for the stylist to turn her around to face the mirror.

“It's not as drastic as you think,” Joanna said. “It's not platinum, at least.”

Adeline winced in fear.

“It suits you,” Joanna said, trying to comfort her.

They had finally convinced her to make the sudden change and had driven her to the salon before she could change her mind. She had been sitting in the same chair for two hours while the stylist colored, cut, and straightened her hair.

“Joanna, I don't know about this. Is it too late to change my mind?”

“A little bit,” Joanna said with a slight smile.

“Show her before she freaks out on us,” Jamie-Lynn said to the stylist.

Adeline took a deep breath and held it as the stylist turned the chair around, keeping both eyes closed.

“Adeline, open your eyes,” Jamie said with a demanding tone.

She exhaled her breath as she opened a single eye to look in the mirror. The image looking back at her was a shocking change, but she was surprised to see that it was refreshing. She opened her other eye to see the picture more clearly. Her dull, brown hair was now a bright and happy blonde that made every feature of her face look better.

“I love it,” she said, surprising even herself.

“It looks great,” Joanna said.

“The best part is, since you're staying with me tonight, Lance won't see it until tomorrow at the wedding,” Jamie said.

“Don't tell him, let it be a surprise. He'll be blown away,” Joanna said.

Adeline chuckled at her excitement. “You think he'll like it?”

“He'll love it.”

She smiled and ran her hand through her newly cut hair, which had been trimmed to just past her shoulders now – but the smile was short-lived.

“Addy, what's wrong now?” Joanna said, noticing the way her smile had fallen. “You don't like it after all?”

“No, I love it,” Adeline said without hesitation. “It's...”

She paused, looking at her friends' expectant faces in the mirror, waiting for her to speak.

“Nothing,” she said, putting a smile on her face. “It's different, that's all.”

She was relieved when they both seemed satisfied and turned away from her, but she could hardly stand to look back at her own face. She was staring at the face of someone who had kept secrets from everyone she claimed to love.

Chapter 15 - Vows

Adeline fidgeted and mindlessly twirled her wedding bands on her finger. She had been sitting outside the back of the church for twenty minutes, wearing only a dark purple, beaded lace shawl her grandmother had knitted many years ago. Her arms, left bare in the strapless fuchsia bridesmaid dress she wore, were covered in goosebumps, and she had started to shiver about five minutes ago.

She was nervous, but that was no shock. She had managed to avoid running into Lance for the past hour thanks to help from Jamie-Lynn and Joanna, but she knew she couldn't avoid him for much longer. It was freezing outside in the middle of December, but she assumed out here, she was safe.

“Adeline, what are you--”

The large wooden door of the church opened and when he stepped out, she stood up and turned to him.

“Hey,” she said, barely able to keep her teeth from chattering.

She wasn't surprised that he stood there looking at her, shocked.

“Wow,” he said.

“Sorry I didn't come find you sooner,” she said.

“Jamie told me I would find you out here,” he said. “You're blonde.”

“I let them get their hands on me yesterday, and this is what they did. They're a bad influence,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“I love it,” he said.

He took a few steps towards her and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him.

“And I love you.”

He leaned down and when his lips touched hers, he gave her a kiss so intense that when he pulled away, she had to take a deep breath.

“Lance, we're in a place of worship,” she said quietly. “Go easy, we might get struck by lightning.”

He chuckled. “I missed you. It was strange not having you around telling me what to do yesterday, being bossy, being...well, you.”

She smiled, and felt another shiver radiate down her body.

“You're freezing,” he said. He pulled his tuxedo jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Let's go inside.”

She burrowed her frozen arms and torso into the jacket, closing it tightly around her with one hand. She could feel his body heat from it on her skin, warming her up. He reached over and grabbed her hand, and led her to the wooden door.

When he held the door open for her, she chuckled.

“What's so funny?” he asked.

“You've evolved,” she said as she walked inside. “The night we met, you not only didn't hold the door open for me, you nearly slammed it on me.” She smiled. “You've changed so much – it's like you're not even the same person anymore.”

“I'm not,” he said. “The guy you met was angry and bitter at Mackenzie for leaving him, and he took it out on every woman that tried to get close to him. He didn't want a woman like you to like him, so he didn't hold open doors or pull out chairs. He wasn't even nice. He was a jackass.”

“And I didn't let him forget it,” she said.

“I believe you called me a pompous jerkface under your breath that night,” he said with a smile.

They had been walking slowly down the hall, but she stopped to look at him. Still holding his hand, she squeezed it tightly.

“I called him a pompous jerkface that night,” she corrected. “The man that is standing in front of me is not pompous or a jerk. He's one of the most caring people in my life. I fell in love with him...and I don't deserve him.”

He was about to question her when they heard high heels click down the wooden floors of the hall.

“Five minutes,” Jamie said, smiling when she saw she had interrupted them. “You need to be in your places in three or the manhunt will begin.”

She stared at them a few moments, looking between the two. She finally shook her head.

“It's so gross how perfect you two are for each other,” she said before turning and walking down the hall again, clicking her heels with the same fuchsia dress Adeline was wearing, swaying along with her movement.

“They figured it out,” Adeline said after she had turned a corner, catching the smile Jamie had given her before walking away.

“About us?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I'm not surprised,” he said. “Those two – they're good. They got it out of me weeks ago.”

“What?” she exclaimed.

“I was kidding, Adeline,” he said, trying to keep from laughing. “Only kidding.”

“I hate you so much,” she said, feeling herself relax.

“But you just said you loved me.”

“I've changed my mind,” she said, smiling a little as they started walking off down the hall to get into their places.

They were in their spots right on time. She returned Lance's suit jacket to him and as he put it back on, she slipped her shawl off her shoulders, putting it in a safe spot for her to pick up later, and grabbed her bouquet off a table where Jamie had put it.

As she came to stand in her spot next to him and he hooked his arm through hers, she suddenly wondered why she had been so nervous about this moment. He glanced over at her and they smiled at each other, and she felt relaxed and comfortable. Her heart was still beating wildly, but that could have been due to bad dreams of walking down a long aisle in three inch heels.

Jamie, standing in front of them with one of Nick's groomsmen at her side, turned around as Joanna's music started and looked at them.

“Showtime,” she said.

“Are you nervous?” Lance asked, looking at Adeline out of the corner of his eyes.

“Why would I be nervous?” she asked him.

“For one, you're you. Puppies make you nervous,” he said, staring straight ahead preparing to start walking any moment. “For another thing...” He paused. “Has it occurred to you at all that this might be slightly awkward for us?”

She chuckled, but quickly stifled it as Jamie-Lynn started walking, and it would be their time any moment.

“No,” she lied. “That hasn't occurred to me at all.”

He laughed. “You're a really bad liar, Addy. That was epically awful.”

“Oh, you mean, the part where we're walking down the aisle of a church, and I'm in a dress, and you're in a tux, and we're standing up there while a pastor gives a big speech that ends with 'until death do you part' – and it's all a little too freakishly much like a wedding?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I pretty much meant that part.”

It was their turn, and both started walking down the aisle smoothly and steadily.

“That isn't awkward for you?” he whispered.

“Is it awkward for you?” she whispered back.

He paused for a moment before answering, pondering the question in his head.

“No,” he finally whispered. “It isn't. It almost feels normal.”

For a moment, she tried to register what he said in her head, while focusing on the wedding attendees to her left, sitting in the pews among Joanna's sprays of dark pink and white roses that decorated each end.

“Is that bad?” Lance whispered to her.

She smiled at a few of the guests, but not out of kindness or for their benefit – it was a good cover-up for her unexpected happiness.

“No, it's not,” she whispered back, not sure he could even hear her. “It's just what I wanted to hear.”

They were silent as they walked the rest of the way and separated when they reached the altar, Lance standing in his place on Nick's side and her in her place on what would be Joanna's. It wasn't long before the music changed and Joanna came walking down the aisle, looking every bit as beautiful as Adeline had remembered her while she had been in the room, helping her get ready.

The first part of the ceremony was mostly a blur to Adeline as the pastor started speaking, because she was too busy looking to Lance, as he was to her. She had thought if her mind wandered today, it would wander to memories of her wedding day; but to her surprise, her mind wandered to other things.

Before Adeline knew it, Joanna was reciting the vows she had written for her soon-to-be husband standing in front of her.

“I promise to be your lover, your companion, and your friend...”

Lance smiled at Adeline, and she smiled back, remembering the first couple of weeks she had worked with him. She wouldn't admit it to anyone but herself back then, but she did like him. When she was able to shove aside the fact that she hated his attitude, she was immensely attracted to him from the moment she met him. She never imagined he might feel the same way for her, probably because of the way he acted towards her for so long.

When it really mattered though, he showed her how much he cared for her. And it might have taken them a while, and they might have become more now, but he was one of the best friends she had.

“...your partner in life, your ally in conflict, your comrade in adventure...”

She took a deep breath, remembering the day at the auto shop. The way he immediately became concerned seeing her not feeling well, and the way he took care of her. He had helped her to the car, stayed with her to make sure she calmed down, and driven her back to her apartment. The way he stayed with her, to make sure she was still okay – it had exceeded every expectation she had of him.

She had realized that was the point she had fallen in love with him.

“...through the pointless bickering, the long evening walks, the late night phone calls and the good morning texts...”

She smiled again, remembering the constant calls and texts they had exchanged the first few weeks after the party. Any time they were separated for the day, he made sure to send her a text message – sometimes silly little observations from his day, and sometimes it was a simple reminder of the way he felt about her or the way she made him feel. She hadn't spent many nights at her own apartment lately, but whenever she did, he couldn't go more than an hour without calling her to talk. They always spent a couple hours on the phone, and it always ended with a good night.

They hadn't been together long, but they'd already had a couple fights – stupid ones. Pointless bickering was a good phrase to describe it. Not talking to each other had lasted about an hour, and had ended with both of them going to each other after they realized how silly the fight had been, and immediately making up.

“...through the fighting, the joking, the wrestling, and the making up...”

Then there was the day at Coney Island, the night they had spent at the beach. They had stayed out much later than they both planned, because neither wanted to leave and face getting on two different planes the next day. There had been more laughing and wrestling in the sand until both of them were soaked with salty water and sand stuck to every surface of their body. They had finally gotten into his car after dark, and with no towels to dry off they were stuck with wet, sandy clothes and car seats for the long drive back home – but neither cared, because the day was so perfect.

“...through disappointment, mischief, battle, and distress...”

She couldn't deny that she had been thinking a lot more lately about her own distress and battles and it had caused her grief. It was a particularly tough time for her, especially when she realized how much she missed her parents and her grandmother. She wished she could spend the holidays with them, like Lance did. She wished her family were around to meet him like he wanted her to meet his. Even if the circumstances were the same, and she had to introduce him as the man she was keeping a secret, she knew her parents would support her as long as she was happy. She liked to think that they would adore him.

And with the holidays coming up, she had been thinking a lot more lately about other things she had kept hidden from him.

“You are my equal in all things,” Joanna said.

Adeline looked up to see that Lance was looking at her as well, looking contemplative and deep in thought. For a moment, she wondered what he might have been thinking.

“I, Joanna, take you, Nick, to be my husband, my partner and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you, honor you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles we may face together. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love, from this day forward – forever.”

Adeline didn't hear at what point Nick recited his vows to Joanna. She was too focused on thinking about Joanna's vows and what they really meant. When she had married Marc, she hadn't given much thought to that; she had only been twenty-two years old and they had forgone writing their own in favor of the more typical vows.

She questioned if either of them meant them – they had stood in front of the priest repeating them to each other, smiling and happy like Joanna and Nick looked now, but neither grasped the gravity of the words they were speaking. They were both five years older now; they had some good times but in the last few years, there had been more bad times. Feelings had changed on both sides, and obviously neither one loved each other enough to work through what they had been through.

She loved Lance more. In her head, it wasn't so easy, but in her heart, her decision was clear – if they switched places with Joanna and Nick today, she would mean everything she said to him.

She only snapped out of her thoughts to hear the pastor pronounce them man and wife, and hear their guests start to clap once they kissed for the first time as a married couple. Lance's eyes were still fixated on her and only left her when Joanna and Nick turned around and started walking back down the aisle.

By the time they joined each other to walk back down the aisle and get in his car to head to the reception, she noticed that he was unusually quiet.

“See?” she finally said with a smile. “That wasn't awkward at all.”

“Not awkward at all,” he repeated. She searched for a vague smile on his face, but she could only pick up a trace.

Guests cleared out as Joanna and Nick hung around for a few moments, greeting a handful of them. Adeline and Lance spoke to both of them briefly, congratulating them and promising they would arrive at the reception shortly as well. Lance put on a smile in front of them, but Adeline also picked up a hint of something different in his face as he spoke to him.

Joanna and Nick finally left, and the two of them noticed that aside from a couple of stragglers, they were left behind.

“Ready to go to the reception?” Lance asked her.

“Let me grab my shawl and we can go,” she said, hoping that whatever was on his mind wouldn't prevent him from having fun.

He followed her to the room where they had all gathered before the ceremony, and he stood in the doorway leaning up against the door frame as she went to the place that she had hidden it, behind a large vase of flowers.

She moved the vase out of the way, but oddly, there was no shawl in sight. She stood back in confusion and looked to him.

“It's not here,” she said. “Did you move it?”

“I didn't touch it,” he said, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Are you sure that's where you put it?”

“Yeah. I was the only one wearing a shawl and I didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb so I put it behind this vase so it would be here later. Are you sure you didn't grab it for me?”

He only shook his head.

“Hmm,” she mumbled, and moved the vase back into place before walking to every other place she could see in the room that she might have hidden it.

As she moved chairs and opened drawers in random dressers looking for the shawl, he watched her, thinking about the sudden urge that had come over him during the reception.

“Addy,” he said quietly, but he got no reaction from her as her search continued frantically.

“Where in the world could it be?” she asked, to no one in particular. “I know I left it in this room...”

“Adeline,” he said a little more loudly, and her head popped up from the search.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Did you find it?” she said.

“No, but I want to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead,” she said, opening another drawer in a table.

He exhaled a deep breath before speaking.

“Will you marry me?”

Chapter 16 – Secrets

“He did what?!”

Stephanie had yelled so loudly that Adeline had to hold the phone away from her ear.

“He's asleep in my bedroom, Steph!” Adeline whispered forcefully. “Be quiet or you'll wake him up. You already woke the dead within a ten-mile radius.”

“That – that was not in the grand plan!” Stephanie said. “Where did that come from?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. You're the one who came up with the 'grand plan' in the first place,” Adeline said. “What did you think he was going to do once he fell in love with me – be happy being the other man for the rest of his life?”

“Well, what did you say?!”

“What did I say? I said nothing!” Adeline said.

“Let me get this straight,” Stephanie said. “He proposed to you over a week ago and in that time, you haven't said anything to him?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“You're supposed to say yes!” Stephanie yelled, making Adeline hold the phone away again. “Or no,” she said more quietly. “You could say no, too. But you're supposed to say yes!”

“Have you forgotten one tiny detail, Steph?”

“Like what?”

“The fact that I'm already married!” Adeline hissed at her. She was trying to keep her voice low, because Lance was still asleep in her bed. He was a pretty heavy sleeper, but she didn't want to take the risk that he would wake up and hear them gossiping about him like high school girls.

“See, if you had stuck with the grand plan like I had written it, that wouldn't be a problem now, Addy!”

Adeline scoffed. “The grand plan – stick with the grand plan? Huh. Okay, first of all Stephanie, I wasn't even informed of the grand plan until the morning after I ended up in his bed. Second of all, I wasn't even asked if 'the grand plan' was what I wanted.”

“You weren't supposed to be. Duh.”

“Third, you didn't even see this one coming, so how the hell was I supposed to? Fourth, and most importantly, I'm not even sure it's legal to say yes to a proposal when you haven't even filed for divorce yet!”

“Addy, that's ridiculous,” Stephanie said with a laugh. “Of course it's legal.”

“Ah, but is it moral?” Adeline asked.

“What the hell is with your hangup on morals?”

Adeline chuckled, but the scary part was that she knew Stephanie was serious.

“Damn morals,” Adeline said. “And damn my parents and Nana for teaching them to me. What were they thinking?”

Both girls were quiet for a moment. Adeline put a bite of her muffin in her mouth and washed it down with coffee.

“So what are you going to do?” Stephanie said.

“You're expecting an answer that isn't 'I don't know', aren't you?” Adeline said after she swallowed.

“I think the one expecting an answer is him,” Stephanie said. “I'm not sure what the half-life of a marriage proposal typically is. If you don't know what you're going to say, you better figure it out – and fast.”

Adeline tore off another piece of muffin and was about to respond when she felt arms wrap around her. She screamed and dropped the food in her hand to the counter, dropping the phone when she jumped around.

“It's me,” Lance said with a laugh, grabbing the phone before it fell. “I thought you would hear me walk down the hall, I didn't mean to scare you.”

She exhaled deeply, feeling her heart beat twice as fast as it normally did, and leaned against her refrigerator as he put the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Stephanie,” he said. He paused. “Well it's not hard to figure out who she's talking to when she's out here whispering about marriage proposals, thinking I can't hear because I'm still asleep.” He turned to Adeline and smiled. “I hear and see everything – have you been in San Fran too long to remember that I'm better than God?” He paused again as he started to walk to her living room. “Oh no, you did not just call me the devil. I see some things haven't changed...”

He disappeared into the living room, and her heart started to slow and recover from the scare. She quickly cleaned up the muffin crumbs from the counter and threw them into the trash before refilling her coffee and leaning against the refrigerator again and sipping it slowly.

Stephanie was right; she needed to give him an answer. She had told him that she needed time, and he had been understanding – but she didn't know that he would be for long.

She had come a long way from where she was a month ago, but things had gotten too serious for her. Her heart screamed for her to say yes and wondered why she was putting it off. Her head was too busy cowering in the corner to say anything.

She had expected Stephanie to help more than she did – more than simply “say yes”. She had expected her to lay out exactly what she thought Adeline should do – say yes, file for divorce, and be done with it because it was that simple to Stephanie – but she hadn't mentioned the evil “d” word that Adeline hated so much. It might have made the huge jump easier if she had.

What was really hanging Adeline up was her lies that kept creeping up on her. It wasn't only the thought of divorce that kept her awake at night with his proposal burning in her mind.

He walked back into the room, changed out of the clothes he had slept in, still talking on the phone.

“The look on her face?” he said into the phone. “She looks like she's about ready to fly head-on into a nervous breakdown...yeah, if it wasn't so terrifying when she actually does it, it might be amusing.”

Adeline shook her head at him.

“She's giving me a dirty look now...apparently it's not so much fun being gossiped about when you're standing in the room listening to it.”

She chuckled and took another drink out of her mug.

“I have to go Stephanie, I have things to do...yeah, you know that thing called work? Where you do things for people and they send you a piece of paper with a dollar sign and some numbers on it – it's called a paycheck. You wouldn't know what that is.” He paused again and smiled. “Do you kiss your momma with that filthy mouth?”

She smiled, imagining the dirty words that were coming out of Stephanie's mouth.

“Same to you, Steph,” he said. “Have a sunshiny day.”

He hung up the phone, and looked up at Adeline.

“Well, I stirred her shit up for the day,” he said with a satisfied smile. He walked over to the counter and started pouring a mug of coffee for himself. “She has a mouth that would horrify sailors.”

“Exactly how much of that conversation did you hear?” Adeline said.

“Pretty much everything from 'be quiet or you'll wake him up',” he said. “By the way, I'm not so much a heavy sleeper like Stephanie probably told you. And what the hell is the grand plan?”

“Don't ask,” she said. “I wish I didn't know either.”

“I understand where you're coming from, being married still,” he said, taking a drink of his coffee. “And if you say no...I understand.”

“I haven't said anything yet,” she responded.

“I know, and that's why I'm telling you that if you say no...it's okay.”

He said it so calmly and nonchalantly that she wanted to snap.

“Do you have a breaking point?” she asked. “Do you have a point where you'll get tired of waiting around for me?”

“No.”

He took another drink of coffee, then dumped the whole thing in the sink and walked over to her.

“I'm here for you, no matter how long it takes, no matter what you decide. When you love someone, you don't abandon them.” He pulled her in for a kiss, pulling away after a second. “Except when the person you love will kill you if you don't go to your meeting.”

She chuckled, and he leaned in for another kiss.

“I'll be home around three, but if you need me just call.”

He broke away to grab his keys from the counter and his coat off her chair. She followed him to the door, holding it open for him as he started to rush out.

“Hurry up, you'll be late,” she said as he stopped in front of her.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I love you,” he said, brushing her cheek with his thumb as he walked out the door.

After she closed the door behind him, she realized that every time they left each other, it went the same way – they always referred to each other's apartments as “home,” they never walked out the door without a kiss, and they never left without saying “I love you.”

It had been this way since they started seeing each other. It felt comfortable – maybe too comfortable.

She always had guilt for being unfaithful to her husband – a lot more than he had for being unfaithful to her – but it had never stopped her from continuing the relationship with Lance. And she realized that was because her stress was never about making a choice between the two. She had made her choice a long time ago, whether it was obvious to her or not.

Her fear was change, because every time change was brought into her life, it came with devastation. She didn't know what it was like to experience a small change. Chaos followed her around everywhere from the time she was eleven and had lost her parents – since then, every major change in her life brought a loss of someone she loved.

Divorce was a major change. The idea of losing a husband was hard for her to handle, because they had been through so much together. She still loved him – but they had grown so far apart that she wasn't in love with him anymore. And she knew what she had to do.

She was going back to Los Angeles for Christmas; Lance wouldn't like it after the last trip, but it had to be done. She was finally ready to end things.

She fidgeted around the house for a few hours – doing work on her laptop, cleaning up her apartment, and packing a bag – and it was two before she finally picked up the phone to call him and finalize her travel plans.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it's me,” she said, speaking loudly over the voices of people in the background. “I wanted to call and make sure you knew my flight was booked for tomorrow and I would be in LA around five.”

“I'm having a hard time hearing you,” he said. “Did you say flight? What flight?”

“My flight to LA,” she said, confused. “You didn't know I would be coming back to LA for Christmas?”

The voices in the background died down to a mild level, and she assumed he had walked to a quieter place.

“Addy, I thought you knew – I'll be in Paris over the holidays,” he said. “I'm leaving right now for a month. Then I'll be headed to Prague for another month and a half.”

“Prague?” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I'm going on vacation.”

“Vacation,” she repeated. “Um...okay. Well, I can fly to Paris I guess. That will only give me three days with you I think, but...”

“No,” he interrupted. “I'm sorry Adeline, I think you're misunderstanding me – I'll be in Paris filming. I'll be working sixteen-hour days. We wouldn't get to spend any time together anyway.”

Her heart sank to her stomach. He was giving her his classic brush-off.

“It's Christmas,” she said.

“I know, babe, but...I'm working. The film industry calls. This new movie – it will be a big hit. Internationally – I mean, this could be my big break overseas.”

“Well, isn't that great,” she said. She couldn't even hide her disgust well. “So when will we get to see each other again, Marc?”

“We'll make some time to see each other when I come back to LA. Your little friend will give you a couple of days sometime in March, right?”

When she heard him say little friend, she heard a slight distaste in his tone.

“Yeah, I guess he probably would,” she said.

“Great. Let me check my schedule.”

She listened to him rustle around, first looking for his planner and then turning pages, and felt the tears start. She was nothing more to her husband than a penciled-in appointment now. Lance never had to pencil her in – he always had time for her, whether he was busy or not.

“How about...oh no, I have something that day. Hmm...” He mumbled to himself as he turned more pages. “I could try to move that around...but then I wouldn't have time for that. Nothing free that week...”

She sighed, realizing quickly how this would end.

“Adeline, I'm having trouble finding an available weekend. Can you give me a while to see if I can move some things around, and we can talk again soon?”

“Yeah,” she said. “We'll talk again soon.”

“I have to go, they're calling my flight,” he said. “Talk to you later, babe.”

“Yeah, talk to you later,” she said, even though he had already disconnected the call. She ended the connection, but she stared at the phone screen for a few seconds, seeing the 3:32 that flashed on the screen telling her how long the conversation had lasted.

Three minutes and thirty-two seconds – that's how long she was worth to her husband, what she had been reduced to.

She had reached her own breaking point – it was more clear now to her than ever who cared, and he deserved to know why she was the way she was.

She dialed the familiar number and waited with the phone to her ear. It took only a couple rings for him to pick up.

“Hey, what's up?” he asked.

“It's me,” she said. “Are you busy?”

“Just got out of my meeting,” he said. “Thought about picking up a late lunch and coming home to you. Want to join me for lunch?”

“Actually, I already ate. I wanted to know if...” She hesitated. “If maybe you'd meet me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Glendale Cemetery.”

“Glendale is all the way out in Bloomfield, isn't it?” he said. “With traffic, it'll take me almost an hour to get there. Is there a reason you want me to meet you at a cemetery in New Jersey?”

She sighed. She was about to break down into tears.

“Lance, you...you don't know everything about me.”

This time, it was him who hesitated.

“Okay,” he said, confused. “What don't I know?”

“I don't want to tell you over the phone,” she said, feeling her lips start to quiver. “Can you meet me there? I'd rather show you than tell you over the phone.”

“Addy, are you sure?” he asked after a short pause.

“Absolutely sure.”

“Then I'll meet you there in about an hour.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A little less than an hour later, he pulled into the cemetery. It wasn't a big one and since it was three days before Christmas with snow falling, he didn't have a hard time finding her car. He parked his behind hers to the side of the dirt path, exited the car, and walked over to her slowly.

She was leaning with her back against a tree, sitting in a bare patch empty of snow under it, surrounded by headstones and holding a cup of coffee with both gloved hands. She stared intently on one headstone in front of her.

“Adeline?” he asked as he stopped a few feet away. “Are you okay?”

“I talked to my husband,” she said.

“Oh.”

“He'll be in Paris for Christmas.” He noted the disappointment in her voice. “He'll be filming. He was catching his flight when I called him. I'm worth a three minute and thirty-two second phone call before rushing off to get on a plane now.”

“I'm so sorry, Addy,” he said.

“I shouldn't be surprised,” she said, shifting her weight as he came to sit down next to her. “I knew things would be like this when I married him. I should have known that this wasn't the life I wanted.”

He rubbed a hand against her back, and she looked down at the snow-covered ground in front of her, exhaling a breath visible in the cold.

“A year ago this last October, I found out I was pregnant.”

As many things as he had imagined she might tell him on the hour drive to the cemetery, the simple confession shocked him.

“We had been trying for about a year so it wasn't a surprise or anything. In fact, Marc seemed thrilled. He went right out and bought a crib and hired someone to paint the nursery – before he even knew what we would be having. I found out a few months later that it was a girl. We had baby names picked out even before then – Thomas if it was a boy, after his dad, and April if it was a girl, because that was my mom's name.”

She took a shaky breath.

“He went off to work in Canada, and he was gone a month. After that, he came back for a week, and he had a local charity benefit to attend. I don't normally attend those things – I'm so immersed in this world with my job and everything, I prefer to stay out of the spotlight in my free time so I don't lose my sanity. But that night I decided I would go with him. I had been having a few cramps that day, but I thought it was one of those normal pregnancy symptoms. So I got in the shower to start getting ready and after a few minutes, I looked down.”

He finally saw tears run down her cheeks, and he wiped one away with his finger.

“I saw blood running down my leg. I got scared, called Marc in, got dried off and dressed and we went to the hospital – but I knew it was too late. I knew it when I walked into the hospital, and I knew it when they brought me into the delivery room. It was so far into my pregnancy that I couldn't get a D&C – I had to go through labor anyway. He had to leave the room.”

She looked up at the headstone and wiped away the tears from her face.

“We decided to bury her here. He made me think that he wanted to keep my family together, and that's why he buried her here next to my parents and Nana. But I know better, and I always have. He buried her here because it was as far away from us as possible. He never wanted to face it. Maybe he can't handle it. I don't have a choice.”

She sobbed, and he looked at the headstone in front of them. In script, it read April Joelle Sutton – March 20, 2010.

“There's a lady in my apartment building, a single mom that lives right above me,” she said, barely able to speak through crying. “She has a daughter that is almost six months old now, the same age as my daughter would be if she had been born when she was supposed to. And sometimes at night, I wake up because I hear her baby cry. And the funniest thing is that I live in a one-bedroom apartment, have never decorated a baby's room in that apartment – and I still get up to take care of a baby that isn't there.”

“Adeline,” he said finally. “I'm so sorry.”

“I've lost everybody in my life that has ever meant anything to me. My parents, my grandmother, my daughter – and now I've lost my husband, too. And I'm the only one who cares about that.”

She looked up at him.

“But Lance, I don't care anymore. I'm tired of feeling like my worth to him is measured in how many minutes he has before he has to catch a flight. I'm worth more than three minutes and thirty-two seconds.”

“God, Addy, why didn't you tell me this before now?” he asked.

“Who would want to be with a woman that doesn't even know if she can have children?” she asked. “Who would want to waste their time, their chance to have a family? Not my husband. The only decency he has left in his soul is not telling me to my face that that's why he doesn't love me anymore. He always wanted children – not because he cares. Because he wants someone to follow in his footsteps. He wants brilliant children who will go to Harvard or Yale and become doctors or lawyers.”

“I don't know if you've noticed lately, Adeline, but I'm not your husband.”

They exchanged a look, and he reached up to wipe away another tear.

“You should already know that you mean more to me than that. You're worth a lot more than three minutes of my time. I'd love to have children with you, but there are so many more things that are important to me than that. There's so many options – and leaving you because you can't have a baby is not included in those.”

She leaned into his shoulder, dissolving into tears. He caressed her back as he looked to the headstone in front of him.

“You're coming to Mississippi for Christmas,” he whispered into her ear. “To a family, where you're welcome and loved. Because you are – and that's all that matters.”

Chapter 17 – Home

It was quite possible she had never seen anywhere as beautiful as Laurel, Mississippi – or somewhere as small. They had flown into the airport in Jackson from New York because Lance insisted. It meant renting a car and driving an hour and a half to Laurel, but it had been a wonderful drive, albeit quiet.

They hadn't talked much about the scene at the cemetery a couple days ago – and she preferred it that way.

They eventually passed the “Welcome to Laurel” sign, and he yawned from his place behind the wheel.

“At least twice a year,” he said. “Three hours, both ways. This drive kills me. It's so boring.”

“I think it was a beautiful drive,” she said.

“Drive it a couple more times with me and you won't be saying that,” he said with a grin.

“What kills me is this music,” she said, with the tones of country in the background. “Country is my least favorite music.”

“What?!” he exclaimed with fervor, making her smile. “I'm crushed. This is my roots you're insulting – my childhood.”

“Your childhood must have sucked,” she said, because she knew it would get to him.

“My back,” he said. “I feel like I've been stabbed in it. You're killing me, Adeline.”

She smiled at him.

“Just for that,” he said, “I'm turning it up as loud as I possibly can.”

“Oh no,” she groaned, but his hand was already on the dial turning it. He turned it up to an ear-blasting level as a new song came on the radio. He must have recognized it, because he immediately tapped his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat.

“How can you hate this?” he yelled over the loud music. She giggled as his hands drummed and he started singing. “Right now, he's probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky...right now, he's probably buying her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whiskey...right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showin' her how to shoot a combo, and he don't know...”

“Welcome to the South, Addy,” she said to herself.

“This should be your song, Adeline!” he yelled. “It's perfect! Carrie knows how to stick it to cheaters! I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all four tires...maybe next time he'll think before he cheats...”

“I prefer payback that won't get me arrested for property damage!” she yelled at him.

“Your loss! I've heard vandalism can be very therapeutic!”

After ten minutes, he turned onto a residential street, after having tortured her with the music enough to satisfy his hurt feelings. He reached for the volume dial a second later and turned it down.

“I think you should know,” he said, “my family knows about us. I told them a couple of days ago.”

Her eyes grew wide.

“No,” she said. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I tell my parents everything, and they want me to be happy, and because honestly they couldn't care less as long as I'm happy. And also...because they only had one other spare bedroom and my mom was concerned that it might be weird for me to sleep in the same bed as my assistant. I sort of had to tell her why it wasn't weird at all.”

She was unamused at his joking.

“You can't do this to me,” she said. “I'm not ready for this.”

“I didn't tell them that I proposed to you, though.”

“Oh, well thank God for that,” she said sarcastically. “What the hell am I supposed to say to them now?”

“Tell them how much of an asshole your husband is,” he said as he turned into a driveway. “They'll be impressed that you had enough restraint to wait five years before you cheated on him.”

He put the car in park and turned off the ignition.

“Lance!” she said.

“Home,” he said, all but ignoring her protests. “Merry Christmas.”

She sighed as he opened his car door, and pressed her hand against her forehead. She couldn't believe he had thrown her under the bus – she knew he didn't do it to put her on the spot, because he had more than proved that he loved her, but he had still done it. When she thought about it, it wasn't as bad as she had imagined a month ago, but she was unprepared for this level of transparency when she was meeting his parents for the first time.

As she unbuckled her seat belt, the brunette woman she recognized from the pictures he had sent over Thanksgiving ran out to them. Lance immediately embraced her in a hug, and Adeline took a deep breath before opening her car door and stepping out.

“I'm so glad you both got here safe,” she said as she continued to hug Lance.

As soon as she let go of Lance, she looked over and saw Adeline, who gave her a small but nervous smile.

“Oh Adeline,” she said as she walked over to her. “It's so nice to finally meet you.”

She took Adeline by surprise when she immediately embraced her in a hug like she had Lance.

“It's nice to finally meet you too, Mrs. Bass,” Adeline said politely, while shooting him a dirty look over his mother's shoulder.

“Please, call me Diane,” his mom said. “I've heard so much about you, I feel like I know you already. It's nice to finally put a face to the name.”

She stood back from Adeline and grabbed her arms, giving her a look.

“You're more beautiful than he described,” she said. “Gorgeous. Did you have a good drive?”

“No,” Lance said before Adeline could speak. “I hate that drive, mom.”

“Well, if you would fly directly into Laurel instead of insisting on flying into Jackson, you wouldn't have that problem, now would you?”

“That's what I said,” Adeline said, laughing slightly.

“Not five minutes and you're already taking her side,” Lance said to his mom.

“Let's get you both inside,” she responded. “It's cold out here.”

“Mom, we live in New York. This is tropical compared to that.”

“Hush,” Diane said, and Adeline laughed. “You're not even wearing a coat. Get inside.”

She gave Lance a gentle push towards the house, scooting him along, and as Adeline walked a few steps behind them, she decided that she definitely already loved his family.

Inside his house was loud and chaotic, nothing like she had expected. Two younger children, a boy and a girl that she assumed from seeing his pictures were his niece and nephew, were running around the Christmas tree in the living room loudly yelling at each other.

“Hey! Knock it off, you two!”

A dirty blonde-haired woman about Lance's age walked in from another room to yell at them, and looked over to see Lance.

“Hey!” she said excitedly, and ran straight over to him, wrapping him in a hug. “You made it.”

“Of course I did,” he said. “Should I give the kids the lifetime supply of sugar I bought them for Christmas now or wait until later?”

“Shut up,” she said with a laugh. She turned to see Adeline. “You must be Addy.”

“Yeah,” she said uncomfortably.

“I'm Lance's sister, Stacy. It's nice to meet you.” The same as his mother did, she grabbed Adeline for a hug.

“Oh by the way – my family likes to hug people, even ones they don't know,” Lance said with a smile.

Lance's father and brother-in-law eventually made their way to her to introduce themselves. There were so many new, friendly faces who were happy to see her even though they didn't know her, and she quickly became overwhelmed. She hadn't been to a family gathering like this in years, since she essentially didn't have much of a family anymore. She was used to socializing at public events, but most of the people she met gave her no more than a glance or a handshake before they became disinterested in her.

“Stacy, come help me in the kitchen,” Lance's mom said after they had been there a few moments. “Adeline, would you like to join us?”

“Lance hasn't told us a lot about you,” Stacy said to her. “You can catch us up.”

“In Southern-woman speak, that means they want to grill you for details,” Lance said, smiling at her.

“I don't know,” Adeline said to him, trying to whisper.

“Go ahead,” he said in a more comforting tone. “They don't bite. At least not hard.”

The way he put his hand on her back and used his finger to gently rub down her spine and the way his sister smiled at her, made her feel comforted. He had said back at the cemetery that she was going home – to a family, where she was loved and welcome – and she was starting to believe him.

She walked off to the kitchen with his sister following closely behind her.

“Would you like some coffee or tea, Addy?” his mother asked.

“Tea would be great,” Adeline said. “Thank you.”

“You must be exhausted after your flight and the drive,” she said as she grabbed a mug and set to work pouring the water from a still-warm kettle.

“I'm a little tired.”

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour and your bed is all ready for you.” Diane handed her the mug. “I'm sure you've had enough excitement for one day.”

Diane went back to working at the counters, but Stacy watched Adeline as she let the tea steep for a moment before she took a drink.

“You're a quiet one, aren't you?” she finally said.

“I'm sorry,” Adeline said, afraid of offending either woman. “I'm a little nervous around new people.”

“Well,” Stacy said, “we'll have to do something about that, now won't we?”

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The sun had gone down hours ago. It was nearing eleven, and she sat on the bed with her head leaning against the glass of the window, staring outside at the stars in the sky. She was amazed that even at night when all she could see was black it was still so clear. After living in the city for so long, she had become accustomed to smog-covered skies and had forgotten what a brilliant night sky looked like.

His family had been great to her. She had expected an unfriendly welcome after finding out that they knew she was married, but they hadn't even approached the subject so far. His mother and sister had asked her about her job and how she had come to work for Lance, how she liked New York, and what she did in her spare time – 'when Lance wasn't giving her a hard time' Stacy said. By the time dinner was ready, she felt more comfortable, and it was nice to sit down at a real table, to a real family dinner, with conversation. That was something she hadn't done in years, because Marc was almost always gone for dinner.

She sipped on the second mug of tea that Lance's mom had made her – she really did love his mother's tea – and pressed the earbuds into her ears. She couldn't admit it to him outright, because he would probably never let her hear the end of it, but she had found a song that brought her comfort.

“I don't know when we fell apart, the love that we had was like a work of art...”

It made her think of Marc, as much as she didn't want to. He would be in Paris by now, and she wondered whether he was on set, or if he was back in his hotel by now – and she wondered if he was with anyone. She should have seen it from the beginning. Her friends had tried to warn her. Stephanie had tried to get through to her for a couple years before now. She hadn't listened because she loved him; that was the only explanation she could come up with.

“I used to see heaven in your eyes; now angels are falling from your skies...”

She had to give Marc credit – their marriage had been good once. In the beginning, they were in love. He had never been an overly romantic husband. He was more of a rugged, rough around the edges sort of man. He was a hard worker and a good provider, and he had never once laid a hand on her or abused her physically or verbally.

But over the years, her emotions had taken a pretty good beating. Not all of it was his fault.

“And I haven't held you for so long...”

She wished she didn't have the most vivid memories. The death of her parents and her grandmother were still so fresh in her mind, and it hadn't been long since April died. She only got to hold her once in the hospital. All she expected as a new mother was to hear her daughter cry, and instead she heard silence. She remembered there was a soft, pink blanket and she could feel every fiber against her skin. And she could remember how Marc stood in the corner of the room, stone-faced.

“Outside the wind it seems so cold, your heart is frozen like the snow...”

He had changed from the person he was before since that night at the hospital. He threw himself into his work, because apparently that helped him. She had taken six months off to see a therapist and try to cope with the grief of all the losses that life had thrown her way, and she had tried to get him to see one, too – but he refused. After a while, he pushed her so far away that seeing the therapist had stopped working for her altogether. After so long, she started to believe that he didn't want anything to get better.

“Your eyes are red because you've cried, you fell asleep by the fireside...but there's one thing you should know, on this Christmas baby, you don't have to be alone...”

“Addy?”

She had the volume down low, so she heard him speak as he came into the room, and she took the buds out of her ears and put the MP3 player to her side.

“Everyone's gone to bed,” he said as he walked over and sat next to her on the bed. “My mom wanted to know if you're comfortable – if you have enough pillows and blankets and everything.”

“I'm fine,” she said with a tiny smile.

“You don't look fine,” he said. “You look upset.”

“It's Christmas,” she said quietly.

Somehow, he knew exactly what she meant from the tone in her voice.

“It's different this year,” he said.

She swallowed back a few tears.

“It would have been her first Christmas.”

He reached over to her and put an arm around her shoulder.

“It's so unfair, Lance,” she said as she started crying. “It hurts so much. It hurts all the time. And he acts as if it doesn't hurt him at all.”

He stayed silent, because he couldn't say anything positive to her about her husband.

“He went right back to working after it happened, when the very next day I quit my job. He pretends like it never even happened, and I made a promise that I would never forget. And I actually feel guilty for that – like maybe I should forget, because then I could function like he does.”

“Don't let him make you feel guilty for grieving,” he said. “Just because he's grieving in a different way than you, or not at all – don't let him make you feel bad for that.”

“I let him get into my head – tell me how to feel about things – and I'm done with that. Tell me it's better this way,” she said. “Tell me it's better that I move on with my life and forget that he ever existed.”

“Addy, I can't tell you that,” he said. “I love you and I want to be with you, but more than anything I want you to be happy. If that means going back to your husband, I accept that. I don't like it and I don't think you should, but I don't have a choice.”

She inhaled a deep, calming breath.

“But I do think you should know that if you leave, you'll leave behind someone who will never be the same without you.”

She sniffled. “This isn't where you break into a verse of 'This I Promise You', is it?”

He chuckled. “Been studying up? You don't exactly look like the type that was a fan.”

“YouTube is useful for so many things,” she said.

“Gotta love YouTube,” he said. “No, I don't do renditions of 'This I Promise You' anymore, but I do think you should listen to the second verse of 'You Don't Have To Be Alone' a little more closely.”

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyebrows.

“Next time you think you're hiding it from me, remember...I sang that shit for eight plus years. I can spot an 'NSYNC song from ten paces,” he said with a smile. He kissed her forehead. “I'm going to sleep, the kids wore me out, and since tomorrow's Christmas they'll be up at the crack of dawn. I think you need to get some sleep, too.”

He laid down in bed and she followed quickly after him. She let him wrap his arm around her and tried to fall asleep herself, but it didn't come to her easily. After she had laid there half an hour, she heard his breathing fall into a rhythm that let her know he was finally asleep.

She sat up in bed gently, as far as she could without moving his arm so she wouldn't disturb him, and reached for the MP3 player on the bedside table, where she had placed it before she laid down. She turned it back on and watched the screen light up, scrolling back to the song and putting a single bud in her ear.

She let the first verse and chorus play, until finally the second verse came on.

“And I had only one wish on my list...for me you would be the perfect gift...”

Even though it was not Lance who sang the verse, she could see him saying it to her.

“The smiles we gave when our hearts were saved, by each other's love and warmth...that's subsided now, no happiness around, if I could only find the way to your heart...”

As she shut off the player and coiled the headphones around it, placing it on the table again, she contemplated a good night's sleep – and how to tell him that he didn't have to look any further. He had already found it.

Chapter 18 – Moving On

They were both awake by the time they heard little feet running down the stairs and the children yelling loudly. The sun had started to rise and it shone brightly into their window, but they squinted against it rather than move to close the blinds.

“I think they're excited,” Adeline said, smiling.

“I'm surprised they slept this late,” he responded. He used his arm to shield his eyes against the sun. “And that they haven't run in here yet. Last year, Keegan burst through my door at six in the morning screaming and jumping on me. Practically woke up the whole neighborhood.”

“I could barely get to sleep by six in the morning when I was his age. Christmas is so exciting.”

He groaned sleepily. “Christmas or not, I could use a little less excitement. What a wake-up call that was. I'm too old for this.”

“I'll call you Scrooge,” she said, smiling and snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“You do that,” he said, smiling himself.

It was a few minutes later that both children ran into the room, screaming for “uncle Lance” and teamed up, grabbing him by the arm.

“Go away, you little monsters,” he said with a moan, but Adeline saw the smile on his face.

“But it's Christmas,” Keegan said with a whine.

“Yeah, it's Christmas,” Leighton said, looking her uncle in the one eye he had uncovered with his arm.

“Yeah, it's Christmas, uncle Lance,” Adeline said, smiling at him before pulling her mouth into a pout like the children.

“Well why didn't you tell me it was Christmas?” He shoved the blanket covering him off to the side with a newly found excitement. “What does Christmas morning mean?”

“Presents!” both kids yelled in unison.

“Presents! Let's go!”

As the children dragged him out of the room and down the stairs, Stacy walked through the door, looking at Adeline.

“Sorry, I couldn't hold them anymore.”

“It's okay,” Adeline said with a laugh, shoving the blanket off her so she could stand up.

“You've just experienced the Bass family Christmas morning alarm clock,” Stacy said. “It's the first gift you receive that you want to return.”

Adeline and Stacy walked down the stairs together in their pajamas, to see Lance and the kids already seated on the living room floor by the Christmas tree. Diane and Jim were coming out of the kitchen with coffee cups in hand, smiling at the children who were still excited. As Stacy walked down the stairs ahead of her to join her kids, Adeline stopped for a moment to take in the sight and the feeling that took over her.

Family – it was something she hadn't had for a while. A husband and a grandmother alone didn't make a family, especially when they didn't usually gather together for Christmas like this. In her Nana's last few years, a cross-country trip was too far for her to make at her age and it seemed every year, Adeline and Marc had been too busy to make the trip to New Jersey to see her.

She regretted that now, even if her Nana always understood at the time. But she knew that her Nana would also want to enjoy herself while she was here, and not dwell on the past.

“Addy?”

She hadn't even noticed that Lance had walked over to her and was standing in front of her, a concerned look on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She smiled. “I'm fine,” she said genuinely. “I was thinking how glad I am that I came with you this time.”

“Yeah, I'm glad you did too,” he said, smiling back.

He grabbed her hand and walked with her down the stairs, pulling her into his lap when he reclaimed his spot on the floor. The children were so excited that they couldn't wait to open their gifts, and as soon as everybody was seated and Stacy gave them a signal, they each grabbed a present and went racing to open them.

The adults sat as the children opened all their gifts first, smiling and laughing at the reactions. Adeline couldn't remember when the last time she'd smiled so much around children was. The past few months, she struggled emotionally at the mere mention of children, much less being in their presence. She had been concerned knowing that his niece and nephew would be here, wondered if she could handle being around them.

She couldn't deny that it was hard for her. She knew she may never have what Stacy and her husband Ford had. But as sad as it made her feel, it didn't overshadow how much she was enjoying herself.

By the time the kids had opened all their packages, they were surrounded on the floor in their pajamas by a mountain of toys, several of them of the noise-making variety.

Stacy looked over at her brother, who Adeline knew from helping him wrap them was the main source.

“Thanks, little brother,” she said. “A migraine headache. Merry Christmas to me – it's the gift that keeps giving all year long.”

He smiled at her, his sarcastic smile that Adeline knew so well.

“No problem, sis,” he said.

“Stop, you two,” Diane said. “Everyone settle down, we still have more presents.”

Adeline laughed as she looked at Lance's face behind her, watching as his mom's scolding shut him down immediately as if he was a kid all over again.

Over the next few minutes, presents were passed around to the adults while the kids entertained themselves, everyone opening their presents. Diane grabbed a box from the pile and Adeline was surprised when she held it out to her.

“From Stacy, Jim, and myself,” she said. “I know you'll say we didn't have to – but we wanted to. I hope you'll like it.”

Adeline smiled at her, deciding not to protest the unexpected gift. Instead, she held it in her hands a few moments while she felt its weight, and carefully tore the wrapping. She lifted the top off the box and pushed away the tissue paper, revealing dark purple fabric. When she pulled it out and unfolded it, she ran her fingers over the purple lace bodice and the soft, stretchy skirt of the dress.

“This is beautiful,” she said to Diane. “It must have cost a fortune – it's too much.”

“Not at all,” Diane said. “The way Lance talks about all that you do for him, you deserve it. I had to ask him what your size was, so I hope we got it right.”

Adeline turned to Lance.

“Wait – how do you know my dress size?” she asked.

“Let's not talk about that in front of my mom, okay?” he said. “I'll find myself on Santa's other list.”

She smiled, but felt her cheeks warm up.

“It's gorgeous, I love it,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

“I have something for you, too,” Lance said. “But you have to wait for it – and it's a surprise.”

As everyone else went back to opening their own gifts, her memory flashed back to Coney Island, the last time he told her he had a surprise for her.

“Why do I have a feeling I'll be wearing this dress tonight?” she asked him.

“You know me too well,” he said, smiling.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where are you taking me?”

He laughed. “Do you know the meaning of the word 'surprise'?” he asked her. His arm was placed lazily on the steering wheel of the car. “You have no patience.”

“There can't be too many places you can take me. It's the evening of Christmas – almost everything is closed.”

“Yep, you're right,” he said with a slight nod.

“It's probably not church, since that's where your parents went.”

“Right again. It's not church.”

“You're under-dressed anyway,” she said, eyeing his stonewashed denim jeans and black button-up with t-shirt combo. “And you're totally overdressed for Wal-Mart or the local convenience store, so that can't be it.”

He chuckled.

“That's all I've got,” she said. “I have no more ideas. I have absolutely no idea where you could be taking me.”

“Finally,” he said. “I thought you'd never stop trying.”

“At least you didn't bind and gag me this time,” she said, remembering how uncomfortable the blindfold had been.

“I sort of wish I had gagged you,” he said quietly, smiling when he saw her look out of the corner of his eye, her stare filled with venom.

“You'd better be kidding,” she said lowly, in a warning tone.

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into the car seat, staring out the window as they drove down the streets of Laurel. She loved the dress his family had given her and was wearing it tonight. It fit her perfectly, the stretchy material of it hugging her curvy body.

She felt ill-prepared for whatever he had planned tonight while looking through her suitcase – she had only packed relaxing clothes for the trip since she didn't think she'd be doing much work. She was lucky that she was able to borrow a pair of his mother's dress shoes and Stacy was able to help her do something with her hair besides put it up in a ponytail.

She felt a little lost, not knowing where he was taking her or what her surprise was. She was also nervous, knowing that she had something she wanted to talk to him about tonight as well; hoping that whatever her surprise was, it was private enough to give her a chance, not knowing how he would react to it.

A couple minutes later, he turned into an open space behind a worn old brick building. Looking around, it looked like an employee parking lot, completely empty like every other parking lot.

“What is this?” she asked him as she unbuckled her seat belt, and he did the same.

“Your surprise,” he said, smiling before he opened his car door and stepped out.

Wondering what was going on, she smirked and opened her door, stepping out onto the beaten gravel lot while smoothing her dress down. He had already made his way toward the back door, and he had climbed up onto a trash can underneath a window.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“Finding the key,” he said, feeling his way around the window frame. He stopped when his hand found a hidden gold key taped to the frame, and peeled it away.

“Breaking and entering is my surprise? Or is it watching you get arrested?” she said, smiling.

“My friend owns this place,” he said, and jumped to the ground from the trash can. He walked over to the door. “A guy I used to sing with in high school. He gave me permission to use the place for the night.”

“For what?”

He put the key in the lock and turned it.

“We've never been out on a real date,” he said. “That bothers me – but I have to be okay with it. You're the one putting your whole marriage on the line. But just because I have to be okay with it, doesn't mean I can't do everything in my power to make it as real as any other relationship.”

He opened the door for her slowly, looking her in the eyes in the dim night light.

“Well,” she said, partially stunned, but impressed. “You have all kinds of things up your sleeves.”

She walked through the door, and he followed, closing the door and locking it behind him. The place was dark until he flipped a switch. About half the lights turned on, bathing a glow over the restaurant, illuminating cozy wooden booths and walls covered in vinyl records, black and white movie posters, metal street signs and other memorabilia.

“Are you sure it's okay that we're here?” she asked, taking in the sight of the place.

“I was told that as long as I don't burn the place down, it's all good,” he said.

He walked over to the corner behind a row of booths and reached down, and as she looked up, the lights on the Christmas tree came on, followed by several strings along the trim of the ceilings.

“This place is amazing,” she said. “Your friend really owns this?”

He disappeared into the kitchen, but she could still see him and hear his voice through the open window behind the counter.

“Yeah. He made his way to culinary school in California and worked in a couple of Hollywood restaurants after he graduated, but he got homesick. He decided to come back home about five years ago and open this place.” He came back through the kitchen door with a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine. “He wanted to bring a little slice of retro Hollywood to the South,” he said, smiling as he popped the cork.

“He did a great job,” she said. “Look at this place.”

He walked over to her and handed her a full glass that he had poured.

“It's not exactly Los Angeles,” he said. “It's not what you're used to. It's not Spago or anything.”

She got the impression that he felt she might be disappointed, that he thought she was used to bigger and better things because of Marc. She had to fight back a chuckle – if only he knew.

“No, it's not – it's much better,” she said.

He smiled.

“I have to put food in the oven or we won't be eating tonight,” he said. “Feel free to look around and check out the place if you want.”

She nodded quietly and watched him as he disappeared into the kitchen again. She took a drink from the wine he had given her. She was surprised she felt relaxed tonight, but she still had a small clump of nerves that rested inside her stomach. She didn't know what he would say when she told him what she needed to say. Deep inside, she knew she was doing the right thing, what was best for her, but she hated having to make a choice.

She walked toward a wall covered in memorabilia. She eyed a few of the shiny vinyl records, remembering the old collection of vinyls Nana had kept in her attic for years. She would pull them out a couple of times a year and play them for Adeline. She loved hearing the old stories as her grandmother listened to the different songs and reminisced on a memory of who she was with the first time she heard the song, or how it made her feel when she listened to it. To this day, she couldn't hear an Elvis Presley or Dean Martin song without thinking of Nana.

She could almost hear the scratch of the record, playing one of their favorite songs as her eyes moved over the wall to scan each piece, and soon Adeline found herself humming the tune.

“I can't help falling in love with you...”

Her eyes fell on a framed picture of Audrey Hepburn. She remembered the day she had left for college in Los Angeles. She had packed only three suitcases of belongings to take with her and as she gathered a few last minute things to take with her on the plane, and Nana – heartbroken at her only granddaughter leaving – had put on a smile all day, telling Adeline what a fabulous time she would have.

“You run across one of those celebrities, you make sure to get me an autograph,” she had told Adeline. “You run into that Tom Cruise fella, that will work. Or that Brad Pitt – he's a cutie.”

Adeline chuckled at the memory – only to avoid starting to cry.

“I'll make sure to do that Nana,” she had said. “Maybe one day, I'll work for them.”

Adeline wasn't necessarily the kind to believe or disbelieve in the sort of thing, but sometimes she swore she felt her grandmother with her. Lately she had felt it even more. It was only once in a while, a calming feeling would fall over her, something that was rare for her to feel since she had lived with some form of anxiety for several years. She couldn't explain it, but it felt like her grandmother saying, 'It will be okay.' She felt it tonight.

“Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be...”

“That's a great song.”

She turned around suddenly, not knowing he was behind her again.

“You really have to stop doing that to me,” she said with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he said with a smile. “I swear I don't do it on purpose. You were singing Elvis, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “My grandmother loved him.”

“She must have been pretty young when he was big.”

He sat down in a booth, leaning his back against the wall, and she sat next to him, leaning into him.

“You know, I guess I never thought about it,” she said. “She was in her sixties when I went to live with her, and that was in 1994 so...I guess she was in her twenties? Her and my grandpa were big fans – I always thought it was funny, back in her day, listening to Elvis was 'rebellious'.”

“You've never talked about your grandpa,” he said.

“I don't know much about him. He died when I was young,” she said. “I think I was two.”

He paused, and took the opportunity to grab her hand and lace his fingers through hers. It hurt him every time she revealed another piece of her heartbreaking history.

“The dress my mom picked out looks great on you,” he said.

She smiled, even though he couldn't see. “It would look even better if I had my Nana's shawl, it would match perfectly. I'm still so mad at myself that I lost it. I have no idea where it could have gone.”

“Hopefully that pastor we talked to after the ceremony will remember to keep an eye out for it,” he responded. “We'll find it, one way or another.”

The calming feeling fell over her again.

“Maybe I'm not supposed to find it,” she said. “You know, maybe it's a sign.”

“A sign of what?” he asked.

“I've spent the past sixteen years of my life mourning,” she said. “My grandma did all she could to try to fill the void for me after my parents died, but she couldn't do anything. She'd be devastated if she knew I was the same way after she died. It would break her heart. Maybe it's her telling me that I need to try to move on, that it's okay; that she's okay.”

“That's a good way of looking at it.”

She took a deep breath.

“Maybe I need to apply that to other areas of my life, too.”

He leaned to look at her with a questioning look in his eye, and she saw him out of the corner of her eye but avoided looking at him directly.

“I've decided I'm leaving my husband,” she said. “I plan to fly back to Los Angeles to meet with a divorce lawyer after New Years. I can't – and don't want to – keep pretending I can fix something that has been broken for years. I'm ready to move on with my life.”

There was a long silence between them, and he wasn't sure how to respond to her because he only felt happiness that she had finally taken this step.

“I know what I want now,” she said. “I want to be with you. I want to marry you, Lance. So my answer is yes – I will marry you.”

Chapter 19 – Not So Fast... (Part 1)

Adeline couldn't stop the grin on her face as she watched Lance interact with two fans that had stopped them at the airport. He had signed an autograph for each of them and she was now watching as a friend took a photo with one of the girls' phones.

“This is so going up on Twitter!” one of the girls said after the photo was taken.

They both crowded around their friend and the phone to look at the picture with awe on their faces. After they were satisfied that the picture had turned out good, they both thanked Lance for taking the time to talk to them, and happily walked off.

“You made those girls' day,” Adeline said when he returned to her.

He put his suitcase on the conveyor belt and grabbed hers from her hand to do the same.

“That doesn't happen as often as it used to,” he said. “I guess because I haven't worked much the past couple of years.”

“Why is that?” she asked him.

“Well at first, you know, I was wrapped up in Mackenzie,” he said. “Then for a few months I was engaged and spending some of that time helping her plan a wedding. When she left...well, let's just say I was too engaged in feeling sorry for myself to work.”

She felt sorry for a moment that she had brought it up, but when he looked at her, he smiled.

“No worries,” he said. “That part of my life is over. You see this smile? This is the smile of a happy man. How can I feel sorry for myself when I'm marrying the most beautiful personal assistant on the East Coast?”

She smiled, but held a finger to her mouth.

“Lance, shhh,” she said, looking around at some of the people surrounding them in the airport. She was still a little cautious in public, making sure they didn't talk too loudly about their relationship or engagement and they didn't get photographed showing any affection towards each other. She hadn't made her plans of divorce completely official yet. Until she did, they still had to stick to a certain level of secrecy.

“Sorry, I can't help it,” he said. “I can't wait until next week.”

“Maybe next week,” she said.

They were headed back to New York today after spending a week in Laurel, but Adeline would only be home tonight and tomorrow before she left the next day on a plane headed to Los Angeles, all by herself. She had a consultation in three days with a divorce attorney she had found on the internet. She hoped that she would be able to file right away, and he hoped they could go public with their relationship shortly after by joining her in LA, but she had no idea how the meeting would go.

“We'll see how it goes,” she continued. “Until then, do me a favor and wrap up all that excitement and put it away in a pretty little package and keep it there, okay?”

He shook his head.

“You're breakin' my heart, baby,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

Once they were on the plane and everyone else had boarded, she felt comfortable enough to reach over and grab his hand. He briefly looked over at her, both of them content but silent. She rested her head on his forearm and looked down at her hand in his.

It was so foreign to see a ring on her left hand again. He had surprised her with it right after she had answered him with a yes. It had shocked her to realize that he'd carried around a ring for two weeks waiting for her. It had amazed her to find out that he had gone out on a whim the day before Joanna's wedding and purchased it, even though he didn't plan to propose to her this soon – until an uncontrollable urge came over him at the ceremony.

It was even more foreign to her figuring out a balance between the engagement ring on her left hand that meant something to her, and the rings on her right hand that didn't mean anything to her anymore. She felt obligated to continue wearing her wedding rings until she severed the marriage on paper; she wanted to wear her engagement ring. It felt awkward to wear both at the same time. She had taken to trying to avoid looking at her right hand and only focusing on her left, but that had proven difficult for her as she favored using her right hand.

They planned to attend a little New Year's Eve get-together that Joanna and Nick were holding at their new house later that evening after they landed, as a New Years-slash-housewarming party, with close friends and family of Joanna and Nick. It would be the first time they went semi-public as a real couple; a test drive until the real thing was possible for her.

And she had absolutely no intentions of wearing her wedding rings to the party tonight.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adeline held up two dresses, one in each hand, against herself in his bathroom mirror – an above-the-knee, lace dress in black, and a long and silky, pink halter dress – trying to decide which she would wear that night.

Their plane had landed a couple hours ago and they barely had time to grab some dinner and sit down to rest before it was time to get ready. They were both tired, but they had promised Joanna they would be at the party. They decided they would stay a couple of hours before they came home.

As she held the pink dress up for the fourth time, he walked into the bathroom and saw her staring at the mirror.

“Black,” he said without having to be asked – he knew her well enough to know she would ask his opinion anyway. “It's more casual, and you look good in black.”

She put the black dress up to her body without saying a word, and smiled when she saw he was right.

“Are you going to finish getting dressed anytime soon?” she asked, looking at him with his shirt on but left unbuttoned and untucked from his slacks, not wearing shoes yet.

“Nope, I'm going to go to the party like this,” he said as he left the room.

She rolled her eyes, but finished getting dressed, putting on a little makeup to refresh what she already had on and throwing her hair up with a rhinestone clip. Even though she was normally a stumbling mess in them, she squeezed her feet into her best black pumps.

She was finally ready and in his entryway putting her stuff into a sequined clutch purse when he stepped out of the hallway – along with his pressed white shirt, black slacks, and shiny gray tie and dress shoes.

“Do I look good, or do I look good?” he said with a cocky grin.

“Eh,” she mumbled, trying to sound indifferent. “You clean up okay, I suppose.”

She started walking off to grab her coat, trying to keep the smile off her face when he rolled his eyes and attempted to look upset, but then his eye caught something. She got a few steps away when he grabbed her arm and turned her slowly toward him.

“Something's missing,” he said.

“Your suit jacket?” she asked.

“Your rings.”

He grabbed her right hand and held it up, knuckles facing her. She eyed her hand and then him suspiciously.

“Does that bother you?” she asked.

“I don't know,” he said. “It's...a big step. For you, I mean. That's all.”

“For us,” she said, smiling.

He let go of her hand when she pulled away to grab her coat and close her purse. He wanted to smile, but he couldn't stop the flow of unmistakable guilt from flowing straight to his heart.

“Now let's go,” she said, walking to the door. “We don't want to be late to the party. I'll have to tell them all that I had to wait while you fussed over your hair like a girl.”

Her playful insult flew straight over his head as he pushed down the sudden, unwelcome feeling that had overcome him.

“Yeah,” he said as he grabbed his coat and keys. “Better get to the party.”

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“Joanna, this house is amazing.”

Lance and Nick stood back as Joanna and Adeline led them through their new house on a small tour, ignoring the guests that had already gathered.

“The hardwood floors in the kitchen are brand new,” Joanna said to Adeline. “Granite counter tops, brand new appliances, and the cabinets – the cabinets are cherry...and they're gorgeous.”

“Women. They really will go crazy over anything pretty, won't they?” Nick said as he turned to Lance, who chuckled.

“Look at this backyard,” Adeline said as she wandered over to the sliding glass doors that led to the patio area. Her eyes wandered over the sitting area paved with gray stone, a full patio set, and a lit-up swimming pool in the distance. She turned to look at Lance. “I want this backyard.”

“Backyard – check,” he said.

“I want that pool.”

“Pool – check.”

“Throw in the patio set, too. Make it happen, honey.”

He smiled. “Joanna, you wouldn't be interested in selling the place anytime soon, would you?”

“Look at you guys,” Joanna said, smiling at Adeline. “Calling him honey? In public? You're engaged. And you're not wearing your wedding rings.”

“And I'm not having a panic attack about any of it, thank you very much,” Adeline said.

“Another one sucked in. You're in trouble, friend,” Nick said, slapping Lance lightly on the back.

Joanna and Adeline walked off as Nick followed, but Lance hung back a few steps. He couldn't explain the feelings he had been having since they had left the apartment. He had been so sure of what he wanted three weeks ago, and he knew part of him still was.

But when he had caught a glance of her right hand and saw that her rings were gone – those rings that had caught his eye so many times, that had only served as a reminder to him of how untouchable she was – he had panicked.

“I'm going to get some fresh air,” he said, interrupting the conversation Adeline and Joanna we having about the new furnishings.

“Are you okay?” Adeline asked him.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he said, trying to be nonchalant.

“Okay,” she responded, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he passed the test. “I'll join you in a while. Enjoy our patio while we're letting Joanna borrow it.”

He turned around as Joanna started to laugh and as he walked through her new patio door, he took a breath of cold, fresh air. As he felt himself start to calm down, he put his hands in his pocket and walked over to sit in the chair closest to the pool, enjoying the quiet to think.

He hadn't expected her to take off her wedding rings yet. It was a huge move for her, especially tonight. She had been so adamant about secrecy, and sometimes a bit paranoid in his eyes, even around Joanna. He had almost expected her to avoid wearing the ring he had given her in case anyone caught her wearing it on camera, and he had forced himself to accept that early on. He had accepted almost all of her anxieties and fears surrounding their relationship.

The thing he hadn't learned to accept yet, and hadn't even known it was coming, was his own anxiety once he realized that she intended to go through with her divorce. He had been one of the people in her life pushing her toward this point, but he hadn't known it would feel like this if she ever reached it.

“I broke up a marriage,” he whispered to himself with a sigh.

Granted, he told himself silently, it was a marriage that had been failing before he came into the picture. And the only reason it had reached this point was because the guy was a cheater, a liar, and in Lance's eyes, a horrible human being period. Adeline deserved better than that, whether “better” meant Lance or not. He had fallen in love with her, but if for some reason he hadn't, he still would have told her to leave her husband.

At least he thought he would have.

He was still debating it when he heard the door slide open and turned around to see her walk out. The minute the air hit her arms, she pulled them to her body and crossed them over her chest.

“It's so cold out here,” she said. “What are you doing? Why don't you come back inside with me to see our friends?”

“I'm thinking,” he said, turning back to look at the pool.

“That's never a good thing,” she said, laughing.

She saw that he cracked a hint of a smile, but he hadn't been his normal self since they left for the party.

“Is something wrong?” she asked. “It's so strange for you to be this quiet. Usually you're the one cracking all the jokes and I'm outside trying not to have a panic attack.” She rested her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “This role reversal is a bit exhausting.”

“Did you take off your wedding rings for my sake, or for yourself?”

She was taken by surprise by his question. She had assumed that he was quiet because he was tired from the long vacation in Mississippi and the flight home.

“I'm not sure it matters,” she said. “Isn't it all the same?”

“Of course it matters,” he said. “It feels...sudden. Forced, maybe.”

She smiled. “You didn't force me to take off my rings. That was a decision I made myself.”

“Was it?” he asked.

She walked around and pulled a patio chair closer to him, taking a seat in it.

“It was for me,” she said, looking at him. “When I get on that plane in a couple days, I'll put them back on – for appearances sake. But once I meet with the divorce lawyer and figure out where this divorce is going and how fast...that's it.”

She smiled at him.

“Those rings will be gone, in fact they're going back to him. Taking them off for tonight was all for me. I needed to admit to myself that no matter what's happening with you and I, it's over with Marc, for good. It's been over for a long time, longer than I thought. I hate to say this...” She stopped to chuckle. “...Stephanie was right.”

“Wow,” he said. “You have changed. The Devil probably has goosebumps from the chill.”

She laughed. “I know it's odd for me to say, but I know that she was – now, that is. She never liked him, not even the day I met him. You know Stephanie and her 'feelings' about things. He didn't give her a good one. She never trusted him. The day of our wedding, she told me her only hope was that he didn't break my heart so bad that the damage was irreparable.”

“Note to self – Stephanie's out of the running for maid of honor. That was a bit harsh on your wedding day.”

“But like I said, she was right,” she responded. “He's probably been cheating since before we were married.” She groaned. “God, she's been right about everything – about Marc, about me avoiding all this, about you and me...”

“Wait, you and me?” he said. “What does she have to do with you and me?”

“You're kidding me,” she said, more of a statement than a true question. “She hasn't been pushing you to realize that we're perfect for each other for months?”

“No,” he said. “She boasted about all your skills and how great of an assistant you were, but she never went anywhere beyond that. In fact, if she had mentioned anything about that, I probably would have shut her down right there.”

“And that's exactly why she didn't mention it,” Adeline said. “She knows you and knew that if she did, you would have resisted it. She's going to die – I will kill her.”

He laughed, but with his mood, it died off quickly. “I guess it doesn't matter now, because we fell in love anyway.”

She immediately noticed the tone in his voice.

“Lance, you're not having second thoughts about us, are you?”

He sighed. “I don't know, Ad. There are no second thoughts about how I feel for you. I love you, I want to marry you, and I always will no matter what happens. It's moving so fast. You hated me three months ago, now you're ready to leave your husband for me? I don't want you to resent me a year from now when you realize this isn't what you wanted.”

“Are you afraid this isn't what I want?” she asked.

“I'm afraid that this is happening so fast and it's what you want now because it's exciting and fresh – but after you leave him and it finally hits you what you've done, it will be different.”

She wanted to say something to make him feel better, but as she thought about it, she couldn't. He made a good point. She knew she loved him, but she couldn't say that she wouldn't regret it later.

“Well,” she said, “I guess we'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Seeing that he wasn't feeling better, she stood.

“I'll go get us drinks.”

She leaned down to him, and as he looked in her eyes, she smiled and kissed him.

“I love you, my little homewrecker,” she whispered to him before she walked away.

He turned and watched her walk across the patio, the corner of his mouth turned up in a grin as she opened the door and walked back into the party. It seemed to be getting busy and more guests were arriving, since he heard a lot of people talking when she opened the door and he saw people he knew walking around the house through the window.

He thought he should try to go back into the party when he heard the door open again and heels click against the stones.

“Hey stranger.”

He was surprised it wasn't Adeline's, but instantly recognized the voice. It startled him so much that he whipped around in his chair to look at the person behind him.

“Kenzie.”

Chapter 20 – Not So Fast... (Part 2)

Adeline was surprised when she walked in to see that more people had shown up to the party. She was generally okay with small groups but it had surpassed her expectations, and she felt her social anxieties start to kick in.

She headed over to where the drinks were being served, intending to grab two drinks and hurry back out to the patio where not so many people were gathered. She had barely put in a request for her own glass of champagne when she felt a finger tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Joey as the bartender walked away thinking she was done ordering.

“Joey!” she said with a smile. “Hi, I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I stopped by and I saw you walking in and couldn't resist coming to say hi,” he said, smiling back. “Where's Lance?”

“He's outside,” she responded. “Getting a breath of fresh air.”

“Lots of people here. I didn't know that Joanna and Nick had this many friends.”

“Neither did I. Where's your wife?”

“Home with the girls,” he said. “I don't plan on staying long, I just stopped by because Joanna invited me. Speaking of wives, I heard about you and Lance.”

She smiled, catching a glance of her ring as she took the flute glass the bartender handed to her.

“Yeah,” she said. “But don't say anything about it, you know, until some time passes. It feels like all these people know and I'm not even leaving for Los Angeles for another couple days. I'm kind of panicked about it. But at least I'm not the only one feeling that way this time.”

“What do you mean?” Joey said.

“The crowd isn't what has Lance freaked out. I don't know, it kind of seems like he got smacked with a big dose of reality today. He's acting sort of strange.”

As people surrounded them, Joey looked around him and then back to her.

“You want to go talk somewhere more private?” he asked.

“You have no idea,” she responded with a chuckle as she walked off behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He could feel his eyes open as wide as they could when he turned around and saw her.

“Hi, Lance,” she said, smiling. “It's been a long time.”

She looked exactly the same as she had when she had walked out of his life – straight blonde hair past her shoulders, long and slender legs, and wild blue-gray eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, suddenly finding himself standing up from his chair.

“I got back into New York two days ago,” she said. “I went to your apartment to find you but you weren't there.”

She stared at him, expecting him to speak, but words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

“I ran into Mrs. Goodwin at the elevator as I was leaving and she told me you were here,” she said. “She seemed surprised to see me.”

“Well yeah, Kenz,” he said, thinking of his sweet and aging neighbor. “She hasn't seen you in over a year. She knows you moved.”

“Well, I'm back,” Mackenzie said. “I wanted to see you and tell you personally, so you didn't hear it from someone else.”

“How courteous of you,” he said, starting to feel emotions he hadn't felt in months. “How did you get into the party?”

“I sort of snuck in. I assumed that Joanna probably wouldn't let me in willingly.”

“You're probably right, and I don't think Nick would be too happy to know you snuck in either,” he said. “Why are you even here?”

“I missed New York,” she said. “I missed you.”

“You left, Mackenzie,” he said.

“I came back,” she countered.

“You left! You packed your stuff up in a couple of bags, walked out of the house and moved to Germany. You left the rest of your stuff for me to get rid of. You left me to cancel all the wedding plans, tell our friends and family that it was over...now you want points because you came back?”

She sighed.

“It's not going to happen, Kenz,” he said. “Besides, I have a girlfriend. I fell in love with someone else.”

“Yeah, I saw her,” she said. “Talking with Joey. A married woman, Lance? Really?”

“That's none of your business,” he said. “You're overstepping your boundaries, Mackenzie.”

“I didn't think you were that into infidelity,” she said. “What a surprise. You think you know someone, right?”

“This is over.”

He started walking toward the patio door with the intention of going back inside to find Adeline, until she grabbed his arm.

“Lance, wait,” she said. “I'm sorry, okay?”

He stopped, even though he knew he should keep going.

“I came back thinking we could give this another chance. I'm a little surprised to find out that you're with someone else, that's all. Surprised, and a little jealous.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me,” he responded.

She smiled. “That's you, isn't it? When real emotions are too hard to face, you resort to sarcasm and personal insults.”

“Yeah, I'm an ass to people's faces – you just run, don't you?”

“Don't talk too loud, sweetheart,” she said. “Isn't that what your girlfriend is known for, too? She's the one who ran off to New York when things with her husband weren't going so well.”

“You don't know anything about Addy,” he said.

“I know enough to know that they're on the verge of divorce,” she said. “From the way that diamond on her left finger looked, I'd say I know the reason why.”

“Now I'm done,” he said.

“With me, it'd be easy.”

He had started storming off and she let him get a couple feet from the door this time, waiting until he had stopped.

“You wouldn't have to sneak around to avoid cameras – play by someone else's rules on what you can and can't do in public or release to the media. You wouldn't have to wait until papers are filed and a court tells you that it can finally officially happen. There's no baggage to weigh you down.”

“Maybe I'm not looking for easy,” he said, contemplating whether to reach for the door.

“Isn't it going to get tiring, Lance? Doing things on her terms, having to hold back how much you love her and care for her because she's still technically attached to someone else? You know she's going to make you play this game of charades until the divorce is finalized. She cares far too much about her job and her appearance to let anyone find out she was carrying on an affair while she was married.”

“I can wait,” he said. “That's what you do for someone when you love them. You wait – and keep waiting, even if they're in fucking Germany for a year.”

“And you got tired and moved on, didn't you?”

By then, he was almost seething. Her unexpected appearance after being gone so long had angered him – her attitude had made it worse.

But he couldn't walk away; he couldn't leave because on some level, he knew she was right.

“You're not going to reel me back in by playing on my emotions, Mackenzie,” he said, turning around to face her. “This jealous ex-girlfriend thing isn't going to work on me. We were great together, but our relationship ran its course. You left for Germany and I moved on. I can deal with Addy's baggage because it's what has made her strong, and her strength is one of the things I love about her. So you can step right up and move your way back out this door – because I've made my decision to make a life with Adeline and you're not going to change that.”

She was silent for a moment. He noticed her eyes change – they were almost sad.

“That's too bad,” she finally said. “I know how important getting married and having kids is to you. It's too bad she's proven that she only fails at both so far.”

For a moment, he got angry again, but then he pushed it aside.

“That's not going to work either,” he said. “I've already accepted that.”

“Have you?” she asked. “Have you accepted the fact that she'll never be able to give you the life you had always hoped for?”

“There are other ways to have children, Kenz,” he said. “Never doesn't mean never anymore.”

“Oh, honey. You can't see the future past your hopes and dreams. She's too traumatized. It'll never happen.”

She looked him in the eyes as she walked toward him.

“You'll tell each other that you can try IVF,” she said. “If that doesn't work, you'll think about surrogacy or adoption – but she can barely handle the mention of children. The idea of having a child around to remind her of what she's lost is far too painful. In ten years, it will still be the two of you. There will be no little feet running around the house keeping the two of you busy.”

Even though he was angry and wanted to walk away, he was frozen by sadness.

“You have to stop lying to yourself, Lance,” she said. “You'll only end up hurting both of you.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last place Adeline had expected to find herself tonight was in Joey's arms. But they had been talking a few moments and he smirked and held his hand out to her, saying, “I would never touch my best friend's lady, but surely one dance couldn't hurt?”

She smiled. “Surely not.”

She knew Joey well enough to know that married or not, Adeline was a young, beautiful woman that he was going to flirt with. Like he had at Lance's Halloween party not too long ago, he would get in a couple winks, possibly make a couple of suggestive comments that would make her blush and giggle, and go home to his wife and daughters. As bad as it all seemed, it was always totally harmless.

When he put his arm around her waist lightly, she wasn't surprised.

“Hands where I can see them, young man,” she joked, adding in a playful smile.

“Well, that's no fun,” Joey responded with a grin.

He kept his arm around her waist, but didn't pull her closer to him, keeping a safe distance between the two of them as they slow danced.

“Would it hurt your feelings if I told you that when you first showed up, I wasn't sure of you?” Joey asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn't sure of your motives,” he said. “A woman who moves across the country on a whim, away from a wealthy and by all appearances satisfying marriage, to take a job with a guy like Lance? It was a little suspicious.”

She laughed. “I've been called many things, Joey, but never suspicious. Like I told Lance, I didn't take the job because of money. Truthfully, I work because I love my job, not because I need money. My husband makes money – and he's got the ego to prove it.”

“So Lance tells me,” Joey responded.

“I guess that as much as I hide from chaos, I gravitate towards it. I was warned about the challenge that Lance would be before I moved here, and I still took the job. Maybe I should seek professional help for that.”

Joey laughed. “But look at what you've done for him. I haven't seen him like this in a year. He's starting to remind me of his old self again. I think it's a little crazy for you to think about getting married, I mean you have so much going on already, but you're both happy.”

“Do you really think Lance is happy?”

Her confidence was shaky along with her voice.

“You don't think he is?” Joey asked her.

“I don't know what to think. Since Joanna's wedding, everything has been so weird. I think he's getting cold feet. Maybe you're right, I have so much going on already.”

“Did he specifically say that he didn't want to get married?” Joey asked.

“Well, no,” she said. “In fact, while we were outside, he said that he still wanted to marry me...”

“There you go.”

“No matter what happens, Joey,” she said. “That's what he said. He said he still wanted to marry me and he always would, 'no matter what happens.' Then he said it was all moving so fast. Analyze that.”

“Maybe you should seek professional help, you do seem to seek out chaos,” Joey said.

She smiled and as the song ended, they separated.

“I don't think he's getting cold feet,” Joey said. “I think he's like you – overwhelmed. Lance has a questionable attitude at times but one thing I know is that he's an honest guy, and it has to be driving him nuts thinking about what he's doing and how it goes against his morals. Never in his life would he have imagined that he'd break up a marriage.”

“He didn't break us up,” she said. “We were broken a long time ago. He just made me wake up and realize that.”

“Then make him wake up and realize it himself. He loves you, Addy, I know that for sure. When you love someone, you only want what is best for them. You only want to see them happy, even if that means you have to suffer for the rest of your life. If it's him you want and not your husband, you need to make sure he knows that.”

“Who knew you were so good with love advice?” Adeline asked with a grin.

“Not so much love advice, maybe Lance advice,” Joey said. “Sometimes I think I could tell you what he's thinking while he's sleeping.”

“That's a little scary,” she said with a laugh.

“I've known him a long time,” he said as they walked back over to grab their drinks from a table. “After all, we were both teenagers when the group started. We traveled overseas together, lived on a tour bus with each other. You learn personal things, interesting things, things you don't even want to know...”

“I know,” she said. “And that's why I have a bit of a presumptuous question to ask you.”

“What's that?”

“I know that you and I aren't that close, but you're Lance's best friend. You're important to him, so you're important to me,” she said. “I don't have any close male influences in my life besides you two. I know he's probably going to ask you to be his best man, but I would love it if you would...walk me down the aisle instead.”

He almost choked on the drink he was taking when he heard her say it.

“I'm sorry, what?” he asked.

“Well, my father is gone,” she said, suddenly nervous that she had taken him by surprise. “My mom is too, and I'm an only child so I don't have any brothers to give me away. I don't have any other family or close male friends. You mean a lot to me. It seemed appropriate.”

“Are you sure you want me?” he asked.

“I can't think of a better man to ask,” she said.

When he smiled, she relaxed.

“I'd be honored,” he said.

She smiled, happy that he had taken well to her request.

“Crap,” she said, suddenly remembering why she was inside in the first place. “I left Lance outside in the cold like twenty minutes ago. I told him I would bring us drinks. I hate to dance and run, Joey...”

“Go,” he said. “It's almost time to ring in a brand new year. I think that's something you need, Addy – a fresh start.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Joey.”

“You're welcome, beautiful,” he said with a smile.

She parted ways with Joey, with a renewed sense of security in her decision. When Joey put it the way he did, she could understand and relate to Lance's sudden insecurities. While she loved him and knew she wanted to be with him, it had made her feel awful to carry on their relationship in this way.

That was why she was now, more than ever, absolutely sure of her decision to board a plane in two days. She had traveled to New York searching for answers to her life, and she had gotten them.

She weaved through Joanna's crowd of guests, who were all energizing themselves waiting for the big ball drop that would happen soon. Last year at this time, she had been in her Los Angeles home sitting on the couch with a blanket, watching the ball drop on the television, alone once again. She didn't miss that tonight.

Joey was right; she needed a fresh start.

She finally made it to the bar to get two new drinks. She was stopped once by Joanna while heading towards the patio, but with so many guests Joanna only lingered a moment. She couldn't stop the smile on her face as Joanna left her to attend to the party once again.

When she saw the two silhouettes in the light coming from the pool, she stopped a moment to process exactly what she was seeing. The female face was only vaguely familiar to her because she had been in the entertainment industry for several years; she wouldn't be able to place the woman if she walked past her on the street, but the minute she saw them lock lips, she knew exactly who it was.

Mackenzie Montgomery.

Chapter 21 – Run

Run, Addy.

Her subconscious immediately started screaming at her as her heart tried to process the shock. Her feet were slowly moving by themselves, taking steps backwards.

Run.

Before she knew it, that was exactly what she started to do – turn around and walk away quickly, setting the drinks she had been holding down on a counter. She ran to grab her coat and purse where Nick had taken them when they had arrived at the party, and as she walked into the living room to head to the door, she eyed Joey.

Slinging her coat over her arm, she walked over to him and gently grabbed his arm to get his attention.

“Addy,” he said as he turned around towards her. “Weren't you supposed to go back outside to Lance?”

“Yeah, about that,” she said. “Something came up, I have an emergency. If you see Joanna or Nick, can you tell them I had to leave and I'm so sorry I didn't say goodbye?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Emergency? What emergency? Is everything okay?”

“No, it'll be fine,” she said hurriedly. She had no time to think through her lie. “I just have to go.”

“Wait, isn't Lance going with you?”

“No, Joey, he's not,” she responded. “He doesn't even know I'm leaving – and if he asks you, this conversation never happened.”

“Adeline, what the hell is going on?” Joey asked, feeling frantic. “What happened?”

“Why don't you ask him?”

Adeline started walking toward the door, until Joey grabbed her arm to stop her.

“No, that won't do,” he said, pulling her back towards him. “Don't you run from me without telling me what is going on and why you expect me to lie to my best friend and your fiance.”

“Joey, if you love me...you'll let me leave.”

She hated to throw his own advice back in his face, but she was still satisfied when he let go of her arm.

“Just don't tell Lance about this,” she said as she grasped her purse tightly and walked off toward the door, leaving him speechless.

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Lance was stunned silent. He had been talking with Mackenzie innocently, despite her odd behavior and the way she had cornered him. In fact, for a few minutes, he would even say they started to get along – but that was before she had reached up and grabbed him, pulling him into a kiss.

He had tried to push her away – a part of him didn't want to, but she had such a grip on him that the other part that did want to couldn't manage to push her away from his body. When he finally did manage to, both of them stood staring at each other, frozen.

“What the hell is your motive, Kenzie?” he asked. “You don't want me, but nobody else can have me?”

“I do want you,” she said. “That's why I came back. I want to get back together.”

“Yeah, insulting my girlfriend, assaulting me, and generally acting like a psychotic bitch is the perfect way to accomplish that,” he said. “I'm sorry, Kenz – I'm sorry that things ended the way that they did with us, but I've moved on. For a second, I really thought that we could move past this...craziness, and be friends. But I realize now that's a bad idea. Someone will get end up getting hurt. And to be honest, I don't want that to be Addy. It would break my heart.”

“You're making a big mistake, Lance,” she said as he started walking away. “She'll never be able to give you what you want. You'll never be able to live the life you want with her.”

“Yeah,” he said, turning around to face her one last time. “But you want to know something, Mackenzie? You made a big mistake when you left me last year to move to Germany. That was a mistake you thought you had to make, and you were right. We're both better off without each other, I think. Even if I'm making a mistake by marrying Addy – it's a mistake I have to make.”

Before she could say another word, he opened the patio door and closed it quickly. Finally inside, the warmth from the house hit him and he finally realized how long he had been outside and how cold it was. He shivered as he felt the goosebumps on his skin.

“There you are,” Joanna said as she walked into the kitchen. “I've been looking for you for half an hour. Where the hell have you been?”

“Outside.”

“All this time?” she said, surprised. “It's freezing out there, what have you been doing?”

“Dealing with an overload of batshit crazy,” he said. “Who was drunk enough to let Mackenzie into the party?”

“Mackenzie?” Joanna exclaimed. “Nobody let Mackenzie into the party. I don't want that crazy bitch coming anywhere near me or my house, Lance.”

“Looks like you need to get a security system, then – or a dog,” he said. “Because she's out there.”

“She must have snuck in behind someone else. Nick might have let her in, I don't think he's ever met her. Damn it.”

Joanna walked to the patio door with zest, opened the door and turned on the porch light from inside, popping her head outside to look around. She quickly came back inside and shut the door.

“Are you sure you're not hallucinating?” she said. “There's nobody out there.”

“No, she was definitely there, every deranged part of her. She must have decided to leave because she didn't get what she wanted.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted to get back together,” he said.

“God, you dodged a bullet with her,” Joanna responded. “I know you were hurt at first so I didn't say anything, but Lance, she's a lunatic.”

“Yeah, thanks for being such a great friend and warning me before I was going to marry her,” he said sarcastically.

“Wait – how does she know where I live?”

The question hadn't crossed his mind, and he paused to think about it.

“Did you tell her?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “This is the first time I've talked to her since she left the apartment.”

Joanna felt an uneasiness come over her stomach.

“Have you seen Addy?” he asked. “She was with me a while ago but I haven't seen her since then. It's been a while.”

“I stopped to talk to her for a minute, then I saw her talking to Joey,” Joanna said. “That was a few minutes ago. I haven't seen her since then.”

He walked off to find Adeline without another word to Joanna. There were a lot more people in the house than when they had arrived, so he searched through the crowd. It took a couple of glances, but he finally saw Joey by the front door with a couple of people he didn't know.

He walked through people and up to Joey, tapping him on the shoulder.

“Hey, is Addy still with you?”

Joey gave him an unsettling look.

“No, she's not,” he responded.

“Do you know where she went? I'm looking for her.”

Joey shifted his weight and briefly looked away.

“Joey?” Lance said, sensing his uncomfort.

“She left,” Joey said. “I wasn't supposed to tell you, but she was upset and I'm worried about her.”

“What do you mean she was upset? About what?”

“I don't know,” he said with a shrug. “She said to ask you. What happened?”

A feeling of dread overtook Lance, and he sighed.

“Shit, she saw Mackenzie,” he whispered.

“Mackenzie?” Joey exclaimed. “Mackenzie was here?”

“She snuck in,” Lance said. “Showed up to cause trouble. Addy must have seen her come in and it upset her. Did she say where she was going?”

“Not a word,” Joey said. “She said she had an emergency and she had to leave. She looked totally freaked out.”

“I have to go find her,” Lance said, walking off to grab his coat with Joey following. “She doesn't do well in large groups; she might have panicked and taken off.”

“I don't think so,” Joey said. “It sounded like she was upset at you. What happened with Mackenzie?”

Lance stopped to grab his coat and turned around to face Joey.

“She kissed me,” he said in a low voice.

“Lance,” Joey groaned.

“I have to find her,” Lance said, realizing that if he didn't walk away, Joey would stop to lecture him. “Tell Joanna I had to leave.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lance wasn't surprised that he hit New Year's Eve traffic on his way home. He had tried many times while he was behind the wheel waiting to call her cell phone, but every time he only reached her voicemail. He couldn't be sure she had gone back to his apartment, or that she was even upset at him and ignoring his calls.

He also couldn't be sure she had actually seen Mackenzie, because no one else seemed to. He tried to let himself believe that she had been overwhelmed by the amount of people at the party, had gotten tired and was now at home sleeping and didn't hear her phone. He hoped she hadn't gone back to her own apartment, because he couldn't imagine driving there as well to check on her.

By the time he reached his own apartment building and rode up the elevator, he was too tired to consider it. If she wasn't here, he had no choice but to collapse in his own bed and plan to look for her in the morning – and hope she was okay, in the meantime.

The minute he opened the door and saw her sitting on the couch with one lamp in the living room on, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank God you're home,” he said. “I couldn't find you anywhere. You wouldn't answer your phone. You had me worried, Addy.”

She said nothing, but he could see she was biting her lip.

“Are you as done with tonight as I am?” he asked as he walked through the entryway and straight to the kitchen. He threw his keys on his table and went straight to the fridge to grab a beer. “How about a movie or something? Hey, let's put in Star Wars. That way neither of us will be upset if we fall asleep half...”

He had walked into the living room and was stopped in his tracks when he saw two suitcases sitting beside her, in front of her feet.

“You've packed for Los Angeles already?” he asked, hoping he would get the right answer.

“No,” she whispered. It was only then that he noticed she had a steady stream of tears running down her cheeks.

They were both silent for a moment, and she wiped away tears with a heavy hand.

“I saw you kiss her,” she finally said, barely above a whisper. “Through the glass.”

He closed his eyes and silently sighed, the sense of dread coming back.

“Adeline, you didn't see what you think you did,” he said.

“I saw your lips on hers,” she said, more tears falling. “What else do I need to see?”

“The whole story,” he said softly. “She kissed me. It wasn't the other way around.”

“Does it matter which way it went?” she asked, her voice getting louder. She finally looked up and her red eyes connected with his. “The end result was the same – the two of you together.”

“But it wasn't like that.”

“I don't care what it was like!” she screamed, suddenly standing up from the couch. “I put all my trust in you when I didn't have much left to begin with. And you took it all and threw it away, and now you're trying to convince me that it wasn't like that? What was it like then? Why should I overlook what I saw because you say my eyes are deceiving me?”

“I'll admit that you saw what you saw,” he said. “It happened, but it didn't happen like you think it did.”

“It still happened,” she said. “And I'm walking out of a marriage with a cheater already; I refuse to walk into another one.”

“What are you planning to do?” he asked, looking at her then at the suitcases. “Leave?”

“That's exactly what I'm planning to do.”

The stone-cold, tearful look she gave him made his stomach fall to his feet.

“You were right, Lance,” she said. “I don't want to resent you in a year when I decide this isn't what I wanted.”

“Can you at least give me a chance to explain?” he asked.

“Explain what?” she asked as she pulled up the handle on her rolling suitcase. “That she's just a friend that happened to kiss you? It was completely innocent? That's what my husband said. Is that how it went?”

He stayed silent, only looking into her eyes.

“That's what I thought,” she said.

She pulled on her suitcase as she started to walk away from him, but he grabbed her wrist.

“Ad, please don't walk away from me.”

“Don't call me Ad.”

The familiar tone in her voice from months before, when they didn't get along, came back at him, biting.

“You can't up and walk away,” he said, regretting what he was about to bring up already. “You're my employee.”

“And that's why I quit,” she snapped at him, pulling her wrist from his grasp.

As she rolled her suitcase towards the door, he tried to think of all the ways he could make her stay. As he had last year when he had been in the same situation, he came up empty.

“Adeline, please don't leave,” he said, trying not to beg, walking after her as she crossed into the entryway out of his sight. “Let me talk to you.”

With her hand on the doorknob, she stopped and turned to him.

“I let you see a part of me that I don't let anyone else see,” she said quietly. “I let down my guard and let you in. I trusted that you wouldn't hurt me – and you did.”

She looked down at her suitcase, second guessing her decision, but quickly pushed the thoughts away.

“I won't make that mistake again,” she said. “Goodbye, Lance.”

She inhaled a breath of air and before he could stop her again, she opened the door and pulled her suitcase along with her. She avoided looking behind her as she closed the door on him, fearing that he would see the tears that had started rolling uninhibited down her cheeks.

She walked quickly down the hall towards the elevator, knowing if she could make it there before she broke down, she would be safe. The walk felt longer than it even had the first day she had walked into this building, and when she finally made it into the elevator, she sat down in the corner as it finally took her over.

This is for the best, she thought as she sobbed. If he hurt you now, he would hurt you again later. They all do. Marc did in the beginning, Lance would too...it's for the best.

It was hard for her to believe that as much as he had tried to convince her that her husband was a cheater, he had ended up doing the same thing. Not only was it contradictory to the way she thought he felt about her, it was uncharacteristic to the personality he had shown her while she had worked with him. As Stephanie had told her, he wasn't perfect and he had definite flaws, but fidelity was a positive characteristic she thought he had.

I guess I was wrong again, she thought. And at least I know now. It's for the best.

She was still sobbing in the corner when the elevator stopped and the doors opened to let someone on. She lifted her head from her hands to look up, and saw the business man, dressed down more casually with a professional camera around his neck, step onto the elevator.

She only briefly looked at him, turning her head away and trying to collect herself so he didn't see how awful she assumed she looked – but his eyes remained on her.

“Are you okay?” he suddenly asked as the elevator resumed moving.

She looked up without thinking. “I'm fine,” she said quietly. “I've had a bad night.”

“Break up with your boyfriend?” he said.

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, surprised that he could read her so well. “He apparently wanted to be with his ex more than he did me.”

He whistled. “That's bad. I'm sorry.”

She swallowed, feeling more tears threatening to fall.

“Guys like that,” he continued, “they're bad news anyway. You don't want to spend the rest of your life with someone like that.”

“I wish I could tell my heart that,” she said.

“You'll be able to eventually,” he said. “Trust me. In a few months, you'll look back on this and realize that it was for the best and you made the right decision. You'll move on and realize you're better off. You'll be okay, Addy.”

Suddenly, her head snapped up.

“How do you know my name?”

Before he could answer, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. As he stepped out of the door into the lobby, he looked down at her and simply smiled. Without a word, he walked away, leaving her behind.

An uneasy feeling hit her as she stood up and grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

How would he know my name? she asked herself. I've never introduced myself to him. Lance never introduced us. Come to think of it, he never saw me with Lance – how would he know I had a boyfriend?

The doors started to close on her and she reached out to stop them, grabbing her suitcase handle.

Stop, Addy, you're paranoid again, she thought as she gathered herself. You've been at this building every day for three months, a lot of Lance's neighbors know you, you've practically lived here for over a month. She inhaled a breath. But not anymore.

She pushed her uneasiness aside and stepped off the elevator, rolling her suitcase behind her, dreading walking out of the building for the very last time.

Chapter 22 – Shattered

For the first time ever that she could remember, Adeline wanted to throw her phone across the room and watch it shatter into a million pieces.

It had done nothing but ring in the two days since she had walked out of his apartment. Most of the calls were from Lance, of course; she had stopped counting after the tenth time he had called her. But the news had apparently spread and she was also getting calls from Joey, Joanna, and Jamie-Lynn now.

She refused to answer any of them. All they would try to do is convince her to go back and listen to him, and she knew she wouldn't do that. She had listened to all that she needed to the night that she had confronted him; she didn't need to hear whatever story he would concoct to lay blame on someone else other than him.

That's just like him, she thought as she shoved more clothes into a third suitcase. It can't be his own fault. The old Lance returns – or maybe he never left.

Her flight would leave in two hours, and even though she had grown to love New York and would miss it, she couldn't get on that plane soon enough.

Half an hour later, all four of her suitcases were neatly stacked upright by the door, her purse in her hand, her coat wrapped around her. She stood in front of her door with her sunglasses in hand and turned around to look at her apartment – the one that she had called home for the past three months. Even though she was leaving and planning on never coming back to stay, her apartment was far from empty. All her furniture stayed; most of her books, movies, and CDs remained in their shelves; she had considered packing her pictures, but she didn't have room in her suitcase once it was packed full of her clothes and necessities she couldn't leave behind.

She had no time this trip to arrange for all her stuff to be packed neatly in boxes and sent across the country to be waiting for her. Most of it was superficial anyway, as she had furniture and a stack of books and movies already in her LA home. Eventually, she would return to pack all of her stuff and have it moved back for her, arrange for her lease to be broken or at least find a sublet, and clean up her second life in New York, but she had no time or courage for that now.

She couldn't stay in this apartment – or New York – one more day.

She felt the sinking feeling again, that feeling she got before she started crying. When she felt the tears in her eyes, she situated her sunglasses over her eyes.

“Goodbye, New York,” she whispered into the silence. “Goodbye, Lance.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was stuck in slowly-moving mid-afternoon traffic when her phone rang for the fifth time; Lance had called twice, Joanna had also called twice, and Joey had called once. She dreaded checking her voicemail, as she hadn't checked it since before the New Year's party, and she knew it had to be almost full by now with their messages.

She audibly and loudly groaned as she reached into the car's drink holder to grab her phone and look at the ID. She expected it to be Joey or Lance, but was surprised when the ID said Stephanie instead.

“Hello?” she answered, her first time answering her phone in two days.

“I've gotten a lot of strange calls from Lance over the years,” Stephanie started. “I've gotten mid-evening 'I'm bored' calls that usually started out with a 'what are you wearing' joke. I've gotten panicked calls when he's deadlocked in traffic and going to be late for an important meeting. I think once, he even sleep-dialed me. But by far the strangest call I've ever gotten from him is the one I got half an hour ago, in which he tells me that you have not only left him, but that you suddenly quit and he has no idea if he's going to remember what he has to do today.”

Adeline, feeling the stress of the day build, pinched the bridge of her nose.

“His incompetence is not my problem anymore,” she said. “I sent him an email with a list of everything I had scheduled for the next three months. He could try checking his own email for once.”

“Addy, you know that's not why I'm calling,” Stephanie said, her voice laced with sadness. “Less than a week ago you were calling me, oozing this disgusting happiness because you had told him you would marry him. Now my phone won't stop ringing from people telling me that everything's falling apart. What happened?”

“Maybe you should ask him,” Adeline said.

“I don't care what he says,” Stephanie responded. “I know what he told me, which wasn't much – and with Lance, I can never be sure if I'm getting the whole story. I want to hear it from you; I can trust that you'll tell me the whole story, and most of it will probably be the truth.”

Adeline moved slowly along with traffic and took a deep breath, preparing for the conversation she had dreaded and hoping she wouldn't cry too much.

“Mackenzie came back into the picture,” she said.

“That basically says it all,” Stephanie said, and Adeline thought she detected a sigh. “How bad is this?”

“He kissed her,” Adeline said. “And I saw it.”

Stephanie audibly sighed this time. “Damn you, Lance.”

Adeline breathed in deeply and moved the car a couple more feet.

“Adeline, why are you leaving?” Stephanie asked.

The question almost shocked Adeline.

“It's not obvious?” she asked.

“No, to be honest, it's not. I don't understand you anymore. Your husband has been doing far worse than this for a long time – my gut has always said he's been doing this your entire relationship. He does it without shame, right in front of cameras, and blatantly lies about it when the proof is there. You believe him every time. One might think that after years of enduring it, you're fed up and won't stand for Lance to make a mistake like this, and after talking with Joanna and Joey that's what they believe – but they're not me, and I don't.”

Adeline swallowed; there was a drawback to having a friendship that had lasted since childhood – they knew you better than everyone else.

“You were looking for a reason to get out,” Stephanie said. “You're so damaged. Marc's a piece of crap so he doesn't deserve better – but of course, Lance is better than that so he deserves better than you. At least that's what you think.”

“I don't want to talk about this Steph,” Adeline said, feeling herself start to break down already.

“In no world does Lance deserve anyone better than you,” Stephanie continued, ignoring her insistence. “You're a gorgeous, smart, capable woman. You have the most beautiful soul of anyone I've ever known. There's a reason you're my best friend. I wade through clients' shit all day and by the time I get home I want to curl up on the couch and question why I chose this career. All I have to do is call you – you cheer me up, you make me laugh, and you understand this job and why it's so hard. And there are times when you hate me because let's face it – I'm a smart ass. I'm hard to love.”

Adeline laughed through tears. “You are.”

“But no matter how much you hate me in the moment, you always tell me you love me,” Stephanie said. “And you mean it. There are reasons I knew you two would be perfect for each other – and one of them is because you are two of the best people I know. You deserve each other. You're worthy, Addy. Why do you not believe that?”

“He deserves so much more than I can give him,” she responded quietly.

“You're not an empty vessel, Adeline,” Stephanie said. “Just because there are parts of you that may not do what God intended them to do, doesn't mean you're broken.”

Adeline finally broke down into a sob. As usual, Stephanie had read her like an open book.

“I don't know how much longer I can go on feeling like a useless woman,” she said. “Not only has my daughter been stolen from me, but so has my self-worth. I can do so many things; but the one thing that is supposed to be a God-given female right – I can't do that. Everything else is worthless. I'm worthless.”

“You're worth the world to me,” Stephanie said.

Stephanie was silent while Adeline cried for several moments. She didn't know what to say to her friend; she couldn't imagine the pain she was going through, and that was part of the problem – nobody around her could.

“I love you, Addy,” she finally said. “And I know he does, too.”

“I have a flight to catch,” Adeline said. “I can't do this right now.”

“When will you? When you're alone as usual in your big house, your husband is away with another woman saying that he's working, and you're so full of self-loathing that you don't even care anymore? At least stay in New York.”

“There's nothing left for me in New York.”

“He's there,” Stephanie said. “Give yourself some time. You can get past this. If you don't at least give this a chance, I have a feeling you'll regret it.”

Adeline tried to collect herself as much as she could as traffic started to move more quickly.

“Do you remember what you told me before I uprooted my entire life to move here?” Adeline asked.

“I told you I thought you needed this.”

“And you were right, I think I did,” Adeline said. “But you also told me that you had a feeling I wouldn't regret it.”

Stephanie was silent on the other end of the phone.

“You were wrong,” Adeline whispered.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She sighed as she laid her hand on the handle of the door. She was tired – it had been a long day full of tears and a long flight – but part of her also didn't want to walk inside the door. If she walked inside the door of this house in Los Angeles, that truly meant she had arrived and it was over; there would be no going back from this point.

She closed her eyes as she slowly turned the knob and opened the door, stepping inside without giving it a second thought. If she gave it a second thought, she would only hurt herself more.

She pulled each of her suitcases inside, stacking them by door. She threw her coat she was holding across her arm over the coat rack and threw her purse on top of her suitcases. She stretched her neck and felt the cool air of the air conditioner running in the house, immediately thinking it was odd that Marc would leave it to run while he went out of town for an extended period of time.

She turned on the floor lamp over a chair to bring some light into the room and once she could see where she was walking, she made her way over to the wall where the thermostat was to turn down the air. It would take her a few weeks to acclimate herself to California's warmer winters again. Pushing the button to turn it up to a reasonable 80 degrees, she closed the latch as she heard a soft thud coming from upstairs.

The house had been dead silent when she walked in. She looked up the stairs warily; Marc was overseas working. He would have canceled housecleaning services for the next few weeks, as well. Besides, it was nearing ten at night and none of their maids would come this late.

She quickly reached over to the table next to a chair and grabbed the first heavy object she could – a solid glass candle holder. Fearing someone had broken into the house, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in 911 in case she was right and was caught off guard, before she started walking slowly upstairs.

The closer she got, the more small noises she could hear – repeated thuds, like footsteps on the hardwood floors. She thought she could hear voices, but after the day she'd had and as tired as she was, she couldn't be sure she wasn't hearing things that weren't there. She walked down the hall as the sounds continued, lowering the candle holder down a bit as she reached her bedroom door. As she turned the knob and heard a female talking, she knew already what she was going to walk into.

They were both taken by surprise when the door slammed against the wall, suddenly reaching for sheets and blankets to cover their naked bodies. The female's jaw dropped and she audibly gasped, while Marc froze in his place in the bed.

“Adeline,” he said, shocked.

“You bastard,” she said, surprised that her mouth formed words, because the rest of her was suspended.

“What are you doing home?” he asked.

“What are you doing home?” she yelled. “Paris, my ass!”

“Adeline--”

“No!” she yelled forcefully. “No! The whole time you've lied to me. I was stupid enough to believe it. Who's this one, Marc? President of your fan club?”

“My new assistant,” he said, quietly but confidently.

Adeline felt herself break into an angry smile, then an uncontrollable chuckle.

“Is that right?” she asked.

“That's right,” he said with a smile. “Two can play the game, Addy.”

The message he was sending was not lost on her – he knew.

She turned to the female, staring the red-head down wishing her eyes were daggers, and pointed the candle holder at her.

“You, get out.”

At first, the girl only stared, seemingly too panicked to move. After a few moments, she regained herself and started picking up clothes off the floor, in a rush to leave.

“Get out,” Adeline said once more, more forcefully.

As the girl gathered her things and tried to keep herself covered with the sheet, Adeline put herself in her place – if her relationship with Lance had been turned around and she had been the other woman, getting caught in this situation, she would have been horrified and humiliated like this woman surely was. At the brief thought of him, Adeline felt her anger boil again.

“Get out!” she finally yelled.

The girl grabbed the rest of her stuff and ran out of the room without muttering a single word. She turned to Marc, who had stood up out of the bed.

“You too,” she said, pointing the holder towards him this time.

“You're going to kick me out of my own house?”

“Hell yes I am,” she responded. “Get out.”

“This isn't over, Addy,” he said as he pulled on clothes quickly.

She twirled the candle holder in her hand, considering violence. “Get out.”

“I'll get the house, the cars...”

“Get out,” she said.

“You'll be left with nothing. Not a cent.”

“Get out.”

“And you don't even have him anymore to pick you up when you fall down.”

Adeline reached her breaking point. She threw the glass candle holder across the room, barely missing his head, and it crashed against the wall, splintering into a million pieces.

“Get out!” she yelled at him.

The heavy object flying past his head took him by surprise, but the shock didn't last long. He reached down to the floor to grab his shirt, and before she knew it, he had walked out of the room.

A few minutes later she heard the front door of the house slam and his car's engine turn over. She tried to catch her breath and compose herself, but all she wanted to do was throw something. It had felt good – releasing it from her hand, seeing it fly across the room, and hearing the glass shatter against the wall. It was a small comfort to how she felt, the shards of glass exploding like she was exploding inside.

She didn't even realize her feet were carrying her to his office until she reached the door and opened it. His office – his safe haven. He always kept it neat and tidy, because he worked better that way, like she did.

“A place for everything and everything in its place,” she said, repeating her grandmother's mantra as she picked up an antique blue glass vase off his desk.

It was the first thing to go. It flew across the room, hitting the door with a satisfactory crash, scattering large and small blue pieces all over the floor. The next thing to go was an even heavier glass paperweight. It didn't break against the wall, but it made such a loud noise when it hit that it only spurred her to try harder. She tossed tidy stacks of paper off his desk onto the floor, overturned a pencil holder, and smashed picture frames by hitting them across the edge of the desk. The destruction felt good; it made her feel alive again.

As she walked to different parts of the room to destroy more stuff, she didn't even care if she stepped on glass or slipped on stray papers across the hardwood floor – her heart was pumping, adrenaline flowing through her, and she felt amazing.

She walked to a series of cabinets and opened the doors one-by-one, pulling out small organized boxes stashed in them, letting them fall to the floor and scatter their contents across the floor. As she went along, each door opened and whatever was inside of it fell to the floor, a comparison to how she felt today – like her insides had been ripped out.

By the time she reached the desk, she was crying again. Hot tears fell down her cheeks as she pulled out drawers and dumped them as well. She stepped on pencils and almost fell a couple of times; she heard pieces of glass crack underneath her shoes. She reached the last drawer, a file folder sized drawer, and expecting to find manila-colored file folders to throw across the room, she was instead surprised to find a cardboard box placed inside.

Suddenly curious, she removed the box and placed it on top of the desk that she had efficiently cleared. When she took off the lid, she didn't know what she expected to find – more papers for her to throw across the room, she guessed. But the first thing she saw was a large yellow mailing envelope. She turned it over in her hand, opening the flap and reaching inside. When she pulled out the face-up pictures and caught a glance at them, she audibly gasped.

She recognized it immediately – Coney Island. She could see her own face, a side profile of Lance, while they were at the gun booth. Her old brunette hair flying in the light wind that day, smiling of course. It was a perfect photo of him as he aimed the gun at his target. His smile got to her for a moment, but she forced herself to flip to a new picture.

There were several pictures from Coney Island, far away and close-up, before she finally reached other pictures – pictures from the golf game they had played together, various trips to the coffee shop alone and together, even pictures from the parking lot the day his tires had been stolen. She found pictures from outside the club the night he had convinced her to go out, even if they were shoddy pictures using no flash – the things that had been captured, things she remembered perfectly, said everything.

She flipped through pictures more frantically – finding pictures from the Halloween party, the beach outside Coney Island, and finally, pictures from Joanna's wedding. Pictures of her and Lance that told the story as if it was a book – from beginning to end, the disdain for each other, through the first time they had kissed, until they were holding hands and embracing each other any time they had a moment.

She dropped the stack of pictures to the desk with a thud, and looking inside the box, she saw small items from Lance's apartment. A picture frame, including a picture of them, they hadn't noticed had gone missing; a book of Adeline's that she had left and thought she had lost; a bottle of her perfume that had disappeared. As she saw every new item, the shock value grew and the depth of her find sank in even more.

But when she reached the bottom of the box, she gasped again. She reached in and pulled out the soft, dark purple blob. Grasping a corner in each hand, she spread it apart in front of her.

It was her grandmother's shawl that had been missing since the wedding, in perfect condition. Not a bead or a stitch was out of place. It was as if she had carefully placed it in the box herself, like she would her drawer.

She looked at the pile of evidence on the desk. She never would have found this if her destructive nature hadn't taken over; in the following days, he would surely come back to the house to get his things, taking the box with him or destroying its contents. And the divorce – he wasn't stupid enough to not use the pictures to make her look bad, to gain an advantage. That was the kind of person he was.

She'd always had a feeling that somehow, he knew what was going on all along. She hadn't known how far he would go; how far he was capable of taking it.

She turned away from the desk and looked at the reach of her destructive breakdown. The magnitude of what he had done to her and how he had changed her as a person hit her. She stepped away from the desk, the glass pieces popping under her feet, and walked over the mess of papers and broken items towards the door.

She needed sleep. Maybe a glass of wine before that. She needed to forget this day.

Chapter 23 – Love Somebody

New York – A Week Later

Lance sat on the small balcony outside of his apartment, staring at the city skyline. It looked like a painting – buildings were nothing but a black silhouette, with the sky as the real focus, stroked with various colors of blue, pink, orange, and almost purple. Sitting here in the relative quiet despite the noises of traffic, with his coffee and the cold morning air, it would have been the perfect morning to spend with her.

But she wasn't here, and it was his fault. She had been gone a week and despite what she probably thought, he couldn't stop blaming himself.

She hadn't answered her phone, but that didn't mean he didn't keep calling. After a couple days, she apparently turned her phone off entirely. He had left a dozen voicemails for her, begging her to at least call him. He knew that if she would give him five minutes to tell her what happened, she wouldn't hurt so bad.

That was all he wanted, for her to hear his side of the story – for her own sake, not his. He wanted her to feel better, to be able to move on. If that's what she wanted, that is.

It wasn't what he wanted, though.

He sighed and leaned back against the railing, craning his neck. He was exhausted. He had tried to sleep, but the bed felt so empty and it made no sense. Up until two months ago, he had slept in an empty bed every night for a year. He wasn't a dependent person; he got along fine by himself.

It was all these women in his life. They loved him and made him fall for them, then they left him. They wouldn't text or call him back. Adeline had come into his life like a tornado, and this was the destruction she had left behind her.

He was about to fall asleep against the railing when his phone rang and startled him. He rushed to pick it up in case it was her – but was only disappointed when he saw Joey's name across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Are you ever going to leave your self-imposed jail cell?” Joey asked.

“I did leave it,” Lance responded. “I'm outside right now, sitting on the balcony.”

“That's not leaving,” Joey said. “Even prisoners get yard time every now and then. You need to carry your ass inside, take a shower and get dressed, open your door, get in your car, turn the ignition and go do something.”

“Joey, I have nothing to do. I canceled all the appointments that I had. There's no point in going out to do nothing. I'm fine here.”

“You're reverting,” Joey said. “You're reverting back to exactly the same person you were when Mackenzie broke up with you. For God's sake Lance, you have to stop this.”

Lance sighed again. All week long, Joey, Joanna and Jamie-Lynn had been calling him to check up on him. They had been trying to get him out of his house or to socialize with them, fearful that he would lock himself up again. Maybe that was exactly what he was doing – but he didn't feel like having company. He didn't feel like having to pretend he was okay for them so they wouldn't coddle him.

“Joey, I'm not reverting. I swear. I don't feel like going out. I don't want to go somewhere just to give myself something to do; I can be bored in the comfort of my own home.”

“Come to breakfast with me or something,” Joey said. “We'll go for breakfast, we can go see a movie, go play basketball...something to get you out of the house. What do you say?”

“If I agree to go with you to breakfast, will you get off my back?” Lance said.

“Breakfast and basketball,” Joey said.

“I'm terrible at basketball. How is that going to help?”

“Well, I was going to surprise you and let you win but now you've ruined that,” Joey said. He wanted his friend to laugh, but he only got silence in return. “So, I'll whoop your ass. Then I'll beat you at basketball, too.”

Despite trying not to, Lance chuckled. “Yeah, that really tempts me to go with you.”

“I'll buy you French toast,” Joey said in a sing-song voice.

Lance groaned, swiping his hand down his face. Any time one of the other guys wanted him to do something, they tried to bribe him with French toast because it was always what he said his favorite food was in the magazines. He didn't think it was that great, but by now it had become a running joke.

“Fine,” Lance said with a sigh, giving in since the sun was coming up and starting to hurt his eyes. “Breakfast and one game of basketball – then I'm coming home to take a nap, Joe.”

“At least it's something,” Joey said.

Lance met him at the diner they had agreed on an hour later and found him already sitting down with coffee. Both of them wore their sunglasses and baseball hats, keeping a low profile. It was an added bonus that with the sunglasses, Joey wouldn't be able to see his sleepless eyes, and with the hat, he wouldn't be able to see his messy hair.

Joey called the waitress over so they could order, and Lance ordered a large platter of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. He didn't think he could eat it all, but he hoped that ordering that amount of food would at least keep Joey from saying that he wasn't eating, either. If he wanted to say anything, Joey held back until a few minutes after their food arrived, making small talk instead.

“Have you heard from her?” Joey said quietly. He didn't make eye contact with Lance, instead immediately shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

“No,” Lance said. “She won't answer her phone.”

Joey was quiet for a few moments, most of it spent chewing and putting more food in his mouth. Lance picked at his food, occasionally taking a bite but feeling like he would throw up every time he swallowed.

“You could go to Los Angeles,” Joey finally said.

“And it starts,” Lance said with a smile. “I knew you couldn't go more than fifteen minutes.”

“I'm just saying,” Joey said. “She can ignore her phone as long as she can hold out. If you show up, she has to see you until you leave.”

“Or until she has me arrested for trespassing.”

“It's Los Angeles,” Joey said. “That gives you a good half an hour before the cops show up. Half an hour should be enough to tell her you're a moron.”

“Oh Joey, you don't have to be so nice to me,” Lance said sarcastically. “Besides, she already knows I'm a moron. That's what made her leave in the first place.”

Joey shrugged in agreement, shoveling more eggs into his mouth.

“I couldn't go to Los Angeles anyway. I don't know where she lives. My luck, her husband would be there and I'd leave in a body bag.”

“Doubtful. Her husband was never there for her before you came into the picture. You could probably walk right into her house and plant a flag claiming the place. Stephanie should know where she lives.”

“Stephanie will barely talk to me,” Lance said. “In a week, she's called me once, and that was to tell me to check my own damn email. When I asked if she had talked to Addy, she told me she had stuff to do and she couldn't talk.”

“You're in it with pretty much every woman in your life, aren't you?” Joey asked.

Lance turned up his nose to Joey in disapproval.

“Who can blame them, though,” he said. “I'd like to say it wasn't my fault but she wouldn't have left if she hadn't seen Kenzie kiss me. I feel played by my own life. I didn't kiss her, I didn't even want to kiss her – she took me by surprise. And I'm the one who's paying for it.”

“If Kenzie is the one who kissed you and not the other way around, why is Addy punishing you?”

“She doesn't know that's what happened,” he responded. “I was outside and she was inside. A twenty or thirty minute conversation that only left me angry at Kenzie, and that's the fifteen seconds that Addy had to walk into, of course.”

“Why didn't you tell her?” Joey asked.

“She wouldn't listen to me. She was so mad that she had her bags packed by the time I got home. It killed me to see her in tears because I hurt her, Joe.”

“Well, in her defense, you didn't leave her with a very sure feeling about this relationship that night.”

Joey went along continuing to eat, but Lance stopped with his fork in mid-air.

“Wait, what do you mean?” he asked. “She was having doubts?”

“Doubts that you put in her head, idiot,” Joey said, pointing his finger at Lance from across the table. “She was unsure whether you wanted to marry her. Telling her that maybe she feels forced to take off her wedding rings and in a year she might regret leaving her husband for you. When you've got the runaway bride walking down the aisle, you don't hand her the reigns to a horse and a one-way ticket out of the country, dude.”

“I didn't mean it like that. I didn't want her to feel pressured into marrying me because I tried too hard. I had no idea she felt that way.”

“You didn't give her a chance to tell you,” Joey said.

“So you talked to her about all this?” Lance asked. “And you didn't tell me?”

“We talked about all this that night, in fact.”

“It's nice to know that my fiancee talked to you more about our relationship than she did to me,” Lance said.

Joey detected a bite in Lance's tone.

“And let me guess,” he said with a chuckle, “you're mad at me for that? Because that's easier than admitting you were wrong again and you fucked up?”

“Why do you always have to call me out like that?” Lance asked.

“Because she did,” Joey responded. “Because she called you out when you screwed up, and you actually listened to her.”

Joey went on eating, but Lance sat his fork down and thought – specifically, about the time she had called him out on his poor attitude after he had Lisette stay the night at his house. She did call him out on his crap, constantly and consistently. She looked sweet and innocent, and she was, but her bite matched her bark. He had fallen in love with that.

“Go ahead and get mad at me,” Joey continued. “Maybe that will make you get your ass on a plane and go find her.”

Lance knew he was right. It was no one's fault but his own that Adeline had left. At any point during the chain of events that night, he could have made a different choice that would have changed everything. His own doubts about their relationship had gotten to him, and unknowingly, he had allowed them to dictate his fate.

“I gotta go,” he told Joey, pulling out his wallet and removing a twenty dollar bill, setting it in front of him.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Joey asked, surprised.

“I've got some thinking to do.”

Lance quickly put his wallet back in his pocket and exited the diner before Joey could say another word, leaving him partially dumbfounded.

“Idiot,” Joey said, shaking his head after his friend had left.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was almost dark by the time Lance got back to his apartment building. He had spent a long day walking around the park, thinking to himself. He would have stayed out longer, but it had started lightly snowing and by evening the snow had picked up.

He had forgotten gloves and a scarf at his apartment, and by the time the elevator carried him to his floor, he could feel the numbness in his fingers start to subside. Cupping his hands over his mouth one more time and blowing into them to release some heat, he reached his door and was about to reach for his keys.

“Lance.”

He heard the female voice from a bit down the hall, and he thought he might be hallucinating at first – it sounded like her. When he turned to see her, his heart fell.

“Kenzie,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” she asked. “I came to find you.”

“Wanted to screw up my next relationship before it even began?” he said jokingly, only half-amused.

“I deserved that,” she said with a smile. “I heard she went back to Los Angeles. Lance, I'm sorry.”

“Not half as sorry as I am.”

He put the key in the door and had the knob half-turned by the time she walked up to him.

“Can we talk? Please?”

He released his hand from the door to turn to her.

“Last time you wanted to 'talk', by the end of it I had your face pressed up against mine,” he said. “That's not talking.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You messed everything up for me, Kenz,” he said, looking her in her eyes. “Addy left, she won't talk to me or answer my phone calls, return my texts, I don't even know if she's coming back.”

“She was married. It was wrong.”

He smiled. “Oh, okay. Because kissing a guy you knew was engaged isn't. I got it now. Next time I question whether something is moral, I'll come to you for a consultation first, okay?”

He put his hand on the knob to open the door, but her gentle hand stopped him.

“I did it to protect you,” she said quietly. “You have to believe that.”

When he turned to look at her, he saw a different person than the one that had approached him at the party. It was as close to the real, genuine Mackenzie that had left his apartment that day as he could recognize. She had a strange fear in her eyes, a fear that he couldn't place but that made him uneasy.

“I didn't mean to hurt you, but I love you too much to see you get hurt...by her,” she said, almost as an afterthought. “Please, let me come in so I can talk to you.”

He was hesitant at first; after all, this was the woman who had managed to ruin his life twice so far. But after looking into her eyes for a few moments, he felt a wave of emotions coming back to him – trust being one that he didn't expect.

He sighed, and finally opening the door, he waved his hand to invite her in.

“Would you like anything?” he asked after they were both inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

“I've had one hell of a day,” she responded after throwing her coat over a chair. “I could go for some wine, if it wouldn't be too much.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No problem. I'll be back.”

As he watched her sit down on his couch and he walked into the kitchen, he questioned exactly why he had invited her into his apartment.

“Joey's right; you're a moron,” he mumbled to himself as he walked to the cabinet.

He pulled out two glasses and the bottle of wine, and as he was about to reach for the corkscrew in the cabinet, his eye caught sight of the label. Pinot grigio – a favorite of only one person he knew. He had made sure he had this bottle before they left for Mississippi, to have when they got back from the party on New Year's. He had hoped they would have something to celebrate.

“Fucking idiot,” he said as he grabbed the corkscrew angrily. “One woman in your life who makes you happy, finally makes you feel complete. You had to go and screw it up. Now she's gone.”

Now she's gone, he thought as he popped the cork on the wine. And she's not coming back.

Chapter 24 – Bad News

Los Angeles – Another Week Later

Stephanie grabbed the suitcase out of her backseat, setting it on the ground before shutting the door. Looking up at the beautiful two-story house situated on a small, private lake in front of her, she sighed. It had been a long time since she had been to Adeline's house to visit, much less stay. In fact, it was normally something she avoided at all costs – but thankfully, for this visit, the person she most hated to see was gone and he shouldn't be coming back.

Adeline had thought it was a bit funny when she had called her a few days ago and told her she was coming to visit for two weeks. She must have known that something was up, since Stephanie rarely took two weeks off from her job willingly. She wasn't always capable of taking that much time off – sometimes, two weeks to a busy celebrity was more like a month. But the news she was bringing required her to stay and be there for her friend.

As she walked up the path to the door, gravel crunching under her feet, she contemplated how she would break the news to a woman who was already destroyed and couldn't handle much more.

She hesitantly rang the doorbell, taking a deep breath and plastering her best smile on her face, even though she wasn't feeling it at the moment. It was only a few seconds before the door opened.

“Hey!” she greeted Adeline happily when she saw her face at the door.

“Hey,” Adeline responded. Stephanie noticed she was almost despondent; her normal, put-together wardrobe had gone out the window in favor of leggings and a pink t-shirt. “You made it into LA okay?”

“Yeah,” Stephanie responded, her fake smile falling. “A little traffic – put me behind about half an hour – but nothing huge.”

“You can go ahead and put your bags over there,” Adeline said, pointing to the staircase. “I got the guest bedroom mostly set up for you. The rest of the house is...well...”

Stephanie looked around; normally Adeline kept her house obsessively spotless, and while it was still clean, it was clear that she had other things on her mind besides obsessing over tidiness. Her laptop and books were set up on the coffee table, while a basket full of laundry sat next to a recliner, still unfolded. Dishes sat around her work area, and some of her suitcases remained packed and opened only to remove a few things she had needed.

“You should see my tiny apartment, love,” Stephanie responded, walking her suitcase to the staircase. “I don't have a guest bedroom; I barely have room for a guest. It'll be nice to have some room to breathe for two weeks.”

“You didn't have to come out here,” Adeline said. “I know how to move on with my life, Steph. I can handle it.”

“I didn't have to, but I wanted to,” Stephanie said. “I don't want you sitting around all day, eating ice cream, forgetting to shower, and watching the damn telly all day.”

Adeline smiled; sometimes it was hard to remember that Stephanie was Australian at heart, until she let her native slang slip out of her mouth.

“All the Ben and Jerry's in the world can't cure a broken heart, my dear,” Stephanie continued. She sat down her suitcase and swaggered over to the couch, where she picked up the television remote and quickly switched the TV off the afternoon talk show it was stationed on. “Nor can Oprah or Dr. Phil – as much as they want you to believe they can.”

Adeline watched as Stephanie flitted around the room, from one corner to the other, picking up and reorganizing things. She hadn't even been here five minutes. Adeline knew this was her nervous habit. When Stephanie quickly walked into the kitchen, she followed her.

“You don't have to clean my house,” she said with a smile. “I can handle it, Steph.”

“Then what am I here for?”

“You don't clean.”

“I don't think I like what you're implying,” Stephanie said with a smile. She gathered up some dishes off the counter, stacking them up next to the sink to rinse and then put them in the dishwasher. “Just because I'm on the opposite side of the clean freak line as you are, doesn't mean I'm useless. I'll have you know that I cleaned up for an entire year for L--”

Stephanie stopped mid-sentence, realizing her mistake immediately. She looked over at her friend, who was gathering up more dishes, and noticed that the slip hadn't gotten by her.

“For my shit head of a former employer,” Stephanie finished. “I cleaned up for an entire year for him.”

“You can say his name,” Adeline said. Her head hung as she placed the dishes next to the rest.

“I'm sorry, Addy. I didn't think.”

“It's okay,” Adeline responded. “I left him; it wasn't the other way around. I'm the one who won't answer his phone calls or text messages.”

“He won't give up, you know,” Stephanie said. “That persistent little fucker will keep trying and trying and trying...”

“He stopped calling last week.”

Adeline looked up at Stephanie from wiping the counter down with a towel. There was a smile, but she couldn't be sure that it wasn't accompanied by a threat of tears.

Of course he did, Stephanie thought. The one time he doesn't keep trying...

“Speaking of fuckers,” Stephanie said, “I'm curious to know how you managed to snag the house. Marc isn't that nice.”

She thought she heard a chuckle escape from Adeline's mouth as she scrubbed the counter. Stephanie watched her as she scrubbed, pursing her lips, until she stopped and threw the rag down on top of the dishes she had stacked.

“You wanna help clean something?” Adeline asked as she looked up. “I've got a job for you.”

Adeline walked out of the room, and completely bewildered, Stephanie followed after her. She followed past her suitcase and up the stairs, past both bedrooms, to the very end of the hall where Adeline stopped at the door to Marc's office.

“Christ, there isn't a body behind that door, is there?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Adeline put her hand on the knob and turned it, opening the door slowly. When the door had opened enough to see in, Stephanie's jaw dropped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered in shock.

The room was destroyed. Paper and shards of glass laid everywhere on the floor and across the rug. His desk had been cleared except for a few lingering sheets of paper and a cardboard box. Drawers and cabinet doors hung open, their contents missing.

“Please tell me there was an earthquake,” Stephanie said, still shocked at the sight.

“I did it,” Adeline responded.

Stephanie's hands went to her mouth as she stepped in and looked around the room.

“You did all this?” she asked. Adeline only nodded silently. “Addy, I don't know what to say.”

It was the truth. Stephanie would have been less surprised if it had been anybody else, but this kind of behavior was uncharacteristic of Adeline.

“I guess you never underestimate the wrath of a woman scorned,” Stephanie finally said. “Did you guys get into an argument?”

“No,” Adeline responded. “Well, yeah – but not in this room.”

“Has he seen any of this?”

“He knows I did some...damage,” Adeline said. “But he doesn't know the extent. He hasn't come to get his stuff; I had his secretary come pick up a few of his things. I told him that if he even grazed the doorstep, I'd have the cops ready and waiting for him.”

“The cops?” Stephanie said.

“I didn't bring you up here to show you the mess I made,” Adeline said.

She carefully stepped over pieces of glass to walk over to the desk. Stephanie followed, even more carefully in her high heels. Adeline stood behind the desk where the box was and lifted off the top.

“He's been even busier than we thought,” she said as she pulled a manila envelope out of the top and handed it off to Stephanie. “Turns out, cheating isn't his only hobby.”

Stephanie opened the flap of the envelope and pulled out the contents, her eyes narrowing when she saw the first picture on top of the stack.

“This is you,” she said, her eyes running over it in confusion. “And Lance.”

“Yep,” Adeline said.

“Where is this? What is this?”

Adeline didn't answer; she only stared into the box sadly.

“Wait, this is the time he took you to Coney Island,” she said, and flipped to a new picture. “And that golf game you played...and the beach at Coney Island...and in his parking lot?” she said, confused. “Did you have these taken?”

“Nope,” Adeline said shortly.

“These look like...close-ups from a distance,” Stephanie said. “Paparazzi pictures maybe.”

“You're close,” Adeline said.

“Oh my God, Addy, he had you followed!”

“Try stalked,” Adeline said, tipping the box over in a single movement, letting its contents spill out.

Stephanie stared at the items, trying to process what her friend was telling her.

“He's had me stalked since the beginning. Lance's tires getting stolen, the break-in at Thanksgiving, that guy from his building always showing up at the exact wrong time, the feeling like I had eyes on me all the time...I can't believe I didn't put the pieces together. And when I walked in on him with his assistant, he had this sick, demented smile – like he knew I was going to be walking into the house, like he knew I was coming back, and he set me up to find him to spite me. He's seen everything.”

“Including this,” Stephanie said, holding up the purple shawl.

“He knows about the proposal,” she said. “He knows everything.”

“And he hasn't taken you to the cleaners?”

“I told him I wouldn't have him arrested for all his illegal activities if he gave me a month to move out of the house. He was so open to my agreement that he gave me a month and a half.”

“So he's a generous bastard,” Stephanie said.

“Only for now,” Adeline said. “You know he's going to put me through the wringer during the divorce. He'll use these pictures to do all he can to destroy me.”

A smile finally came across Stephanie's face.

“Not if he doesn't have them,” she said. “Feel like starting a fire tonight?”

Adeline shook her head and knelt down and started picking up pieces of glass from the floor.

“He probably has copies, Steph,” she said. “There's no point. Besides, I deserve it. I played with fire and now...I'm getting burned.”

Stephanie sighed. She felt slightly guilty, as she was partially to blame for Adeline and Lance's relationship.

“I wish I hadn't pulled Lance into all of this,” Adeline continued. “No matter what he did to me...he doesn't deserve this.”

Stephanie grabbed a picture from the top of the stack of Marc's photos – it was from their night at the club. These pictures couldn't speak tangible words, but every one of them told a story, and this one was the loudest. The kiss may not have been the way Adeline had planned to end her night, but she could see from the picture that it was no accident.

Stephanie may have had bad timing, but she was right; her two friends belonged together.

“I screwed up, Steph. I screwed up so bad. I wish I could go back and erase the whole thing. I love him but it's not worth all this.”

A sadness took over Stephanie. She didn't want to break her friend's heart more than it had already been broken.

“Addy...”

Adeline looked up at her friend, who was normally so confident – she had something to say, that she didn't want to.

“I have some bad news,” she said.

Adeline didn't say anything; the feeling she had in her stomach was enough.

“Lance and Mackenzie are back together,” Stephanie said, her head hanging.

The bad feeling subsided for a moment as she turned away.

“I figured they were,” she said. “That's good. I'm...happy for them.”

She went back to picking up shards of glass carefully from the floor. When Stephanie didn't say anything or make any movement in response, she looked back up.

“They're not just back together, Addy,” Stephanie said. “They're...getting married. In two and a half weeks.”

Stephanie watched as her face fell, even though she tried to hide it.

“Why so soon?” Adeline asked.

“Nobody knows,” Stephanie said. “We don't even know what the hell he's thinking. It's like he doesn't care anymore, probably because you're not in the picture.”

“Please don't, Stephanie,” Adeline warned.

“Call him, Addy,” Stephanie said. “I'm begging you. Talk some sense into him, even if you don't take him back.”

“It's his life,” Adeline replied. “Besides, he was going to marry her before. They were engaged for a long time. Maybe they're tired of waiting.”

“She's not a good person for him. She's going to drag him down. I don't know what her motive is, but I know it isn't good.”

“Then let him make that mistake,” Adeline said as she gathered glass to throw it in the trash. “He hurt me – why should I still have to run after him cleaning up his mistakes and making sure he doesn't ruin his life?”

“Because you still care,” Stephanie said.

“I don't care anymore. If it's not great for him, then he can learn that on his own. We're not together anymore. He can make his own poor choices.”

“You do think it's a mistake,” Stephanie said.

“Nothing new. He's made a lot of mistakes lately.”

“Yeah, that's not bitter and hostile,” Stephanie said. “Say what you want to say – that you think he's making a huge mistake because he's marrying her and not you.”

“That wasn't what I was saying. It was a personal observation as his former employee.”

“Excuse me, former employee? I love you, but can I please strangle you?”

Adeline ignored her, going around the room to collect more trash.

“It's a wonder that you manage to go anywhere, because all you're ever doing is digging your heels in,” Stephanie said. “I used to think that Lance was the most stubborn person that I knew, but you're twice as stubborn as he is. You don't even want to say former fiancee. Why can't you just admit that you're miserable without him? Look around you, Addy.”

Stephanie kicked a large piece of glass away from her foot and closer to Adeline.

“You didn't do all of this because you're mad at Marc,” she said. “Sure, he slept with his assistant and you walked in on it, but you're not all that surprised. You were coming back to file for divorce anyway; walking in on him just gave you the confirmation you needed, not to mention ammunition. You're still wearing your engagement ring.”

Adeline's hand went to cover the ring, giving it a twist around her finger.

“Didn't think I noticed that, did you?” Stephanie said. “That's your problem. You don't let people in. I'm your best friend and you don't even let me in all the way. You laugh with me, you commiserate about our jobs with me, you gossip about our clients with me, you dole out endless shit with me – but when you're hurting, you shove me away and try to pretend that you don't need anybody, that you're fine. You're not fine, Addy.”

When she looked up, Stephanie thought maybe she had finally broken down the barrier, that Adeline might cry.

“You're not fine,” she repeated. “All he wants is to talk to you. He doesn't want things to have ended like this between you, and you don't want that either. He still loves you. He doesn't want to be without you; he only accepts it because he thinks that's what you want. You haven't given him any indication otherwise. You won't call him, you won't listen to or return his voicemails, you won't even pick up the phone when he calls. You shut him out like you shut everybody else out and lie to yourself that that's the way you want it. You're a really bad liar, Addy.”

“That's what I've been told,” Adeline said. About to break into tears, she stepped over glass and papers to leave the room, running down the stairs quickly.

Once she was gone, Stephanie looked around at the room once more, moving more shards with her foot, some of them cracking under her toes. The destruction took on a new meaning as she looked over it all. It was funny when she had first walked in, but now she looked at it and could only feel sadness. It was the only visible sign that her friend would show of how she felt – broken and destroyed.

“Well, at least she didn't throw anything,” Stephanie said to herself. “Who am I kidding? There's nothing left to throw.”

Chapter 25 – Ghosts

New York – Two weeks before wedding

“Nothing fancy,” he said into the phone. “No, we don't have time for anything like that. All I need is a simple cake...”

Lance's phone beeped at him to tell him he was running low on battery. He pulled it away from his ear and the battery icon blinked red at ten percent.

“I have to go...seriously, nothing fancy. Put the order in and that's it.”

He quickly hung up the phone before the girl on the other end could protest and try to sell him an even more expensive and time-consuming cake. He had already resisted the urge during the fifteen-minute phone call to stomp his foot and yell 'I just want a cake' at her.

He sighed and threw the phone down on the table, rolling his neck and then pressing the heels of his palms against his temples. He wasn't the kind of typical guy that didn't want anything to do with planning a wedding and let the woman do everything. He didn't take over everything but he was a hands-on guy and liked to know what was going on. He liked to think he had planned enough of a wedding before, even though it never happened, to know what he was doing.

For this particular wedding, however, he could say with confidence that he'd had enough of wedding planning. Every step of the way, it seemed he encountered a fight from someone – and usually it was over the deadline. It was almost as if there was no one left in the world that tried to plan a wedding in three weeks.

That's because you're the only one, moron, he told himself. When Stephanie had asked him why, in a slightly less-friendly way, he couldn't even give her an answer. “I don't know” was all he could say to her.

It wasn't good enough for her, and it hadn't been good enough for any of his other friends either. Most of his friends, especially the ones that had met Adeline, were finding excuses not to come to the wedding. Mackenzie had thought it would be a nice gesture to ask his two best female friends to be her bridesmaids.

I'll be busy that day, was all Jamie-Lynn's text response read. Joanna had gotten a little gutsier and had stood up to him instead. I won't be bridesmaid and I won't be attending. I'm protesting.

Joey's response was the one that hurt the most. He had asked his best friend to be his best man, as he had always intended to do.

I won't be your best man until you stop being a huge jackass.

He knew it hurt Joey to say that at least as much as it hurt Lance to hear it – after all, it was Joey. They had been best friends for years. They would do anything for one another. But apparently, even Joey had a line he wouldn't cross.

He knew they were right. Mackenzie was wrong for him; he had realized that in the year that they had been apart. As much as they didn't like his first ridiculous answer, he assumed they wouldn't accept the only other answer he had – that settling for second best was better than pining for something he could never have.

She had texted him earlier that day. He had been in the middle of scouring the phone book to start another day of finalizing things for the wedding when his phone had buzzed. He assumed it was his mom, or one of his friends sending another of their daily messages telling him he was making a stupid mistake. So when he picked it up and saw her name, he wasn't sure he was reading it right.

Congrats.

The single word might as well have pierced him straight through his heart. He took a breath before he started typing.

Thanks.

He sat the phone down and waited for his phone to buzz again. He hoped she would send another message back, maybe a you're welcome, and he could steel himself to ask her how she was doing. It didn't seem like enough time had passed to have the uncomfortable conversation you have with an ex when you see them, maybe in a grocery store or the coffee shop, and you asked them how they were doing. They usually responded by telling you they were fine and returning the favor. After a couple of minutes of uncomfortable exchange, someone always asked if the other was dating someone.

It had crossed his mind. He couldn't help but wonder what she had done after she went back to Los Angeles. He wondered if she had gone through with filing for divorce like she had planned. Maybe she had gone back and patched her life with her husband up. Maybe she hadn't and she was busy going out and meeting new men – new men that weren't him.

The thought drove him crazy. Crazy enough that the minute it had crossed his mind while thinking about her in that coffee shop, he almost bolted out the door without paying and drove straight to the airport. Then the thought had crossed his mind that he was being a bit obsessive, so he paid for his coffee and left.

He had realized he was also being hypocritical. He had been the first to make the move in that complicated chess game of the breakup. He was the jerk who was planning to get married, had gotten engaged only a week after he and Adeline had broken up. So far, Adeline had not come running back to beg him not to.

And she wasn't going to. He waited forever, and his phone didn't buzz again. He checked to see if it had ran out of battery and died before she sent it – but it was still on, despite the red blinking battery icon. There was no new message.

And that was why he wasn't going back. She had moved on, like he thought. He had broken her heart and his face would be the last one she would want to see.

That didn't stop her face from haunting every moment of his day.

“Dinner...is served,” he said, walking tiredly through the living room and setting the bag of take-out food on the coffee table before taking off his coat. “This has been a horrible day.”

He collapsed into the couch next to Adeline, and she leaned up from her seat to take a peek inside the bag. She sat her book beside her on the arm rest.

“Chinese again?” she asked with a smile.

“It was down the street,” he responded. “I really didn't want to go very far. I wanted to come home.”

“What happened?” she asked.

He sighed. “They turned down my idea.”

She clicked her tongue. “I'm so sorry.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. It was only an idea for a new kids' show that he was pitching to a friend's production company. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but he had spent so long on the idea and it had been so long since he had done something productive with his career, he couldn't help but feel like he had added another failure to his list.

“It was only an idea,” he said. “Another will come along. Hopefully a better one.”

“Well I have something that might make you feel better,” she said.

He watched her get up from the couch and walk into his kitchen and grab a bag from beside her purse. He smiled watching her smile as she removed the thin case from the bag.

“Movie night,” she said, handing him the DVD case.

“Paranormal Activity,” he said, smiling and raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure that's a good idea?”

“Why not?”

“I could list all the reasons,” he said, “but it's only a 24-hour rental. We don't have time.”

“Oh ha ha,” she said, turning up her nose. “You think I can't handle a scary movie?”

“You're so jumpy that sometimes you can't handle the toaster in the morning.”

“You, sir, underestimate me,” she said, taking the case from his hands roughly.

He rolled his eyes in amusement as she put the movie in his DVD player. She came to sit with him and as he pressed the play button on the remote, she relaxed into him.

“Forget about them,” she said. She readjusted his arm so it was wrapped around her shoulders. “You have me now.”

A neighbor's door slamming from down the hall knocked him out of his daze with such force that he felt himself physically jump.

The flashbacks had been coming frequently. Whenever he let his mind wander, it was like she was back in his apartment – but it was only a ghost version of her, one that he couldn't touch.

He realized that the flashback version of him was a ghost as well. He could feel every emotion that he had once felt, but he couldn't go back and change anything that had happened in the past. He was only the onlooker, reliving every good moment they had ever shared together, only to drive home how much he was suffering without her.

“This is good,” she said, lifting the chopsticks full of noodles to her mouth to take another bite.

“Best in town, I think,” he said.

As she was about to put the food in her mouth, he leaned his head in to eat them off her utensils.

“Hey!” she yelled as he chewed. “You're stealing my food, jerk!”

He tried to keep from laughing as he finished chewing, looking at her betrayed facial expression.

“You're such an ass.” She dropped the empty chopsticks back into the takeout container and put it back on the table in front of them. “Just for that, I'm stealing your beef.”

When he made a choking noise, she looked back at him, seeing a smile on his face.

“What?”

“If Joey were here,” he said, struggling to keep from laughing, “there would be a dirty joke to gleam from that.”

She rolled her eyes as she picked up another container. “Pervert.”

“Yeah, but...you still love me,” he said as she leaned back into him.

They each finished the rest of their food in almost silence, finally getting interested in the movie. It was about three-quarters of the way into it before he realized it. She had gone from gently resting her head on his shoulder to shielding her eyes from the scariest parts with it. She had a tight grasp on his arm with both of her hands. He looked down at her to laugh at her frightened expression, but he saw something else.

He had come home in a horrible mood, and while she was hardly trying, she had almost instantly turned it around for him. Simply laying here with her on the couch, eating take-out, and watching a movie had turned his night around – and he wanted it every night from now on.

And that had been the exact moment he had realized that he wanted to marry her. He had no idea at what point it shifted for her – maybe it was that night, maybe it didn't happen until later, or maybe she had always felt that way.

Before he knew it, he had pulled out a bottle of vodka that he hadn't touched in weeks, in hopes it would help him get through the rest of the wedding plans he had to make that day. He didn't drink a lot, even when he went out with his friends. Being drunk wasn't a feeling he liked; he hated being a stumbling mess, making a fool out of himself, and saying things and not remembering them. But tonight was something he didn't want to remember.

At some point after a few hours and several shots, he picked up the phone and made two phone calls. But the plan to call around for a caterer had slipped away from him when he realized that he was alone in his bedroom, sitting on the floor against the wall with the bottle that he hadn't taken another drink out of for several minutes, with the phone to his ear.

“Hey, it's Addy,” her voice said.

He didn't even wait for the beep before he started talking.

“God, your voice,” he said, suddenly losing whatever self-control he had before he had dialed the numbers. “I haven't heard your voice in over a week.”

He paused, hearing nothing on the other end.

“Addy, I'm drunk right now – I think – but this is the first time I've had the guts to call you in...I don't know how long. I don't even know what to say right now. You're here and I'm there and...who let me have my cell phone while I was drinking?”

He took a deep breath to compose himself, already realizing that tomorrow when she opened her voicemail, she would hear this and he would look like an even bigger idiot. Maybe that was what he needed her to see – that he was as big of an idiot as he thought he was.

“You're there and I'm here,” he said, correcting his mistake carefully. “I wish you were in front of me, so I could say all of this to your face. I don't do this – I don't call girls drunk and spill my guts to their voicemail like this. And I don't cry – look at me, I'm crying.”

He chuckled at himself while wiping away a tear with his shirt sleeve.

“You can't look at me, I forgot. It feels like you can. It feels like you're always here, reminding me of what I was so stupid to let walk out of my life. I'm so stupid, Addy. It hurts.”

It was then that the alcohol took over. He was thankful that Mackenzie was out of town and none of his friends were at his apartment to see him, that he was completely alone when he burst into tears. Simply admitting out loud how bad it had been hurting him was enough.

“It hurts so bad and I'll never get over watching you walk out of my apartment the way you did,” he said. He wasn't even sure she would be able to understand what he was saying. “I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, sitting here with a bottle of vodka like some drunk that has completely lost himself.”

And that was exactly what he had managed to do – he had lost himself, even worse than he had lost himself over a year ago when another woman had walked out of his life. He didn't remember that hurting this bad.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I love you. I just had to tell you one more time...”

He would have gone on, but the phone was taken from his hand gently before an arm wrapped around his back.

“Come on,” Joey said quietly as he lifted him up off the floor and pressed the button on the phone to disconnect the call. He expected Lance to be able to stand on his own two feet, but quickly realized he was too far gone, so he held him steady with one arm while the other took the bottle from his hands and set it on the dresser.

His long-time friend didn't utter a word asking how he'd gotten in his apartment or when he had shown up. Instead, he simply collapsed into his shoulder and continued crying. It might have made Joey uncomfortable if the two of them hadn't been such good friends and if he didn't know that Lance was way past drunk. Joey had known that a moment like this was going to come eventually – he just had no idea that it would hit Lance this hard and would involve liquor and a badly planned phone call to Adeline.

Joey stood with Lance, letting him have his moment. When he got tired of standing, he helped him sit down on the bed. Eventually he stopped, and Joey remained quiet while he tried to gather his composure in a drunken stupor.

“The other guys never hear about any of this,” Lance finally said quietly.

“Not a single word,” Joey responded.

Chapter 26 – I Guess This Is Goodbye

Los Angeles – Nine days before wedding

Adeline laid in her bed with her door closed and watched outside the window. The day's last sunlight filtered in through the blinds, casting a shadow on part of the room. The trees outside swayed in the light wind, and she used her fingernail to repeatedly trace the scroll pattern stitched in silky thread on her pillowcase. Droplets dotted the fabric underneath her head in various places, the gray darkened with her tears.

These days, her bedroom was the only place she could come to get the privacy away from Stephanie to cry freely. She loved her best friend, but at the mere sight of a single tear Adeline knew she would go into hyper-drive and try to convince her to call him. Stephanie knew nothing about his phone call and Adeline intended to keep it that way.

She didn't know what to think about it, truthfully. She had been busy on the computer when her phone rang that night, and since he hadn't called in so long she hadn't been screening calls for the past few days before it. She picked it up without thinking about it, without even looking at the screen.

When she heard his voice, she had been too surprised to say anything. If she had wanted to say anything, she wouldn't have known what to say to him. She heard it in his voice that he had been drinking – a lot. His words slurred together and his voice lulled, like he hadn't slept in days.

And when he started talking to her as if he didn't know she was on the other end, she realized that he thought he was talking to her voicemail. She was relieved; even though it made her a coward, it meant she didn't have to say anything to him. She let him ramble on and on, listening the entire time until the phone inexplicably clicked on the other end and her screen told her the call had ended.

It surprised her how she had lost control of herself the minute she heard him start to cry. It happened in an instant, her own tears coming as soon as she heard it in his voice. Never once in the time that she had known him had he acted like that. In fact, he had built up so many walls to keep those emotions out, she didn't know he was capable of them.

It had left her confused for days. Men who were happy with their fiancees didn't drunkenly call their exes in tears, and since he had stopped calling after Mackenzie had come back into his life, she assumed he was happy. At the same time, he had been unusually and outrageously drunk, transposing words and bursting into tears.

She had waited for him to call again the next day, but that call never came. So she could only assume the random late-night phone call had been a complete mistake – one that he realized he was making the minute he said 'I love you' and he hung up. And for her, that hurt worse than the phone call itself did.

She heard the front door close, and she buried her face in the pillow to let a few more tears slip out. The door closing meant that Stephanie was home from whatever had kept her out for the past few hours, and she would have no more private time for today. She sniffled and shifted herself to move from the bed, grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to quickly wipe her nose and her tears away – all evidence that she had anything on her mind gone from view.

As she heard footsteps approaching up the stairs and down the hall, she threw the tissue on the table and swiped under her eyes, hoping to diminish any puffiness that might be there. The door opened as she took her last sniffle.

“Oh me, oh my,” Stephanie said as she came through the door, far more cheerful than Adeline herself. “That butcher at your supermarket is one hot piece of meat – pun intended.”

When Adeline didn't respond, Stephanie turned to look at her.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Aside from you not knowing general etiquette and how to knock on the door, no,” Adeline responded.

“Have you been in here the whole time I've been gone?”

“Not the whole time,” she said, grateful that she didn't have to put on her poker face since it wasn't a complete lie. “I've been laying down. I have a headache.”

That wasn't a lie either. The tearing up had brought on a massive throbbing behind her eyes and in her sinuses, which had only made her want to cry more.

“Come downstairs and I'll get you some aspirin and some tea,” Stephanie said, her hand already on the doorknob. “Oh and I find that a little bit of concealer under the eyes really hides that puffy look from all the crying.”

Adeline looked up at her friend.

“You should try a little harder to hide it,” Stephanie said, and walked out the door.

Adeline sighed and grabbed another tissue from the box, wiping away the rest of the tears from the corners of her eyes. She grabbed both used tissues and threw them in the trash can beside her bed, and stood up and headed over to her dresser's mirror.

Looking at her reflection, she saw what Stephanie meant. She wasn't hiding it as well as she thought she had been. Her under eyelids were puffed up and dark from crying and lack of sleep. Her eyes were also bloodshot instead of the pure white they were normally. Her cheeks were streaked with tear tracks which she wiped away. Her clothes were rumpled from laying in bed the past couple of hours, and she looked horribly under-dressed in a white t-shirt and dark blue sweatpants.

“I'm the poster child for the romantically heartbroken,” she mumbled to herself as she tugged on her shirt and waved her hand at herself in the mirror before she walked out of the door.

Downstairs, she found Stephanie in the kitchen at the stove minding a tea kettle. A bottle of aspirin was already placed at the island for Adeline as she walked in and sat down at one of the stools.

“Have I told you yet that you're wearing out your welcome in my house?” Adeline asked.

“In two weeks, it won't be your house anymore anyway, so unless Marc shows up at that door to kick me out himself, you're shit out of luck sister.”

Stephanie turned around and smiled as she put a mug in front of Adeline.

“Besides, you need someone here to take care of you,” she said.

“I'm twenty-seven, I think I'm capable of taking care of myself, believe it or not,” Adeline responded as she took two pills out of the bottle.

“You're capable, but it always helps to have a good friend around when you're heartbroken.” Stephanie sat down in the chair next to her. “Watching sad movies and eating your own weight in cookies is better when you share it with someone you love – which by the way, isn't a lot of cookies for you. Have you been eating?”

Adeline shrugged. She couldn't say she had been starving herself, but her appetite hadn't been the same recently.

“I don't eat when I'm not hungry,” she responded.

Stephanie sighed.

“Can we try something?” she asked, looking her in the eyes. “Can we try not lying anymore, or giving vague answers that aren't the truth but aren't a complete lie? I know you're not eating well, I know you're hurting, I know you've spent the past few days crying when I'm not looking, and you suck at trying to hide it all.”

Adeline chuckled as Stephanie ran two fingers through her hair.

“There is no shame in admitting to me that you're sad, Addy,” Stephanie said with a mothering tone in her voice. “I'm your friend. I know I'm a bit persistent--”

“You're a flat-out pain in the ass,” Adeline said, lowering her eyes.

“That hurts,” Stephanie responded, sticking out her bottom lip in a slight pout.

The two of them stayed silent as she went on running her fingers through her friend's hair, fixing unruly curls. The simple feel of gentle fingers was enough to make the tears start coming again.

“I know he called,” Stephanie said lowly.

“You didn't snoop through my phone, did you?”

“My fingers might have accidentally picked it up,” Stephanie said. “They also might have accidentally found your recent calls list and scrolled down through it. I'm not saying they did, but they might have.”

“You're nosy.”

“I'm a flat-out pain in the ass, remember?”

Adeline found her emotions breaking down so quickly that all she could do was lean into Stephanie's shoulder and let the wall break down. Stephanie quickly put her arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. They remained that way, completely silent, until the kettle whistled.

Stephanie got up to fill both of their mugs, and Adeline used that time to collect herself and wipe away her tears once again. Her headache hadn't completely diminished, but she could feel the medicine already starting to kick in.

“Tonight, I'm taking you out,” Stephanie said as she sat back down with both of their mugs. “And you're not fighting me about it.”

“I'm not feeling up to going out,” Adeline said.

“No, you're not, but sometimes you have to make yourself do things you don't feel like doing. I'm making dinner then we're going out to some crappy club with crappy music and crappy men. You're going to meet some guy that you have absolutely no interest in, but you're going to talk to him anyway so you can say that you did it.”

“That will help me how?” Adeline questioned.

“If you don't start going out and trying to meet people, the neighbors will think I'm your new lesbian lover,” Stephanie said.

“And that's a bad thing?”

“I love you my dear, but not that much,” Stephanie responded with a smile.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long time since she had made herself do something forcefully, on principle alone. She didn't want to be at this club, but she realized that Stephanie was right. Without a job and without her husband, she had done a lot of sitting at home doing nothing except watching TV and moping. Even as down as she had felt lately, she knew that did no one any good.

She sat at the bar through an entire Beyonce song, wondering what everybody thought was so great about her, until the end of the song when she found herself humming about putting a ring on it.

“Fantastic,” she mumbled to herself. She signaled to the bartender, who came right over. “Vodka martini, please – feel free to go heavy on the vodka,” she said to him.

“You're either a very gutsy woman who can handle her alcohol, or you're trying to forget something.”

She turned her body slightly towards the voice behind her. A man in his late-twenties with dark auburn hair smiled back at her.

“Maybe it's both,” she said to him before she turned back around towards the bar. The last thing she wanted to deal with tonight was someone trying to impress her with their list of bad pick-up lines.

“In that case,” the man said as he sat down on the stool next to her, “maybe you should go with the vodka straight.” He held out his hand to her. “My name's Martin.”

She reluctantly held out her left hand to greet him.

“I'm Adeline,” she said.

“I'm assuming what you're trying to forget has to do with a man,” he said. “And it probably has something to do with that ring on your finger.”

She looked at the ring on her hand and sighed.

“Promise ring? Engagement?” he asked.

“Engagement,” she said.

“At least you're not married,” he said. “I always end up hitting on the married women without knowing it.”

She smiled. “Well, technically, Martin...I am married.”

“Shouldn't you have that on your other finger then? With your wedding ring?” he asked.

She held up her right hand to show him. “I took that off. I filed for divorce about three weeks ago.”

“And you're still wearing your engagement ring?” he asked.

“Different man, different engagement,” she said. “Not the one I'm divorcing.”

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “You're married, but you filed for divorce. And now you're engaged, but to a different man?”

“I was,” she said. “He went back to his ex three weeks ago – and he's marrying her in nine days.”

“Oh honey,” he said, motioning to the bartender immediately. “You need another drink.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time an hour had passed, Adeline was feeling a bit fuzzy from the drinks she had consumed. She had been talking to Martin the whole time and he was a nice guy, but she was pretty sure deep inside he had ulterior motives.

She had no idea where Stephanie had ran off to – and she was feeling betrayed, because she could use rescuing before the alcohol took over and tonight became one more mistake in her life. Now more than ever she wished that Lance was here to pull her away and take her home, to put her into bed like he had done the night of his Halloween party.

She had tried to avoid slipping into thoughts of what that night would be like because there were so many ways it could go, and it was unfair to Martin to be thinking of another man when she was honestly enjoying his company. Not to mention, she had to remind herself several times that she was living in the here and now instead of that slightly blurry dream in her head – but the dream was so tempting.

“My luck that the one time I find a beautiful, single girl in a club, she has so much baggage she needs an extra closet to put it all in,” he said with a smile.

“I'm so sorry, Martin,” she replied.

“Oh I'm not sorry,” he said. “Baggage or not, this is the best conversation I've had with a woman at a bar in two years. Dating in the city is rough.”

“I wouldn't know,” she said. “I haven't tried. I don't think I'm ready. I needed tonight to convince myself that I could take the first step to getting over it, if that's even possible.”

“I know how that goes,” he said, stirring his drink with the fancy swizzle stick the club had given him. “I've had my fair share of heartbreak.”

Another Beyonce song came on and Adeline groaned.

“I guess I should probably be going, it's getting late,” he said, and she could pick up on his reluctance. He didn't want to leave her.

She couldn't help but think about when she had finally picked up her phone to text Lance a week ago. All she could muster was congrats, so she could let go of the guilt that she knew would come later if she didn't at least congratulate him. When he had sent back a thanks, she had sat in her bedroom and cried for half an hour. She had considered responding, maybe asking him how he was doing and asking if he was happy, but she was afraid to hear the answer, and had chickened out before she could press the send button.

For a moment, she wondered why she was hanging onto Lance so hard. He had obviously moved on from her. He would be getting married in a little over a week. He was probably in his bed right now, laying next to Mackenzie, holding her like he used to hold Adeline, close and tight to his body. He was probably warm and content, while she was cold and lonely in this bar – cold and lonely all over.

She couldn't even hate him for it. She couldn't hate him for choosing the person he loved more. If she had the chance, she might have done the same thing.

Regardless of how she felt now, or how much it hurt, she knew it was time to move on – or at least try.

“My friend seems to have bailed on me,” she said, feeling her throat tighten. “Do you think you could give me a ride home, Martin?”

“I can do that,” he said with a nod.

They both pushed their drinks aside and stepped down from the stools, gathering their belongings. He reached behind him and it startled her when he grabbed her hand, lightly in a non-committal way – but it was enough to set in motion a string of feelings that she wasn't sure she was ready for.

But some things, whether she was ready for them or not, she had to force herself to do – otherwise she would never manage to move on.

“I guess this is my goodbye,” she whispered to herself as her fingers tightened into his and she let him lead her away to the door.

Chapter 27 – Climbing The Walls

New York – Six days until wedding

“How does this one look?”

Both Mackenzie and the bridal consultant turned their heads toward Lance waiting for a response, but they saw him staring off into nowhere.

“It's beautiful,” he said, without even looking.

“Lance,” Mackenzie said. “Seriously. I need to know what you think. The wedding is in six days.”

“Isn't this bad luck?”

She sighed. “That's a superstition.”

Truth was, that had crossed her mind too. The last thing she wanted to do was bestow any bad luck on the marriage – but she didn't have the time to worry about that.

“I don't want to do this,” he said. “Can't you get one of your friends to come do this?”

“I want your opinion,” she said. “You're the one I have to impress when I walk down the aisle.”

His phone starting ringing and he pulled it out of his pocket.

“You'll look gorgeous in anything,” he said to her, then looked at his phone. “Kenz, I really have to take this, I'm sorry.”

He walked out of the shop and answered the phone.

“Hey Joey.”

“Did you forget something?”

He thought for a moment, and he couldn't think of anything that he could have forgotten.

“I don't think so.”

“My last two days in New York before I'll be in Vegas for a month, and you can't even pull yourself away to remember having lunch with me? Well, I feel special.”

“Shit,” Lance said with a groan, dragging out the word. “God, Joey, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“You doing okay over there?”

“No. The irony is that when I need an assistant most, to keep track of my life in addition to all this wedding crap, I don't have one.”

“She hasn't come back, huh?”

“You expected her to?” Lance asked. “I keep forgetting appointments and lunches because she's not around barking at me to go.”

“Why haven't you hired a new one yet?”

“I don't have time,” he responded. “Kenz has me on full-time wedding duty, I'm running around constantly doing this or that or something else for this wedding. I haven't even had time to make any calls or schedule interviews.”

Joey had a hunch that wasn't the reason his friend hadn't tried to hire a new assistant, but if he said so, Lance would only deny it – like he had denied everything lately.

His drunken breakdown was only a vague memory to him now. His only reminder that the night had happened was a killer hangover, the almost-empty vodka bottle, the vague hint of vomit on his clothes, and Joey's word. He knew he had gotten drunk and called Adeline stupidly, but he had no memory of what he had said – only her name listed in his recent calls.

“Lance, have you asked yourself why she wants this wedding to go through so fast?” Joey asked. “I mean, I think it's a little weird that after all this time, she shows back up and wants to get married in a month.”

“I guess I never thought about it.”

The truth was that she kept him too busy with wedding plans to stop and think about it – and when he did think, Adeline ruled his thoughts still. He still felt her ghost in his apartment, but while the alcohol had staved off the flashbacks for a few days, her presence was still too fresh in his mind to forget.

“Who knows what happened over there in Germany, man,” Joey said. “I'm just saying. If you love Kenzie and you want to marry her, then by all means you go for it, because I want to see you happy. But I won't be the best man in my best friend's trick wedding and see him get hurt.”

Lance sighed. A year ago this was what he wanted. Nothing except seeing Mackenzie walk down that aisle in his family's church in Mississippi would have made him happier. Now he could come up with at least ten things that would make him happier, and it seemed that all of them included Adeline.

He glanced into the window and saw Mackenzie fussing around with the train of her dress while the saleswoman talked to her. He stared; she was gorgeous, and she looked happy.

But he wasn't. It wasn't Mackenzie he wanted to see through that window. He couldn't bring himself to be happy that she was finally happy. And the one thing that he had learned after his night alone with the vodka was that he couldn't even force himself to try to be happy. The more he forced himself, the more miserable he left himself – so miserable that he resorted to getting drunk to make the pain go away.

It had taken him a while, but he was finally realizing he didn't want to live a miserable life, pretending to be happy. Maybe she wouldn't answer her door or accept his apology, but he would be happier with his life if he had tried and failed, than if he gave up and never tried at all.

“Joey, what the fuck am I doing?”

“I don't know, man...I guess...standing around playing with yourself?”

“No, Joey, I mean...I don't want to marry Kenzie.”

“Finally,” Joey groaned.

“I don't even want to be with Kenzie. I want Adeline.”

“So then what the hell are you still standing around for? Why aren't you already on the plane and halfway to LA?”

“Postpone lunch?” Lance asked.

“Of course. Maybe with Addy around, you'll remember next time. Get the hell out of there.”

He disconnected the call and stopped for a moment to look back in the window. Kenzie was still messing with the dress while the saleswoman held the train up for her. She looked so content.

He sighed. He didn't want to do this and break Kenzie's heart the way she had broken his – but there was no way he could go through with this wedding. He didn't want it.

What he wanted was in LA – and he had to find a way to go get it back.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was just his luck that he would get stuck in traffic on the way to the airport. He figured it was karmic – and he didn't bitch because he knew he deserved it. In fact, he probably deserved more, and he was sure he would get it.

Part one of the universe's revenge against him was having to tell Mackenzie that he couldn't marry her. He had done her the decency of waiting until she had finished up in the bridal shop so in case she started to cry, she wouldn't be in front of people. To his surprise, she had only stared at him, not shedding a tear.

They'd had a brief conversation and she knew exactly why he was leaving. She didn't seem as hurt as he had expected. In fact, he almost sensed a feeling of relief from her – but maybe that was how he was feeling that he was picking up on.

Part two of the universe's revenge was the traffic. He had hopped in his car after leaving Mackenzie with cab money and had headed straight for the airport. He had debated going home to pack a small bag but it was an hour he didn't want to waste – but the universe had different ideas, because now he was stuck, for probably about an hour anyway.

Part three was coming up, and he was dreading it almost as much as he was knocking on Adeline's door. He had never been to her house in LA and didn't have an address or a general idea where she lived. He didn't even know if she would be at her house anymore. He couldn't call her; even if she answered, the chances that she would tell him where she lived were slim to none. He knew only one person that would know and might give him the information.

“Hello?”

“Hey Steph, it's me,” he said.

“Goodbye,” she said.

“Stephanie, please wait,” he said. He was grateful when he didn't hear an immediate disconnection. “Will you please wait and let me talk to you?”

“You broke my best friend's heart into a million pieces,” she said. “Why in the hell would I ever want to talk to you again?”

“To be nice,” he said. “To be fair, to listen to my side of the story, to let me explain that what you heard isn't what happened. Is that enough reason for you?”

“No. I'm going to book your flight to San Francisco and make you get on the floor and beg like the dog that you are.”

He sighed. “I guess I deserved that.”

“You're damn right you deserved it,” she said. “Do you know how much she loved you, how much she gave up for you? I spent upwards of a couple of years trying to convince her that her husband was a piece of shit and never could convince her to leave him. You walk into her life and within three months she's ready to file for divorce and start planning a new life, start moving on. She trusts me – but obviously, she trusted you even more. That speaks volumes about how she felt for you.”

“Steph...”

“Oh hell no,” she said, interrupting him. “Don't even think I'm done reaming your ass for what you did to her, James.”

He knew when she used his real first name – something she had only done about twice in the time they'd known each other – that he was in trouble.

“Do you know what she has went through the past few years?” she asked. “Her entire world has repeatedly been shattered. Over half of her life has been one disaster after another that she's had to recover from. All that woman knows is the pain of loss, and you know that. She let you in, and then you go and destroy her all over again!”

“Stephanie, you have to believe that I'm sorry,” he said.

“Why would I believe anything you say right now?”

“That's why I'm calling you. I broke off the wedding.”

There was a moment of pause on her end.

“You did what?” she asked.

“I broke it off,” he said. “Even if I wasn't still in love with Addy – I don't want to marry Kenzie. I would never be happy because my time with her has passed; I've moved on from that. I'm in love with Addy, Steph.”

There was a long pause, and then she huffed a breath.

“You don't deserve her.”

“No, I don't,” he said, agreeing even though it stung. “You're right, I'm a fucking dog. But I'm a dog who is on the BQE right now, stuck in traffic, trying to get to the airport, with no hotel reservations or even luggage because I need to try to get her back. And I need your help.”

“Why would I help you?” she asked. “You're the one who screwed up in the first place.”

“Because this is my version of begging. If I were in San Francisco, I'd be on my knees. I want this that bad – I need this that bad, Steph.”

She paused again, and he was afraid she had hung up on him until she came back sighing again.

“What do you need?”

He smiled in a brief celebration; one brick wall was broken through.

“I don't know where she lives or where she's staying. I can't call her and ask. I need your help just getting her to answer the door, because I'm sure she's not going to do it on her own.”

“And let's say that you do show up on her doorstep apologizing,” she said. “What makes you think she's going to forgive you and take you back?”

“Maybe she won't, but that's a risk I have to take,” he said. “If I show up and she throws me out, at least I tried. But if I stay here, I don't even have a chance. I couldn't even say I tried.”

“Why now?” she asked. “Why – after the New Year's party and the kiss, after planning a wedding with Mackenzie, after your drunken display and the phone call--”

“You know about that?” he asked.

“Oh, I know about everything.”

He cringed at her evil tone; whatever he said that night, he would probably never live it down.

“After all this time, a whole month that you could have gone to her – why now?” she asked.

“Dogs need to be taught a lesson when they do something wrong,” he said with a smile, appealing to the part of her that loved hearing him insult himself.

It took a few seconds, but he heard her chuckle.

“Okay fine,” she finally said, her tone softened. “Here's the plan...”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Los Angeles – The next day

As the skyline of LA got closer, he grew more nervous. The insane delay in getting there had given him plenty of time to think – on the long flight to Vegas, in the hotel room he had to book to wait for his next flight in the morning, and now on the drive into the city.

If he showed up on her doorstep and she at least invited him in, he had a good chance that she would listen to him. But if he showed up and she slammed the door in his face immediately, which was a likely possibility, he had no idea how he would feel. Defeated, surely. The idea of it happening made him feel like his world might end, and he wasn't there yet. But all he could do was try.

His phone rang from the driver's seat where he had thrown it, and he reached over making sure to keep his eye on the road in front of him.

“Hello?” he said, switching immediately to speakerphone.

“The plan is in place,” Stephanie said, and he could hear traffic in the background on her end.

“Does she know?”

“She doesn't suspect a thing.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“She's right in the middle of packing her stuff,” Stephanie said. “She's been looking through old pictures, photo albums and mementos for like two days straight.”

“Is that good or bad?” he asked.

“Her vulnerability gives you maybe a ten percent better chance at this actually working,” she replied. “But if you end up getting your ass kicked, don't blame me.”

“I owe you my life for this, don't I?” he asked with a smile.

“Your firstborn child. And chocolate,” she said. “The finest Belgium your fat wallet can buy, pop star.”

He laughed. “I don't know if I've told you this, Steph, but thank you.”

“I'm glad you finally came around,” she said. “You know that I believe you two are meant to be together and I hope that she sees that. But I swear to God, if you screw up again Lance...”

“I know, you're going to kick my ass from here to China,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You'll have to get in line, Joey will probably be first.”

“How far away are you?”

He glanced over at the car's GPS system, where he had punched in the address Stephanie gave him.

“Twenty minutes,” he said.

“Perfect. I'll make my call.”

Suddenly, his overactive nerves kicked in.

“Good luck – and let's hope this works,” she said.

Chapter 28 – Crawling Back To You

Adeline closed the photo album she had spent the past thirty minutes looking through and packed it carefully into the top of the box with the rest of the albums. She still had almost two weeks before her arrangement with Marc was over, but she felt ready to start packing her stuff in the hopes of moving out even sooner. She had thought the extra time would be satisfying, but since Stephanie had left town to go back to San Francisco, the house only felt empty and lonely.

It wasn't the same as it used to be – but then, her life wasn't the same as it used to be either.

She picked another photo album off the bookcase in her bedroom and couldn't help but crack open the dusty cover when she sat on the bed. The dust meant it was the one she never touched – the sad one.

Old pictures greeted her when she reached the first page – her mother and father on their wedding day was the first. The picture was so old that by now it was torn and yellowed. A less-aged photo had hung in an ornate gold frame in their dining room for as long as she could remember; after her parents died, it hung in her bedroom at her grandmother's house. She remembered her mother's wedding dress always hanging in her grandmother's closet, and her never being allowed to touch it as a little girl, so she would stare at it and one day dream of wearing it at her own wedding.

She chuckled as she turned pages and came across a photo of her and her grandmother taken when she was only seventeen. It was taken a couple months before she graduated high school, and they had gone to the Jersey Shore to take advantage of the coming spring weather. They wore straw hats that were much too big for their heads and large Hollywood-style sunglasses, posing in their best “starlet” fashion and dreaming of the days that Adeline would be working for a starlet like that.

She laughed; in five years, she had never gotten the opportunity to work for a starlet. Instead, it seemed she had only ever worked for moody jerks. It was precisely the opposite of what her grandmother had ever wanted for Adeline and her career – and yet she couldn't imagine doing anything else with her life.

Her trip down memory lane was interrupted when her cell phone rang from the night stand. She closed the album and put it in the box, then jumped up to grab the phone, rolling her eyes when she saw Stephanie's name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“I'm about fifteen minutes away from your house,” she answered.

“You left a few days ago,” Adeline said. “Why are you coming into town to harass me again?”

“You try to help a friend out,” Stephanie replied. “I had a few days off and I was going to help you pack up the house and get things moved out.”

“I did hire movers, you know,” Adeline said. She continued grabbing things from the bookshelf and put them orderly into more boxes.

“Those cost money. I was trying to help you cut down on the cost by offering an extra pair of hands to get it done faster. You act like you don't want me around.”

“Act? Wow, I thought I was doing everything but saying it blatantly,” she responded.

“Come on. I'll take you out again...” Stephanie teased.

Adeline laughed. “Um, no. Thanks anyway.”

“I thought it went so well for you the other day?”

“He was sweet and everything...but I'm not ready,” Adeline answered.

“So...nothing happened?”

“Nothing I'd be ashamed to tell my mother.”

Adeline swore that when she finished her sentence, she heard Stephanie breathe a sigh of relief on the other end.

“That's a shame, he sounded like such a nice guy,” she said.

“I detect strong sarcasm,” Adeline said, but then she thought a moment. “Never mind, that's your normal tone of voice.”

As she finished clearing the bookcase, Stephanie kept her on the phone talking. It wasn't that she didn't love her friend, but she couldn't escape the feeling that she had something sneaky up her sleeve and it was the real reason for the extra trip. One-way, the drive was almost six hours. She couldn't imagine that Stephanie would make a trip that long to spend a couple days moving boxes and getting dirty and dusty.

She was working on folding clothes from her closet to put in separate boxes when she heard a knock on the door from downstairs.

“You're at my door and you're still on the phone?” she asked with a laugh. “You can hang up now.”

“Well, I don't want to miss your reaction.”

She raised an eyebrow as she headed down the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“Reaction to what? You showing up again uninvited?”

“No,” Stephanie said. “To your surprise.”

“What surprise?” She reached the carpet and walked through the living room to the door. “You're acting weirder than usual.”

The phone went silent as she reached the door and grabbed the doorknob, turning and pulling it in one swift motion. She expected to see Stephanie standing in front of her, probably with a suitcase full of clothes for another full visit.

But the last thing she expected to see standing there was him – dirty blonde hair and a pair of green eyes looking back at her. When she saw him, she was so shocked that she almost dropped the phone from her hands when they flew to cover her mouth. She took a step back as he stared at her silently.

“Surprise,” the woman on the other end of the phone said.

Adeline could only muster a breath of air that vaguely resembled a squeak as they stared each other in the eyes.

“I have to get back to work now, the traffic in San Fran is a bitch this afternoon,” Stephanie said in a mocking tone. “Call me when you're vocal again, lovely.”

Stephanie didn't wait for any acknowledgment, and Adeline didn't lower the phone from her ear until long after she heard the click on the other end. All she could do was stand in shock and look at him.

He stood awkwardly with his hands in his jean pockets. He didn't give her that cocky smile that she was so used to; instead, he was straight-faced.

“What are you doing here?” she said after a few moments, when she was able to remove her hand from her mouth and manage taking a breath of air.

“What I should have done a month ago,” he said.

He had hoped for a different reaction of course, but he wasn't surprised. He couldn't say that he blamed her; he was so nervous he could hardly keep his hands from shaking.

“I don't deserve it,” he said, “but do you think you could give me a chance to come inside and talk to you? Five minutes – then you can throw me to the curb.”

So many different thoughts went through her head at once. She hadn't expected his visit, she hadn't had the time to prepare for all the feelings she was experiencing – her immediate one being residual anger that made her want to slam the door in his face. In fact, the fear and nervousness of seeing him face-to-face after a month gave her that same reaction.

Then there was the part of her that felt the butterflies – the same ones she had felt the first time she had seen his face, the same ones she had felt when he taught her how to golf...the same butterflies she felt when he had proposed to her. They made her palms feel sweaty, her head go dizzy, and her legs go weak.

She wasn't sure she could throw him to her curb if she wanted to.

“I have to sit down,” she said.

She took in a deep breath and let it out, and without saying an inviting word, opened the door further and held it open for him – she could allow him in, but she couldn't look at him. She couldn't look him in the eyes yet.

He walked in slowly, afraid of what he was walking in to. He couldn't gauge her reaction to seeing him, especially when he noticed immediately that after her first eye contact with him, she couldn't look at him. She was shocked obviously, but he had no other visual cues to tell whether she was upset at seeing him. He thought he had rehearsed every possible reaction in his head on the way here, but now that he had arrived he couldn't remember a single one of them.

She closed the door when he walked through and went immediately to the couch – but instead of sitting like she had intended to do, she stood. She looked at the taupe carpet under her feet and bit her thumbnail, despite the fact that she thought she had broken that habit in coming back home. She was afraid – afraid of what the sight of him alone did to her. It had been a month and she didn't feel the same as she did the night she walked out on him. That night, she didn't want to give him a chance to talk, forgive him, or even stay with him. She had only wanted to leave, and in fact, she couldn't run out fast enough.

But now that he was back, and so unexpectedly...every recognizable feeling that she had felt when she first fell in love with him had come rushing back to her at once. She knew he had come back to apologize and ask for forgiveness, and it scared her to give it to him so easily when she had been burned already.

Standing in front of her, he could tell from her body language that she was conflicted – his appearance had thrown off her entire day. He searched for any indication of what he should do, but she was giving him nothing. She was totally blank, and it was something that he wasn't used to. It threw him off – he didn't know whether to ease into it slowly, or go immediately into the hands-and-knees scenario he had practiced.

“Addy,” he said, starting off slowly. He sighed, then cleared his throat. “I'm not going to stand here and tell you that what happened wasn't my fault. I know that's what you expect me to do because that's what I always do...”

“You stupid jerk.”

She spoke softly and slowly, and her lips showed so little movement that at first, he didn't know if he was possibly hearing wrong.

“What?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes.

“You...stupid...jerk!”

With every word she pushed him in the chest, sending him stumbling back towards the wall. She was angry; in fact, she was furious. When she had him pinned, she drew her whole body back and he braced himself for the punch that he was expecting.

Instead, she surprised him when she wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him into her, kissing him.

He was shocked, but he reciprocated, receiving her affection gratefully. His arms relaxed and immediately, he wrapped them around her waist.

But as soon as he started to pull her in towards him, she used her entire body to shove him away. When her lips disconnected from hers, she balled up her fists and with all her strength, she punched him in the forearm.

“Ow!” he cried, immediately drawing his arm in.

“I hate you!” she screamed at him.

“Has anybody ever told you that you're hot and cold?” he asked, rubbing his arm that still stung.

“Has anybody ever told you that you're an asshole?” she yelled at him. “You wait around for an entire month to come back and then when you do, you don't even give me any warning? Instead, you plot with my best friend, the reigning expert at sneaky plans, to trick me into thinking that I'm going to see her on my doorstep and then you...you...just show up!”

“Out of all the things that you could be mad at me for, that's the one you choose?” he exclaimed, half-amused.

When she balled up her fist and hit him in the arm again, he winced.

“I hate you, Lance! I hate you, you sneaky little bastard!”

“I'm sorry!” he said, and he couldn't help but finally laugh, especially seeing the look on her face. She was fuming, but despite it, she still had a hint of a smile on her face.

“I hate that I can't hate you at all,” she said, “because I love you too damn much. I think I'm more upset at myself than I am at you. And I hate you for that, too.”

“Hit me again.”

She looked at him with a bewildered expression.

“Hit me for that, too,” he said. “Addy, I deserve it. I'm an idiot. I was so stupid to let you walk out of my apartment like I did – and I can't blame you for being mad. If this is what you have to do, do it.” He held out his shoulder to her. “Hit me again.”

She smiled as he braced himself for another punch to the arm, and she shook her head at him in amusement, but lightly drew her arm back anyway. As her fist came within inches of his arm, he reached out his hand to grab her by the wrist and stop her.

“On second thought, maybe not,” he said with a smile. “You have a hell of a hook.”

She giggled as he used his grip on her wrist to pull, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling him towards her tightly.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

He lowered his lips to hers, but she looked up before they touched.

“What about Mackenzie?” she asked breathlessly.

“That's completely over,” he said. “What about your husband?”

“So over,” she said with a smile.

“Well...we're both on the same page then,” he told her, a hint of a smile coming to his lips. “Finally.”

“We still have a lot of talking to do,” she said.

“Yes we do,” he said.

He knew he would eventually have to explain the situation with Mackenzie, but that didn't matter now. He was done with the other woman, and she was done with Marc. Even though she wasn't sure of all her feelings, they could start over, without any outside interference. It felt...refreshing.

“Now?” he asked.

“Not now,” she said, pulling away from him. “I have other ideas.”

He reached out for her, sad that after so long without holding her she was pulling from him so soon. But she grabbed his hand.

“Now, we make up for lost time,” she said, pulling on his arm to pull her towards him as she walked. “And I have a little memory to leave for my husband in this house.”

His eyes narrowed, questioning her silently – but after she had led him a few steps towards the staircase, his eyebrows raised.

“Addy,” he drawled with a smile.

She only looked back at him and smiled as she took the first step up, dragging him along with her with little resistance.

“I told you I could be spontaneous...”

Epilogue – It's Not Over

May 2011 – Three months later

“Are you ready to order, miss?”

Stephanie looked up at the young waitress standing next to her, holding a pad and pen in her hands.

“Oh, my friend isn't here yet,” she said. “It may be a few more minutes.”

The waitress nodded and walked away, and Stephanie turned her head back toward the street. She checked her phone on the table again, looking at the clock that said 12:38. It wasn't like Adeline to a minute late for something, much less eight.

She hadn't seen her best friend since she had spent two weeks in LA. She had been so busy in those past three months that they had rarely even talked. They got to exchange text messages sometimes, but phone calls had been few and far between and five to ten minutes only, not long enough to catch up on much. She had no idea what had been going on in her friend's life lately.

She hardly gave the girl who had parked the Expedition in a spot across the street a second glance – until she looked a second time because she swore it looked like Lance's Expedition. It wasn't until she had crossed half the street that Stephanie noticed the girl in the flowery blouse and the jean shorts was Adeline.

Her mouth had dropped to the floor by the time Adeline stepped up to the table, a big smile across her face.

“Hey!” she said to Stephanie. “Sorry I'm late – lunch traffic.”

“You look amazing,” Stephanie said, standing up to give her a hug. “What the hell happened here? Where's the pencil skirts and the dress suits and the flats that you're so famous for?”

“My boss requests that I dress more 'sexy casual' now,” Adeline said with a laugh.

“He's such a pig,” Stephanie said, laughing. “Speaking of, how is he?”

“He's good. He would have come to lunch but he's busy moving things into our new apartment,” she said, sitting down in the chair across from Stephanie.

“You're moving into an apartment?”

“Well, staying in a hotel the past three months has been costly,” Adeline said. “And it doesn't look like this divorce will be a quick and easy one either, unfortunately. We may be here a while. It looks like Marc is going to drag it out as long as he can.”

“That sucks. I knew he was an asshole, but I guess he's showing his true colors.”

“Whatever,” Adeline responded with a carefree flip of her hand, which brought a smile to Stephanie's face. “At least I have Lance here with me. That's all that matters.”

“You're oddly laid back today,” Stephanie said. “Are you feeling alright? Did the real Adeline get kidnapped and replaced by an alien imposter?”

Adeline laughed. “No. My doctor put me on some medication for the anxiety. I'm feeling better than I have in months.”

“Doctor? I didn't even know you were going to a doctor.”

“Lance convinced me to go,” Adeline said. “I wasn't sure about it at first, but it's been good. The panic attacks are under control, I can be around people without my heart racing, and I find myself looking on the bright side again, for once.” She smiled. “I feel like I can finally breathe again, Steph.”

Stephanie was about to respond when the waitress came back to the table asking if they were ready to order again. They ordered drinks and their sandwiches, and handed the waitress the menus at the table before she walked off.

“So what brings you all the way out to Los Angeles?” Adeline asked when the waitress walked off. “You said you had some news to tell me?”

“That I do,” Stephanie said with a smile. “I quit my job.”

Adeline's eyes widened. “Should I be happy or sad?”

“Happy. I'm moving back to New York.”

Adeline let out a tiny squeal. “That's great! But who are you going to be working for now?”

“You might know him, his name is Joseph Fatone.” She smiled. “He called me up and said that he could use someone. He asked me if I knew anyone who was good at their job, competent and reliable. I told him that unless he wanted to steal you away from Lance, I didn't know anyone like that.”

Adeline laughed.

“But then I told him that I happened to know someone who was pretty decent and might be looking to move from her big time client to someone who was a little more familiar and close-to-home. He asked who, and I said 'Pope John Paul – what do you mean who? Me, silly!' I'll be moving in a few weeks.”

“I thought you loved San Francisco?”

“It's alright,” Stephanie responded. “But it's not all that it's cracked up to be. I'm closer to my sister, yes, but I still don't get to see her more often than I did when I lived in New York because I'm working all the time. And I miss you guys – you, Lance, Joanna...I miss my friends. Even if it's a while before you and Lance are able to come back to New York, it will still be nice to have something familiar around me.”

The waitress brought their drinks out to them and quickly left.

“So, you,” Stephanie said. “This sexy new look, and the new positive outlook on life – it's refreshing, Addy. It's nice seeing you like this.”

Adeline smiled, accepting the compliment from her friend.

“It's nice seeing you happy, getting away from Marc for good. I guess things are finally starting to get back to normal, huh?”

Stephanie noticed Adeline's smile fall.

“Yeah, I guess they are,” she said.

“Oh no – oh no, no, no,” Stephanie said. “The smile went away, the sexy confidence disappeared – what's wrong, sweetie?”

It was a few seconds before Adeline looked up at Stephanie to answer.

“It's probably nothing. Lance thinks it's all in my head – classic Adeline anxiety, overreacting to something I'm likely making up.”

“What does he think you're making up in your head?”

Adeline sighed. “I'm probably crazy. But...I feel like I'm being followed. All the time. Watched.”

“Watched?” Stephanie said. “You mean paparazzi? Get used to that, honey. You'll be the wife of a once-wildly-famous pop star. You might have more privacy if you sign for your own reality show.”

“No, Steph,” Adeline said. “Not the paparazzi. Somebody else.”

The waitress brought their plates, and the table went silent for a moment as the girls waited for her to leave.

“Who do you think is following you?” Stephanie asked after the waitress had walked off without a word. “And why do you think you're being followed?”

“I don't know,” Adeline said. “Like I said, I'm probably crazy. It's probably nothing.”

“It's not nothing if it's making you uncomfortable,” Stephanie said.

Adeline put a French fry in her mouth and shrugged.

“Well for one thing, I've been having these strange dreams. I'll be walking down a hallway by myself and I feel like someone is following me. Then I'll hear footsteps behind me. And I'll turn around, but there's no one there.”

“You know what that means?” Stephanie asked.

“What?”

“Your hotel room is haunted,” Stephanie said with a smile. “You sure you haven't been getting into Lance's old stash of Ambien?”

“You're so funny,” Adeline said as Stephanie laughed.

“If you start seeing dead people in the tub and telling them to get out, you've got a problem.”

“I shouldn't even have told you anything about it,” Adeline said. “He made the same joke.”

“I'm sorry,” Stephanie said, getting out one last chuckle. “I hate to be like Lance in any way, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to laugh about that again. It can't be only the dream that is leading you to believe this, right Addy? You're a little more reasonable than that.”

“I don't know,” Adeline said. “I can't help feeling that someone is keeping tabs on me.”

Adeline looked toward the street, and Stephanie saw the concerned look on her face as she looked around at the people walking down the sidewalk around the outdoor cafe. She looked at everyone and everything, including the trees and bushes, with suspicion.

“You aren't joking,” Stephanie said. “You're a hundred percent serious about this, aren't you?”

“Yeah, I am,” Adeline said.

“Have you told Lance any of this?”

“Some of it,” she said. “But he doesn't take me seriously. He thinks maybe it's a side effect of the medicine – the dreams and paranoia. After a while, I stopped bringing it up because I'm tired of being told I'm paranoid.”

“Well...did you talk to your doctor? Wouldn't he be able to tell you?”

“I brought it up, and he said that he's never heard of these kinds of side effects from this medicine, but that anything was possible. He kind of brushed it off, started talking about my past demons and how facing them could be making me feel like they're finally come up to the surface, 'following' me if you will. In psychologist speak – I'm making it up in my head.”

“All jokes about sleeping pills and crazy bathtub ghosts aside,” Stephanie said, “you do have ghosts, Addy. I mean, in the symbolic sense. It wasn't too long ago that you found out your husband was having you followed. I don't want to agree with anyone, I want to be open-minded, but isn't it possible that could be making you a little paranoid?”

“I suppose,” Adeline said. “I can't help feeling that this is only the beginning.”

“What do you mean, only the beginning?”

“I know I've been through a lot of stuff,” Adeline said. “My parents dying, then my grandmother, then my daughter; my marriage failing, a cross-country move, all this stuff with Lance...” She went quiet for a moment. “Now I'm throwing a long and possibly nasty divorce into my life and an engagement at the same time. I'm sure it's bound to add stress to my life that could have some mental side effects – but I don't think I'm imagining this, Stephanie. I don't think I'm crazy.”

“Not crazy that way, at least,” Stephanie said before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Even after the divorce is finally settled, and Lance and I can get back to our normal lives – I don't think it will end,” Adeline said. “I think it's only beginning. I have a feeling it's not over, and it won't be over for a long time.”

The two women went silent again, trying to avoid the tension that had suddenly surrounded them.

“You know, why are we even talking about this?” Adeline asked. Stephanie noticed that her demeanor and smile had perked back up and she wondered if it was a facade or the real thing. “You have to tell me how you decided to go work for Joey.”

“Well, one day he called me up completely out of the blue. He was all, 'Oh Steph, I miss you so much old buddy, what's been up lately?' It was weird, even for Joey. Anyway...”

Adeline chuckled as Stephanie went on with her story. It was nice visiting with Stephanie again after so long. If someone had asked her nine months ago if she would ever feel like this again – happy, whole, and in love – she would have answered no. She felt free, after so long feeling like she was only half a person – even if she couldn't ignore the chill that ran down her back from the presence of eyes watching her.