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The following evening found me a wreck, trying to figure out what to wear, and how to fix my hair. I sat in front of the bathroom mirror for a good 15 minutes, staring at myself and imagining different looks. I finally decided on just leaving my hair down, and curling it with hot rollers. The dress I’d brought suddenly seemed all wrong, but I figured it would have to do. It was a deep royal blue, not too fancy, with wide straps at the shoulders and no sleeves, and a wrap-around top that crossed over my breasts, over an a-line skirt that came to just above my knees.

When I had finally finished grooming myself, I went into the bedroom to put on my matching sandals with the inch-and-a-half heel, and to grab my clutch purse. As I was sitting on the bed, fastening my sandals, Orlando came back into the suite. He’d gone to a brief meeting with his publicist and management team before we had to go.

“You look stunning,” he said, kissing me as he sat down beside me.

“I didn’t want to embarrass you,” I said, standing up and smoothing my dress. I went to the dresser and put on my silver hoop earrings, then turned to look at him. He was beautiful, in black slacks, a dark grey satin, button-up, collared shirt, and a black jacket. He’d pulled his hair back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. I was tempted to just rip the outfit right off him and keep him in the room all night, but I knew I couldn’t.

“Do you approve?” he teased, after I’d stared just a bit too long.

I smiled and went over to him, kissing him gently. “Definitely,” I said, my forehead against his. His arms circled around me and pulled me down onto his lap. “Careful or you’ll ruin my make-up,” I said playfully. I kissed him again.

A knock on the door startled us both. I got up and went back into the bathroom to touch up my lipstick, while Orlando answered it. When I came out into the sitting room, Kirsten Dunst was sitting on the sofa. I stopped dead in my tracks.

“You must be Charlie,” Kirsten said, rising and offering me her hand. “I’m Kirsten.” I was glad to see she was sweet. I’d never met a famous actress before, and I must say, I was a little intimidated.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. Orlando was sitting in the chair beside the sofa, beaming at me. “Great dress,” I said. Her dress was very 1920’s-flapper style, black, sleeveless, loose-fitting, with beautiful embroidery and beading on the chest and the lower part of the skirt, and a gold rope belt with tassels hanging from it tied just below her hips. Her blond hair was cut in a short bob, framing her face. She was beautiful. I suddenly felt like a troll standing next to her.

“Thanks,” she said, sitting down again. “We were just working out our entrance.”

“The easiest way to do this is to have you ride in the limo with us, and then we’ll get out at the front, and the car will drive you around and you can meet someone from my team at the back,” Orlando said. “They’ll seat you in the theatre, and we’ll be in as soon as we get through the red carpet stuff. Is that okay?”

I nodded. “That’s fine,” I said. “I couldn’t handle all the noise the girls will make anyway.”

“It does get a little bit loud sometimes,” Kirsten agreed. “Especially when Orlando is around.”

I laughed. “I can see that. My younger cousin just about wet herself when I brought him to dinner the other night. I think it’s really cute that they love him that much.”

Orlando got up and came over to me, a goofy grin on his face. “They do,” he whispered, seemingly oblivious to Kirsten still being in the room. “But do you?”

I blushed. We hadn’t talked about love yet, and I thought it was too soon to even think about it. I looked into his eyes, and knew that I felt something for him, but I couldn’t tell just yet what it was, other than lust.

I kissed him briefly. “You’re horrible,” I teased, trying to take the seriousness away. It was not the time to get into that.

“Okay, before you two need to be hosed down, we should go,” Kirsten said, standing and going to the door. She grinned as Orlando took my hand and we went down to the car.

When we pulled up in front of Roy Thompson Hall, where Elizabethtown was being screened, there were literally thousands of people, mostly female, lining the streets. The car had to slow down to avoid hitting the overzealous fans who wanted to see which celebrity was riding in it. Luckily, the windows were blacked out, or we would have been mobbed.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked Orlando as he squeezed my hand.

“It’s nothing new, love, don’t worry about it,” he said, kissing my cheek. Kirsten had already grabbed her purse and was waiting to get out as the car rolled to a stop in front of the red carpet. “They’ll tell you where to go when you get to the back, okay?” He handed me a laminated card that said “Guest” on it. “Show them that, tell them who you are, and they’ll take you to your seat. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Be careful,” I said as he kissed me again and got out of the car. The roar was deafening as the girls caught their first glimpse of him. I turned around to watch him go up the red carpet as the car pulled slowly away. He was so confident, all smiles as he stopped and signed autographs and gave hugs. I suddenly felt very proud that he’d be going home with me that night.

Some time later, I was in my seat about half way up the rows of seats in the theatre, waiting for Orlando and Kirsten to show up. People were starting to trickle in, and I kept glancing over my shoulder to see if Orlando was one of them. I saw a few famous faces, and at any other time I would have been star-struck, but I just wanted to know that Orlando was safe and sitting beside me, preferably holding my hand.

“It was a madhouse out there,” someone said as he sat next to me. I turned to see who it was and almost dropped my champagne. Cameron Crowe, the director of Elizabethtown, and so many other movies I loved, was in the seat beside me, and he’d just spoken to me. I hadn’t seen him come in, so this was totally unexpected.

Luckily, I recovered my composure fairly quickly. “Yes, it was,” I agreed, smiling.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked as I looked over my shoulder again.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, blushing. I hadn’t meant to be that obvious.

“Who? Maybe I saw them.”

“Orlando, actually,” I said.

“Are you Charlie?”

“Yes,” I said. “How did you know?”

“I heard that he wanted an extra seat for his friend Charlie,” Cameron said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server. “To be honest, I was expecting a man.”

I laughed. “Common mistake,” I said. “It’s short for Charlotte. I can’t wait to see the movie, Mr. Crowe.”

“Cameron.”

“Cameron,” I repeated, smiling again.

“It’s still a bit long, but hopefully the screening here will help me figure out what to do with it,” he said. “Orlando and Kirsten are fabulous, though, so it seems like a shame to cut anything they’ve done.”

“Anything who’s done?” Kirsten asked as she flopped down beside Cameron. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, and she looked exhausted and a little frazzled.

“You and Orlando,” Cameron said. “We were just talking about the movie.”

“Is Orlando coming soon?” I asked. They had been together when I left them, so I was starting to wonder now that she was here and he wasn’t.

“He’ll be along in a minute or two,” she said, sipping her champagne. “He doesn’t like saying no to the fans.”

I smiled. That sounded like him.

The three of us chatted quietly for a few more minutes, until Orlando finally came down the aisle and sat next to me. He, too, looked pretty worn out.

“Their energy is amazing,” he said as he kissed my cheek and took off his jacket. “I see you met everyone.” He grinned.

“You’ve got quite the movie buff on your hands, here, Bloom,” Kirsten said, winking at me.

“So I’ve heard,” he said, slipping his arm around my shoulders. “I’m trying not to hold that against her, though.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” I said, poking him in the side. “You love it.”

“I know,” he said, nodding. He kissed me again.

The lights began to dim, and anyone who was standing hurried to their seats. I snuggled against Orlando, and put my head on his shoulder when the room was dark. I was excited to see the movie, but I was more excited to be sitting with the stars and the director. I fought the urge to pinch myself.

The movie itself was beautifully done, with lots of heart. I loved Kirsten’s character, Claire, because she was so up-beat, and Orlando did a wonderful job with Drew, and I loved his American accent. By the end of the movie, I had tears rolling down my face, and I was so happy to see Drew and Claire end up together. When the lights came up, I dashed my tears away quickly, hoping that no one saw them.

“What did you think?” Orlando asked as we watched the credits roll.

“It was fantastic,” I whispered back, squeezing his arm. “Really beautiful.” I didn’t want to stand up, I didn’t want the magic to be over.

Orlando pulled me to my feet as everyone around us began rising and exiting the theatre. He hugged me tightly.

“Tears, huh?” he said into my ear. “Come on, now, I wasn’t that bad, love.”

I laughed. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” I said, a tingle shooting through me as he nuzzled my neck. “But really, it was very good, I’m so proud of you.”

When we went to leave the theatre a few seconds later, Cameron and Kirsten were already gone. Orlando took my hand and led me to the back entrance, where I had come in.

“I’ve got to go back out front for a bit, love,” he said, his arms around my waist. “The car will take you back to the hotel, and I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Do you want me to have dinner brought up?” I asked. We hadn’t eaten yet, and I was starving.

“Yeah, ring room service and order whatever you want,” he said. “Have it brought up in about an hour and a half. I should be back by then.” He looked down at me and smiled. “So you really liked it?”

“I did,” I said, squeezing him to me. The feel of him against me was almost too much and I had to step back slightly. “It was nice to see you without a sword,” I teased. He’d told me that one of his favourite things about Elizabethtown was the fact that it was modern, and not another costume drama or period piece.

He captured my mouth with his and gave me a lingering kiss. There weren’t many people around in the back of the theatre, where we were, so it was okay for me to kiss him back, which I did, greedily.

“I have to go,” he said a few second later, pulling away. “But we’ll finish that later, okay?” He winked.

I nodded. “We’d better,” I said. One more brief kiss and I was whisked away into the limo again, while he went to take care of his obligations.

When Orlando returned to the hotel about an hour later, I was curled up in the sitting room with my Wicked script, waiting for dinner to arrive.

“Don’t you look cute,” Orlando said as he took off his jacket and went into the bedroom. I had my little girl pajamas on again, the pink fleece ones he’d commented on the first night he’d stayed over. My hair was still curled, but I’d piled it in a messy bun on my head, and it was everywhere. I’d also taken off my make-up, so I was essentially ready to crawl into bed. Hopefully I’d get to crawl in with him.

“How’d it go?” I asked, setting my script aside and following him into the bedroom.

He was sitting on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. I settled on my knees beside him and helped. “I think I’m officially deaf,” he said, sitting back and letting me finish the buttons. He seemed so tired, so worn out. “But I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.”

“Must be nice having people screaming your name and wanting nothing more than to talk to you or touch you,” I said, sliding to the floor so I could take off his shoes and socks. I looked up at him. “You’re pretty incredible, you know that?”

He smiled gently down at me, and caressed my cheek with his hand. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he whispered.

“I mean it, Orlando,” I said, sitting up on my knees and leaning on his legs. “The way you treat your fans is wonderful. I mean, there are some stars in this world who don’t give their fans the time of day, but you go out of your way to make sure every picture is signed and every girl gets a hug. It’s really sweet.” I paused. “And unbelievably sexy.”

“Without the fans going to see my movies, I wouldn’t have a career, now would I, love?” he said, sliding his hands up into my hair and dislodging my bun. The curls fell in waves around my shoulders and he threw my hair elastic on the floor. “But I don’t want to think about that now, okay?” He leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss over my lips. “You really are so beautiful, Charlie,” he said, his eyes shining down at me.

I stood up and began unbuttoning my pajama top, revealing only skin underneath. His eyes went from brown to black as he watched, and before long, he was reaching out to me and pulling me down on top of him on the bed, his hands straying inside my clothing. Seeing him tonight with his fans, and watching him on-screen, had made him even more irresistible to me, and I wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of his skin against mine, to taste his kisses and let our bodies take over.

Unfortunately, before we could get too far, there was a knock at the door. I sat up and buttoned my shirt again. “Room service,” I said, going to answer the door, leaving Orlando laying flat on his back on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face. I signed the slip the waiter handed me, tipped him, and took the cart of food back into the room. Orlando hadn’t moved.

“Are you coming to eat?” I called, lifting the lids on the silver serving dishes.

“Horrible timing,” he said as he came into the sitting room, his shirt still undone, his beautiful chest and stomach still on display. “Can’t we eat this stuff later?”

“A girl’s gotta eat,” I said, handing him a plate. “Man can’t exist on sex alone, silly.” I began loading his plate with the Fettuccini Alfredo and garlic bread that I’d ordered. I put some grilled chicken strips on his plate as well, and shooed him to the table by the mini bar. I poured us both some wine and set the glass in front of him, then sat down with my own, chicken-free, plate.

“Charlie, can we talk about something?” Orlando said quietly as we ate. He wasn’t really eating his food, he was just pushing it around on the plate.

“Of course,” I said, trying to keep the mood light. He’d sobered very quickly and I wasn’t sure what to expect. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I wasn’t kidding earlier,” he said, looking at me finally, a very earnest expression on his face.

“I’m not following,” I said, setting down my fork. I figured we weren’t going to be eating during this conversation. “When weren’t you kidding?”

“When you said my fans love me and I asked if you do.”

“Oh, that.” I didn’t know what to say. I’d thought he was fooling around, that he wasn’t really serious. A knot began to form in my stomach and I really didn’t want to talk about this.

“I was thinking about it earlier, and it’s not something we’ve talked about,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “I think we need to.”

“Why?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“It’s pretty important, wouldn’t you say?”

“Orlando, we’re not dealing with love here,” I said, getting up to pace the room. I couldn’t sit still, there was too much nervous energy flowing through me. I didn’t know if this would end well.

“Then what are we dealing with?”

“Lust!” I said, exasperated. “At least, that’s what I always thought this was. I thought we’d have our fling and then it would be done, over, finished. If you’ve got other ideas, I’m sorry, but it’s never really crossed my mind.”

“You saw sex between us, and nothing more?” He looked hurt.

“Not exactly,” I said, sitting on my knees beside his chair and stroking my fingers over his thigh. I thought being close to him would soften the blow. “I mean, I care about you, you’re a great person, but realistically, should we be thinking about love?”

“What about the intensity of the feelings we talked about before?” he said, caressing my head lightly. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “But I never thought about loving you, and I never wanted to.” I paused. “Why is this coming up?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute or two, just kept stroking my hair. “I saw how well you fit into my world tonight, how willing you were to just sit back and let me do what I needed to do,” he said finally. “I didn’t expect that. And when you came out of the bathroom, all dressed up, something shifted inside me. I care about you more than I thought I would, love, and it’s not going to go away.”

I looked up at him. It had been three days, but I knew exactly what he meant. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more powerful, it did, and as much as I tried to ignore it, I knew there was more between us than lust. I also knew I was in serious trouble.

“Unfortunately, it has to,” I said, reaching up to run my fingers over his cheek. “Let’s not go through that again, we know what’s coming, we know it has to end. Why do we need to make it hurt even more?”

“That’s just it, Charlie,” he said, pulling me up into his arms. “The fact that the end hurts is what tells me there’s more here than you’re willing to admit. Bloody hell, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything, I just want you to be honest with me about what you’re feeling.”

I tightened my arms around him, not wanting to let go. He’d become more dear to me than I’d wanted, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. “Orlando, listen to me, okay? I care about you, I really do, but love? Not yet, and to be honest, I’d hoped not ever. I know that’s harsh, but I can’t help it, I’m not in a place in my life right now where I can love you the way I want to. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Fair to who, Charlie?” he said, almost angrily.

“To either of us,” I said, pushing away from him. “Think about it, it’s just not worth the endless separations, the stolen days between commitments, the worry, the stress. Jesus, Orlando, I can’t be the only rational one here. Help me out a bit.”

“But that’s the thing, Charlie,” he said, his tone softening. “Love isn’t rational, and it’s not supposed to be easy. Do you really think it’s not worth all that shit?”

“I can say now that it would be, but until we’ve gone through it, I can’t know, can I?” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “I just don’t want to end up hating you because we couldn’t make it work. It’s so much easier to walk away, even if it hurts. At least then the memories won’t be tainted.” A single tear rolled down my cheek and I fought every urge to dash it away. I closed my eyes as Orlando lightly wiped it himself.

“Darling, think about this,” he said, hugging me very tightly to him. He leaned back and looked down into my eyes. “I’m not asking you to love me.”

“Yes, you are.” I couldn’t help but cut him off.

“No, love, I’m not,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “I’m asking you to think about what we could be if you’d just let us. Who knows? I just know that when I’m with you, I feel so good, so right, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time. I think I’m falling in love with you, Charlie. Please don’t stop it before it really gets started.”

“Orlando, I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” I said, more tears spilling over and running down my face. I was glad I’d taken off my make-up. “I feel like now I have to make a choice, like I have to choose between you and my career, my dreams. It feels like I can’t have both.”

“But you can,” he said, cupping my face in his hands. “Charlie, look at me. Being with me doesn’t mean giving up your dreams, love, it doesn’t. It means trying something new, and maybe putting up with a bit of time apart for now. I want you to go and be on Broadway, to be in the show you’re so right for, to make all of your dreams come true. I just want to be there with you, to share it with you, and for you to experience my success with me. It’s not a choice, Charlie, it’s a decision, a decision to take what you want and run with it.”

I smiled through my tears. “That was pretty good, Orlando,” I said, teasing him. “Did you rehearse that one?”

He grinned. “Nope, I shot from the hip there.” He sobered. “Seriously, though, Charlie, we can do this.”

I wanted to agree, to say that we could, but something kept telling me not to. He was passionate and intense, and sweet, and caring, and everything I’d thought was impossible to find, especially after Ramsey. He didn’t hit, he didn’t cheat, as far as I knew, and he wanted to be with me. So what was my problem? Why couldn’t I just go with it and see what happened? Why couldn’t I see everything as black and white? I smirked as I thought of Elizabethtown, and Drew’s admission that maybe things really were black and white.

“I can’t make this decision right now,” I said finally, through my tears. “Orlando, I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

He kissed me then, hard and fast, and I could feel the wetness on my face as his tears mingled with my own. I wasn’t sure what it would accomplish, but I kissed him back, I let him take me into the bedroom, and I let him throw me on the bed, simply because I was too shocked to do anything else. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t gentle either, and afterwards, I wasn’t quite sure what had happened. My body was satisfied, he’d made sure of that, but my mind was racing. I rolled over, away from Orlando, and stared into the darkness while he slept, until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, and I drifted off myself.