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Later that day, Orlando was flipping channels on the television and I was curled up beside him with my script, when the phone rang. I reached across him, giggling when he nipped my ear on the way by, and grabbed the cordless on the end table beside the sofa.

“Hello?” I said, settling back in my seat, ignoring the rush of warmth that shot through me when his teeth had grazed my skin.

“Charlie?”

“Oh, hi Dad,” I said, getting up and going into my bedroom. “How are you?”

“Find, dear,” he said, though he sounded very tired. “I just wanted to see if you were coming to Aunt Tess’s birthday dinner tonight. You weren’t sure last time I asked you about it.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. I’d totally forgotten the dinner, I have to admit. “I don’t think I can make it tonight, Dad,” I said, sitting on my bed. Though Tess was my favourite aunt, I didn’t want to leave Orlando all alone for the night. It seemed rude.

“Charlotte, you know she’ll want you to be there,” Dad said, his voice stern. “This may be your last family gathering before you go away.”

“I know, but something came up,” I said, not really wanting to tell my father that Orlando Bloom was staying with me for a few days. Somehow I knew it wouldn’t go over very well.

“Something more important than family?” He sighed. “Charlotte, I must say, I’m disappointed in you.”

I cringed. He’d used my full name twice in ten seconds. “Um, okay, let me see what I can do,” I said, giving in. I hated his disappointment in me. I couldn’t handle it, truth be told. I was Daddy’s Little Girl, and anything other than pride and affection from him was just unacceptable. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”

“That’s better.”

We hung up. I stared at the phone for a minute, trying to decide what to do. Orlando wasn’t due in Toronto until the following day, and I wasn’t sure what to say to him. It really did seem rude to leave him alone in a strange city while I went to a family event.

“Who was that?” Orlando asked as I sat down next to him again. The Simpsons was playing quietly on the
TV.

“My dad,” I said, tucking my feet up under me. “He wanted to remind me of my aunt’s birthday dinner tonight, to make sure I’m going.”

“Sounds like fun,” Orlando said, turning off the TV. “What time should we be there?”

I stared at him, a blank expression on my face. “We?” I said, not quite sure that I’d heard him right.

“Am I not invited?” he asked, slightly surprised.

I didn’t know what to say. I knew Aunt Tess wouldn’t mind if I brought him along, but I wasn’t quite sure how to explain him to my family, namely, my dad. I felt like such a teenager, wanting to ask for permission to bring a friend to a gathering. I smiled.

“I didn’t think you’d want to go,” I said, squeezing his arm gently. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem, but let me run it by my dad, okay?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

I called Dad back, and as I waited for him to answer, I kept running through my mind how exactly to bring up the idea. When he finally answered, I figured a direct approach was probably best.

“Dad, do you think Aunt Tess would mind if I brought a friend?” I asked, as Orlando watched intently.

“I don’t think it would be a problem, Charlie,” he said. “I’m sure she’d love to meet her. Who are you bringing?”

I felt my face heat up as I answered, “Uh, his name’s Orlando. He’s staying with me for a few days. On the couch,” I added, feeling guilty.

Dad didn’t say anything for a minute. “Is this a new boyfriend, Charlie?” he asked finally.

“Not, uh, not exactly,” I said, looking at Orlando. He gave me a questioning look. “He’s just a friend, really.”

“Do you think it’s appropriate to bring a man to your aunt’s party?” There was that stern voice again. I swear, my dad has the ability to make me feel all of 15 again. “Especially a man who’s not your boyfriend?”

“Well, I can’t exactly leave him here,” I said, starting to get slightly annoyed. I really didn’t need the third degree about having a male friend. “He’s from out of town, he doesn’t know anyone here, and it would be rude to just leave him, wouldn’t you say?” If my father had taught me anything, it was good manners.

“I suppose.” He paused. “Charlie, I’m not trying to give you a hard time, you know that. I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“He’s a friend who needed a place to crash for a few days, that’s all,” I said, not mentioning the fact that I had trouble keeping my hands to myself when he was around. Somehow I doubted that would fit my Daddy’s Little Girl image. “So what time should we be there?” I changed the subject, feeling I was on dangerous ground. I didn’t want to out and out lie to my father.

“Dinner is at eight, at Aunt Tess’s,” Dad said, letting the change go. I was grateful. “Bring a bottle of wine or champagne, dear, and a card, okay?”

“Sure, I’ve already got the card, and I’ll get the champagne on the way. I’ll see you tonight.” I hung up.

“That was uncomfortable,” Orlando said when I put the phone down. “He really gave you the third degree, didn’t he?”

I smiled and pushed a piece of hair gently off his forehead. “After Ramsey, he gets a little antsy when I have men around. He doesn’t quite trust my judgment anymore, and I can’t really say as I blame him.”

“Ramsey was that bad, huh?”

I nodded. “He was a train wreck after awhile. At first, he was sweet, and everyone liked him, but then he started getting drunk when the family got together, and he made some rather rude comments to my dad and some of my other relatives. He even hit on my 16-year-old niece, if you can believe it.”

“I can believe it,” Orlando said, nodding. “Well, Charlie, love, I promise to be the perfect gentleman, okay?”

I smiled. “I never had any doubts about that.” I leaned over and kissed him quickly on the mouth. “It’s almost six now, we had better get ready. Dinner’s at eight, so we should be there around seven-thirty, and I still need to get the champagne.” I jumped up off the couch and went into my bedroom, leaving Orlando to paw through his suitcase in the living room.

An hour later, we left the apartment, dressed to kill. Orlando had pulled on grey slacks with a fine white pinstripe, a deep navy button-down, collared shirt, and he’d pulled his hair back in a loose ponytail that I thought was unbelievably sexy. I dressed up as well in black dress pants, a black tank top, and a white lace over-shirt with a collar, that showed the black tank underneath. I left my hair down, parted to one side and tucked behind my ears, with silver hoops for earrings. A pair of black, square-toed heels completed my look. The weather was still warm, as it was only the beginning of September, so we left our jackets at home. We picked up the champagne, and we were on our way.

We took Orlando’s rented car, since my aunt lives half an hour away and I don’t own a vehicle. I sat back and watched him drive, giving him directions as we went. When we were finally on the 401 highway, he put his hand on my knee and grinned over at me. I couldn’t help but stare at him.

“What’s that look for?” Orlando asked as he squeezed my knee gently.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” I said, covering his hand with my own. “I love watching men drive.”

“Why’s that?”

I adjusted my position so I was almost facing him, and laid my head back on the seat. “I don’t know, really,” I said. “I think it’s about confidence. You look so in control behind the wheel, so sure of yourself. I’m a nervous wreck when I have to drive, so it’s a nice change. Kind of sexy, actually.” I grinned.

“Oh really?” he said, glancing over at me. His hand moved every so slightly up my leg. “Well, Ms. Madison, I aim to please.”

I was hard-pressed not to tell him to pull over right there. The look in his eyes as he glanced at me, and the feel of his hand just above my knee made me weak. I knew I was in serious trouble if that didn’t stop before we got to my aunt’s.

“I think we need to ban looks like that tonight,” I said, only half serious. “My dad is seriously over-protective, and he’ll rip your head off if he catches you looking at me like that. We’re just friends, remember?”

“Are we?” he asked, sobering.

“In his eyes, yes,” I said. “Somehow I don’t think ‘I’m the guy who wants to do your daughter’ is a good approach for you to take at this thing.” I laughed. “Keep it light and casual.”

He nodded. “So who’s sister are we visiting?” he asked. “Your mum’s or your dad’s?”

“Dad’s,” I said. “We don’t see my mom’s family as much anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

I swallowed. My mom was still a very tender subject with me, but he didn’t know that, really. “Uh, when my mom died, we just didn’t go to their family things anymore. My dad found it too hard to be there without her, you know? I see them every once in awhile, but usually only for Christmas.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, switching lanes on the highway. Our exit was only a few miles up the road. “I can’t imagine losing someone like that. I mean, my dad died when I was young, but I wasn’t old enough to really appreciate what that meant. If I lost my mum or my sister, I’d be a basketcase.”

I didn’t say anything, just stared out the window at the passing traffic. Tears were welling in my eyes, and I didn’t want to cry. I hadn’t cried very much since Mom died, and I didn’t want to start now. It just wasn’t the right time.

“Charlie, love, are you okay?” Orlando asked after a short silence. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s okay, really.” I shifted again in my seat.

“So what is your aunt like?” he asked, clearly trying to get back to a less painful subject. “You said she’s your favourite.”

“Yes, she is,” I said. I spent the rest of the ride telling him all about my Aunt Tess, and trying to prepare him for the Madison family. The poor guy didn’t know what he was in for.

We ended up having to park a block away when we arrived at Aunt Tess’s, since the street and her driveway were packed with cars. I grabbed the bottle of champagne and guided Orlando through the cars up to the house.

“Aunt Tess?” I called as I opened the door. There were fifteen or so pairs of shoes piled in the small entrance hall, so I kicked mine off and stepped over the rest. Orlando did the same. I smiled at him. “Are you ready for this?” I teased, handing him the champagne.

He nodded and grinned. “Women love me, remember?”

“Women may, but don’t get your hopes up about my dad,” I said, somewhat seriously. “Here goes nothing.”