The following morning, at approximately five o'clock, someone calls to inform me that filming for the day has been canceled. And that, for my convenience, my car has been towed - at the production company's expense - to a spot just outside Justin's building. I'm told that I'll be contacted with the new schedule by tomorrow, and honestly, I'm relieved to have an extra couple of days of rest and recovery without having to deal with my car, the movie, or any of the complicated emotions the last twenty-four hours have brought up. Besides, Justin and I promised to go see Dad today.We arrive at the hospital together late in the afternoon. Like everyone else, I hate hospitals. But I love seeing my dad, even if he's only a shadow of the man he once was. There's still plenty of spark left in him. And I like being able to cheer up Mom, too.Justin and I don't really talk to each other as we head to Dad's room. We've made this visit together a dozen times before, and we ran out of comforting t

Orlando barely has time to straighten fully before I launch myself at him and throw my arms around his neck, squeezing tight. I kiss him on one cheek, then the other, then the first cheek again. I want to cover his face in kisses, but I pull back before I let myself do anything too inappropriate."Thank you," I tell him. "You have no idea what this means to us." I know I'm supposed to be angry, or at least slightly offended - my family never asked for his charity, and he did it without even a word to me - but I can't seem to muster even the tiniest bit of outrage. In fact, I'm pretty sure I feel tears welling up in my eyes, as embarrassing as that is.Orlando hasn't moved. He's so warm, so solid, and for a moment I'm overwhelmed by that delicious, manly scent of him. My heart is beating so fast that I wouldn't be surprised if he can feel it where our chests are pressed together. I want to hold onto him forever, to forget my despair of the last few days and weeks and months and lose m

The movies lie. They make it look so easy and empowering to walk away from the guy who gets your panties in a twist. In reality, you spend the whole time alternating between wanting to run back to him and berating yourself for being an idiot. I don't feel empowered at all. Just a little nauseated, actually. And sweaty, of course.The movies don't usually focus much on the time after the whole "walking away" thing, either - at least not enough to prepare me for the torture of the next couple of days. In the movies, the girl makes her big exit, then she waits smugly for the man to realize what he has to lose. One grand romantic gesture later, and the two of them are free to live happily ever after.In reality, the girl doesn't feel so smug. In fact, she probably eats an entire sleeve of sandwich cookies by herself. And tries to distract herself with hours of cute puppy videos online. And then replays their one toe-curling kiss over and over again in her head until she's so tingly that

The set is controlled chaos, as usual. I stand near the windows, my eyes searching the bustling crowd for Orlando. I don't see him, but I do spot Omar Walson sitting in a canvas chair off to the side. Next to him is his new costar, Christian Tremont.Christian, all things considered, bears many similarities to Ford - height, build, brown hair. But while Ford had the too-polished look of a game show host, Christian is a little more rugged around the edges. His teeth aren't nearly as white, his face not as perfectly symmetrical, but somehow those imperfections make him far more attractive.Omar and Christian chat quietly with each other, and though I consider creeping closer and eavesdropping on them, I don't get the chance. Just as I take a step in their direction, Orlando's voice carries through the lobby."Okay, everyone. We've got a long day ahead of us, so let's get this started."My heart leaps at the sound of his voice. I turn, scanning the crowd for him, and that fist-squeezi

My approach ends up being fairly simple.I avoid speaking with Orlando the rest of the day. Avoid even looking at him. As far as I'm concerned for the time being, he doesn't even exist.But I'm overly friendly with everyone else. I chat with the crew, even if it's just asking about how certain pieces of equipment work. Between takes, I talk to Omar and Christian. Omar seems more interested in his phone than in holding a conversation, but Christian is willing to speak with me. He throws a few wary glances toward Orlando the first time, but to my disappointment - and Christian's obvious relief - our director isn't intending to charge over here every time a man talks to me, despite his earlier behavior.Damn it, I think as Christian tells me about some upcoming project he's excited about. I was hoping this would be enough. It's really, really hard not to look around for Orlando, to see if he's watching us. It would be encouraging if he were glaring or something.As the day wears on, t