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Chapter 1--Enter the hero

Posted on Friday, 4 May 2001

A boy doesn't have to go to war to be a hero; he can say he doesn't like pie when he sees there isn't enough to go around.
~ Edgar Watson Howe ~

He caught the eye of every female in the café when he entered, all long and lean and tan, wearing a white T-shirt, a pair of well-worn jeans, and a casual smile. His eyes narrowed speculatively as he glanced around the room, running a hand through his short, tousled, bleached blonde hair.

'He's probably meeting his girlfriend.' Rebecca scowled as she passed Anne at the counter. 'No way is he single.'

'He's probably gay.' Lindsey mouthed, coming towards Anne with a heavily loaded tray. 'He hasn't even noticed Elizabeth. What a shame if he is...he's gorgeous.'

'He's not bad.' Anne murmured filing through a stack of receipts and pretending that she hadn't noticed his beautiful smile.

'He's probably looking for a free meal.' Elizabeth muttered, punching her code into the register. 'Did you see his jeans? I think we should kick him out.'

'We're on the edge of summer, Liz, and it's a Saturday. This is only a coffee shop, as much as I know you like to pretend it's the café at the Ritz.' Anne smiled. 'Actually, I think he looks rather nice. Lindsey is already in love.'

'Lindsey would fall in love with a chicken if it gave her the time of day. But suit yourself.'

The young man lingered at the magazine rack for a while, moved to the book shelf, and finally selected a copy of The New York Times. He chose a small table by the window, and ordered Darjeeling tea and a blueberry scone from Elizabeth. Anne could tell her sister was fighting the urge to ask him to pay for it up front.

He sat, reading, for half an hour, occasionally glancing up from the paper to scan the café. He was obviously waiting for someone. Once, his eyes met Anne's, and he gave her a lopsided smile and shrugged.

When it was obvious that whomever he was planning to meet was not going to show, he waved to Elizabeth. With unmistakable coldness, she slapped the bill on the table. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a wry smile.

'Long day?'

'You have no idea.'

'Me too. I was supposed to meet someone.'

'She stood you up.' Elizabeth's eyes said that she thought he deserved it.

'Apparently he has.'

'See, I told you. Gay.' Lindsey hissed to Anne as they leaned over the counter, trying to listen subtly.

'Love the British accent.' Anne replied, only to be shushed by Lindsey.

'Pity,' Elizabeth shrugged, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 'And you got yourself all dressed up for the occasion, too.'

The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. 'I do what I can.'

'And an impressive effort it was.' Elizabeth replied coldly, eyeing the ragged cuffs of his jeans.

'It makes little difference anyway, since I'm apparently going to be free for the evening.' He paused, slipping a napkin into the travel guide. 'Would you like to keep me company? I wouldn't mind being forgotten if it resulted in a date with a beautiful woman.'

Lindsey gave Anne a wide-eyed, hungry glance. I was wrong!

Anne laughed. "Let Liz finish with him before you move in."

It was obvious that the young man was enjoying baiting Anne's sister tremendously. It was just as clear that Elizabeth was going not going to give him any mercy.

'Tell me you are studying to be a stock broker, or a lawyer, or British nobility on vacation.' Elizabeth drawled smoothly, beginning to clear the table.

'I'm an actor.' He replied evenly. 'I can be anything you want me to be.'

The cheap pick-up line was his attempt at making her laugh. Unfortunately, it failed. 'An actor,' she sighed dramatically. 'You must be very successful, to be playing the illustrious stages of Somerset, Massachusetts.'

'Not yet, but I'm hopeful. I have an internship with the great stage directors, Thomas Hassan. He has a summerhouse in Monkford. He has just begun work on a new production.'

'Lucky you. Is he the one you were supposed to meet? He must really value you to have sent you to this classy joint and to have forgotten all about you.'

He shrugged. 'Something must have come up. Can I meet you for a drink later?'

'Are you kidding?' Elizabeth cooed, running her finger along his jaw. 'As-if-I-have-anything-to-gain.'

He was silent for a moment, staring at her.

'I have my answer then.' He smiled. 'Well, thank you, that was a very inspiring performance, Elizabeth.' He picked up his bill, gave Elizabeth one last amused glance, and strolled to the counter.

'Ladies.' He said, twinkling as he handing the bill to Anne.

'Did you enjoy your visit, sir?' Anne asked, struggling to contain her laughter.

'Oh yes, immensely.' He drawled.

'Don't mind Elizabeth. She only goes for blue-bloods with country club memberships and bloodlines that date back to Plymouth Rock.' Lindsey gushed, smiling sweetly.

'Linds!' Anne hissed, blushing. She sent Lindsey back to work, then turned back to face him. 'I'm sorry. Lindsey didn't mean to offend you. As for Elizabeth...I'm not sure she meant to, either. She can get a little carried away, sometimes.'

'No offense taken. Is Elizabeth always like that?'

'Worse sometimes.' Anne admitted. 'I'm her sister, you see.'

He raised an eyebrow, studying her face. 'I didn't see the resemblance until now. You are prettier.'

Anne blushed. 'I don't believe you, but thank you.'

'It's true. You apparently have a much sweeter disposition, too.' Suddenly, the cash register gave a hideous screech. Anne became flustered as the receipt refused to finish printing, and the drawer remained closed.

'Excuse me, something is wrong...I'll be right back.' She edged around the counter and headed towards the back room just as Rebecca backed through the doors with a tray full of sandwiches without checking for a clear pathway. Anne hadn't looked either, because she was glancing over her shoulder at the stranger's blue-eyed smile.

The door slammed into Anne. Somehow, Rebecca managed to keep her grip on the tray, and only lost two sandwiches. Anne tripped backwards, and was only prevented from cracking her back on the sharp counter corner by a strong arm around her waist. The young man's strength broke much of the force of the fall, but his arm grazed the counter as they fell to the floor.

Anne sat on his chest for a moment, dazed, before she struggled to her feet and offered him a hand-up. He stood, holding his arm.

'Are you OK?' He asked as Anne ran a shaky hand across her face.

'Fine, thank you. You've hurt your arm!'

'It's nothing. I'll have a very attractive bruise tomorrow, but I've seen-'

"Anne, what have you done? You know better than charging through the doors without looking. We lost two sandwiches. That's twelve dollars down the tube. I'll take it from your pay-'

'No, it was my fault.' He interrupted the manager, silencing Anne's protest. 'I distracted her just as she got to the door. I will gladly pay-'

The manager eyed him. 'We have a no-fault policy for customers, sir. This is not your concern.'

'It is if you take it from her pay. She was only doing her job.' He smiled warmly. 'I am sure that it cost much less than twelve dollars to make those sandwiches.'

The manager was gradually warmed by his charming smile and agreeable nature. She fixed the register and stalked off with one last warning glance at Anne.

'Thank you so much. You didn't have to do that.' Anne stammered, blushing, unused to such gallantry from handsome strangers.

'I couldn't very well stand by and watch you break a rib, could I?'

Anne smiled. 'Just the same, it was very kind of you.'

Frederick gave her a warm smile and extended a hand. 'My name is Frederick Wentworth. My friends call me Dickon.'

'And I am Anne Elliot. My friends call me Anne.'

Lindsey was full of questions when she returned from doing rounds. The first, of course, was whether he had asked Anne out. She was to be disappointed.

'I suppose he might consider it dangerous to his health to court Elizabeth's sister.'

Lindsey laughed. 'That could be. Oh, Elizabeth is a fool. I doubt she will ever get married. Look at the fine specimen she just let get away!'

'Somehow, I doubt Liz would agree that he was a fine specimen.' Anne paused. 'I do, though. Did you see his eyes?'

'Did you see his package?'

'Well, yes, he did have a nice body, too.'

Lindsey rolled her eyes. 'My shift is over. I'm punching out. Maybe I'll be lucky and run into him. If I don't come in to work tomorrow, you know why.'

'I'll cross my fingers for you.'

Lindsey laughed. 'To tell you the truth, he didn't even notice me standing next to you. If any of us gets him, it's bound to be you.'

Anne snorted. 'I won't hold my breath.'

Anne had just returned to her bookkeeping when Elizabeth came up beside her. 'Can you believe the nerve of that man?'

'Some nerve, asking you out...' Anne smiled.

'You know what I mean. You expect old jeans to impress me?'

'What man doesn't own a pair...besides, on a man like that, who about the clothes.' She shook her head. 'You were a little harsh on him, Liz.'

'No more than he deserved.' Elizabeth dimpled suddenly, quickly forgetting Frederick. 'A young lawyer from the New York branch of Daddy's firm is coming into town this weekend. He is supposed to be brilliant. His last name is Elliot, too! Imagine, if the two of us got together...everyone would think we were relatives.' Her eyes narrowed speculatively. 'He is supposedly filthy rich...and very handsome.'

'Oh, Elizabeth. Don't come on too strong. He might be scared away if he knew that you were entwining your initials before you even met him.'

'Oh, don't be silly. I know how to handle myself around men. Much better than you do, little sister. Anyway, what does it matter? You won't even be around for the weekend.'

'Because it's my birthday.' Anne muttered. But Elizabeth had already scampered off to change, full of money-scented dreams.

Anne sighed. It was a good thing she had close friends like Lindsey, or she would never be able to bear her family. As it was, her father would, once again, completely forget Anne's birthday until their neighbor, Amanda Russell, reminded him. To escape a scene like last year, Anne and her friends had booked a room at the Ashleigh for the weekend. They planned to celebrate Anne's 21st birthday in style.

Anne shook her head to dismiss traitorous thoughts, and returned to the bookwork. But after a few minutes, she again found her mind wandering. Only this time, it was a pair of cornflower blue eyes that invaded her thoughts. Cornflower eyes and a smile that could break any girl's heart.

The misunderstanding was quickly worked out. In the midst of the move from Manhattan to Monkford, a stack of post-it note reminders that had been stuck to Thomas Hassan's computer screen had been misplaced. His secretary finally reached Frederick at the hotel late that evening with Hassan's apologies and a request that they meet on Friday.

'At Le Baguette again?' Frederick asked, smiling at the telephone.

'No, he would like you to come here. A car will be sent for you at eleven on Friday. Pack your things. He will show you the ropes, introduce you to a few people, and find you a room at the house, so he won't have to always send for you at the hotel.'

'Great. Will you be there?'

'Yes.'

'Then I will look forward to meeting you in person...Lisa?'

He could hear her smile. 'Yes. Goodnight, Mr. Wentworth.'

There wasn't a restaurant in the hotel, so Richard went to the front desk to ask for directions to an inexpensive place to eat.

'Did you see The Bayg-it?' The clerk asked, raising a half-finished liter of diet Pepsi to her neon-pink lips.

Frederick winced at her harsh smoker's voice. 'I was there this afternoon.'

'There's always McDonalds or Hardees.'

'No thanks. I might as well go back to Le Baguette. What sort of night life is there in this town?'

'There are two nightclubs. The Somerset Tavern is where the rich folks hang out. It has really pricey beer. The Swingin' Shrimp is a dance club. You'd probably fit in better there.'

Frederick thanked her and set out on foot for the café. He was slightly relieved to find that all of the waitresses were different. He chose a table away from the window and ordered a smoked turkey sandwich on rye. While he waited, he wrapped his hands around a cup of tea and buried his nose in the script Hassan had sent when the internship was first arranged.

He didn't look up until the waitress arrived with his sandwich. As he thanked her, his eyes strayed to the counter area. A small bell rang as the front door opened, and Anne Elliot entered. She said something to the girl at the register, and leaned casually against the counter while the girl scampered off into the back room. Anne now wore a soft green coat and jeans, and had drawn her dark hair back into a loose ponytail. She had been wearing glasses earlier, but apparently had put in contact lenses. Frederick decided that he liked what he saw very much.

When she finally glanced in his direction, Frederick smiled brightly and lifted his hand in a wave. She raised her hand slightly as if starting to wave, then dropped it back to her side, giving him an uncertain smile.

'How is the arm?'

He smiled and lifted it to show a deep, spreading, purple bruise. 'Gorgeous, isn't it?'

'I am so sorry!' She called, her forehead wrinkling in concern as she walked over to his table. 'Does it hurt?'

'Of course not, I'm a man!' He quipped, offering her a seat. Then he leaned forward confidingly. 'Someone brushed against me in the elevator, and I yelped like a puppy.'

'Oh! Maybe you should have it looked at.'

He touched his bicep with one finger, then winced at the pain. 'Why is it that people poke bruises to see if they still hurt? No, I don't need to have it looked at. It may not be pretty, but it's nothing that won't heal in a matter of days...or weeks. Meanwhile, I'll wear it as a badge of honor.'

The girl returned to the counter, calling Anne over as she spread a stack of envelopes over the counter.

'Take care of yourself...Dickon, was it?' Anne asked, rising to her feet.

'And you are Anne. I will, thank you.' He took her hand and gave it a warm squeeze. 'Maybe I will see you around town.'

'Probably. It is a small town. Goodbye, Dickon.'

Anne returned to the counter. She shuffled through the envelopes, extracted one, and shoved it into a coat pocket. Then, with one last curious smile and a small wave at Frederick, she ducked through the door, and was gone.

Chapter 2

Thursday, 10 May 2001

A.N.: FYI-I got the name Dickon from Sharon Kay Penman (The Sunne in Splendor). Of course, she used it for a Richard, but I thought it would work just as well for a Frederick. Also-I hope you will forgive me for placing Anne's birthday in May instead of August. I have a soft spot for May, since it's my own birth-month, and I forgot that Mr. Elliot's beloved Baronetage would list such a fact until I had already posted the first chapter.

Anne woke late Friday morning to a brooding gray sky filled with dark clouds that threatened a riot at any moment. She rolled over in bed and grabbed her journal to scribble a quick entry about her mixed emotions on this, the morning of her twenty-first birthday. Then she took a quick shower, dressed, and went downstairs to breakfast.

There was only one place set at the large table. Although someone had obviously tried to make breakfast special for her by placing a glass vase full of yellow daisies and lit candles on the table, Anne felt very lonely as she slid into the chair.

Just after Anne arrived, Molly, the Elliots' part-time cook, hustled into the room, beaming, and carrying a loaded tray.

'Happy birthday, Anne!' She sang, setting the tray on the table.

Anne rose to her feet and threw her arms around the woman. 'Thanks for the beautiful table, Molly. I love it!'

Molly became pink-faced and flustered. 'Oh, it wasn't my idea. Your father wanted to make sure...'

Anne gave her a wry smile. 'We both know by now that isn't true.' She sank into her chair with a sigh. 'So they have already left the house. Where have they gone?'

'Mr. Elliot was off to the country club. He wanted to get in a few holes in before Martin leaves to pick up his guest.'

'And Elizabeth?'

'A massage, facial, haircut and dye, and a tae-bo class, I believe.' Molly turned back towards the kitchen.

'Please stay, won't you?' Anne asked suddenly as rain began to streak the window.

Molly heaved into the seat next to Anne with a sigh. 'It looks like your father's game is going to be rained out.'

Anne shook her head. 'You underestimate my father. He would never let a little rain get between him and the green.'

Just then, the doorbell rang. Anne started to rise, but Molly stopped her. 'Let me. Your food will get cold.'

Molly was barely gone for a minute before Anne heard a commotion in the hallway. Molly came back into the room, her arms loaded with packages, followed by Anne's closest friends: Lindsey, Corinne, Kristine, and Amanda Russell, the Elliots' dear neighbor.

Anne's self-pity vanished as she was smothered in hugs and kisses, and loaded with presents. Molly had been in on the surprise, and soon had set four extra places at the table, and brought out several more steaming platters.

When the last plates were cleared and the last presents opened, Anne flopped back in her chair.

'I'm so glad all of you came.'

'Oh, it's not over yet!' Lindsey cried, pulling Anne to her feet.

The five women drove through the rain to a nearby day spa, where they went through everything from steam treatments, to mud baths, to cellophane wraps, to seaweed scrubs. By two o'clock, they were physically exhausted. They returned to Kellynch Hall, where Mrs. Russell said goodbye to the girls and headed back to her own house. Anne showed her three friends to guest bedrooms. Then she returned to her own room, falling into a deep sleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

Anne woke at six, relaxed and refreshed. She found the other women in the library, drinking tea.

'Are you ready for more?' Corinne asked, picking up a black tackle box in one hand and a duffel bag in the other.

'More? This has been such an amazing day, there can't possibly be more!'

'You don't turn twenty-one every day!' Lindsey cried.

'And we haven't even done your hair and makeup yet.' Kristine added, dragging Anne into the huge main bathroom, where Amanda Russell, who had returned while the girls were napping, had set up a small salon.

An hour later, as the girls headed out into the crisp evening air, Mr. Elliot's sleek gray limousine drove up.

'I still can't believe your father bought a limo!' Corinne cooed.

'Neither can I.' Anne muttered. 'Country club memberships, limousines, servants, fancy parties, trips to Europe...you would think we were filthy rich.'

'Well aren't you?'

'We have money, but not that much.' Anne sighed, pointing to the limo.

The girls paused at the doors of Kristine's cranberry mustang and watched as Anne's father and sister crawled out of the car, followed by their guest. Elizabeth and Walter didn't even look in Anne's direction. The young man with them paused, smiling, and gave the girls a little wave before he followed his host and hostess into the house.

'Beautiful.' Lindsey sighed.

'As beautiful as your café boy, Linds?' Corinne asked with a grin.

'Well, beautiful, I suppose, if tall, dark, and handsome is your type. It definitely is mine! Anne can have Dickon. He did speak very nicely to her, after all.'

'-After Liz gave him a royal thrashing.' Anne added, smiling. 'The man with Liz and my father is William Elliot-no relation of ours. He works for the New York branch of my father's main business. He is just visiting for the weekend. Father has high hopes for him...as does my sister.'

'Something tells me that Liz is really going to sink her claws into him.' Lindsey sighed with a backward glance at the house as she climbed into the car. 'Perhaps you could call me when she's had her way with him, Anne. I would be more than willing to pick up the pieces of his poor, battered heart.'

'Oh, we'll find you someone else to take your mind off of him tonight, Linds.' Kristine laughed, hopping into the driver's seat.

Mrs. Russell leaned in the passenger's side window and gave Anne a kiss on the cheek. 'Take care of yourself, honey, and have a great time. Remember: if you have any trouble, give me a call.'

'She's great!' Corinne said as they drove away.

'She is.' Anne agreed. 'She has watched out for all of us since mother died.'

'I have never seen her husband. Are they separated?'

'No, he died long before I was born.'

'How sad.'

'For a while, everyone thought that she and my father would marry, but they never did. Other than the fact that they are not romantically involved, they might as well be. Amanda does her best to keep my father, and Elizabeth, in line.'

'You are lucky to have her.'

'Yes, we are.'

The girls arrived at the Ashleigh hotel at seven-thirty. Their table was easily recognizable because of the beautiful floral arrangement in the middle of it. They had a wonderful dinner, and three waiters serenaded Anne as she they presented her with an honorary bottle of champagne. After dinner, the girls took a walk by the water's edge to work off some of their rich dinner before heading to the dance club for the rest of the evening.

A car arrived for Frederick, as promised, promptly at eleven o'clock on Friday morning. Dark, ominous clouds started rumbling as he slung a duffel bag over his shoulder and sprinted out into the parking lot. Frederick slid into the passenger seat of the sleek silver Mercedes just as it began to pour.

After a twenty-minute drive, the car turned onto a narrow lane, lined with tall trees and dense, dripping foliage. The road twisted and turned, following the course of a small stream, until they came to a clearing, and the house was faintly visible through the downpour.

A lush, rain soaked lawn led up an enormous white manor house with huge, sparkling arched windows and a verandah lined with columns. The house was surrounded by pine trees and immaculate gardens that lead down to a crystal-clear man-made lake. An ivy-covered walkway connected a glass hothouse to the end of the East wing. A beautiful stable building and white-fenced paddocks stood to the West, slightly hidden by another stand of pine trees.

With no outside activity because of the rain, and surrounded in mist, the house seemed frozen in time. As they drew near, however, Frederick could suddenly see a multitude of cars-some very expensive, and some that had seen their better days-parked off in the woods. It appeared that Hassan had not come here to work in solitude.

A young man met Frederick in the imposing front hall. After introducing himself as a fellow intern, Michael Cutler offered to show Frederick to his room. He led Frederick through hallways covered in watered silks and priceless paintings to the much less elegant East wing. The old servants' wing, Michael explained, had been refurbished for Hassan's many less-important visitors: students, interns, and actors reading for small parts.

'Make yourself comfortable. Lisa will meet you at 12:30 in the main hallway to take you to Hassan.' Michael started to close Frederick's door behind him, then turned back with a smile. 'Some of us are driving back into Somerset tonight. If you want to come with, meet us at nine in the lounge at the end of this hall.'

Frederick's room was Spartan in comparison with the rest of the house, but clean and cozy-well suited to the few needs of an intern. It contained a single bed, two well used, but comfortable, chairs by the window, a simple desk, and an armoire. Frederick collapsed onto the bed and pulled the script from his bag, planning to put the hour before his meeting to good use.

Forty-five minutes later, Frederick opened his eyes and lifted his head from the script with a mighty yawn, rubbing the dents in his cheek where the pages had marked him while he dozed. The sun had come out from behind the clouds while he slept, and streamed brightly through the window. Frederick spared a moment to watch the steam rising from the drying grass before he changed into a fresh shirt and checked his watch. With a little time to spare, he gathered his papers together, grabbed a notebook and pen, and left his room.

Frederick soon found himself in the wing of suites where Hassan's most important guests stayed. He wandered through the gold and cream striped hallway, occasionally glancing through partially open doors at a life so splendidly opulent that few could ever dream of experiencing it.

'You're a new one,' a low, sultry voice behind him breathed suddenly. 'Are you in the show?'

'No,' Frederick turned around to find the dazzling Henrietta Groves, who had won two best actress Oscars, a mere four feet from him.

'Then what are you doing here?' She murmured, lounging in the door to her suite in a peach silk dressing gown.

'Learning how the better half lives.' Frederick replied smoothly, leaning against a striped, satin-upholstered chair in the hallway.

'You're a bit precocious, aren't you?' She purred, playing with the shimmering belt of her robe. 'Why are you here?'

'I am one of Mr. Hassan's interns. Frederick Wentworth.'

She didn't introduce herself, knowing full well that every English-speaking man in the world knew who she was. She gave him a sly smile. 'I've never seen a Frederick quite like you before.'

'And I've never seen a Henrietta quite like you.' He shot back, grinning. 'My father goes by Frederick. My friends call me Dickon.'

'That fits you much better.'

Just then, a woman in her mid-thirties came jogging down the hall. She came to a stop in front of Frederick, breathing heavily. She gave Henrietta a slightly disapproving glance before introducing herself as Lisa, Hassan's personal secretary.

Henrietta held Lisa's gaze until the secretary glanced away. Then she gave Frederick one last patented smile. 'A word of advice that Lisa will not give you: Watch out for Lucca, Dickon.' And with that warning, she slinked back into her room and closed her door firmly.

Lisa gave Frederick a dark look. 'She is right. Instead of telling you to watch out for Nicolo, I would have told you to watch out for her,' she muttered. Then she once again put on her professional face and directed Frederick to follow her. 'Mr. Hassan is ready for you.'

'I have two questions, Lisa. What is Henrietta Groves doing here, and who is Lucca?'

Lisa's face darkened again as she handed Frederick a thick manila envelope. 'Those are both questions for Mr. Hassan.' She knocked once on a heavy oak door and led Frederick into the room.

'He should be here shortly. You won't actually be eating with him, because he is too busy. I will pick you up in about twenty minutes for lunch.' She backed out of the room, closing the door behind her softly.

Frederick was left alone in a cavernous conference room with lavish decorations and thick oriental carpets. He stood in the middle of the carpet for a moment, gazing around him, then strolled over to a side wall, where the playbills of each show Hassan had directed were professionally mounted and framed.

'Wentworth, I presume?' A powerful, commanding voice asked.

Frederick turned to face the director. 'Yes, sir. May I tell you what an honor...'

'Have you heard from Milford yet, Tom?' A querulous Italian tenor interrupted Frederick from the open doorway. An extremely handsome, dark-haired man who appeared to be in his early thirties entered the room scowling. 'He promised me that he would have the second location taken care of today-Who is this?' He turned the full power of his accusatory glare on Frederick.

'This is Frederick Wentworth, one of the interns. Frederick, Nicolo Lucca. He wrote The Words of Men.. He is a little harried because we begin shooting in four months.'

'Shooting...you are doing a film?' Frederick asked, confused. Hassan, who had won Tony after Tony, had always professed his disdain for Movies and Television.

'Yes, indeed, I am.' Hassan gave Frederick an ironic smile.

'Get rid of him. We have work to do!' Lucca broke in, giving Frederick a look of pure challenge.

'I read The Words of Men, Mr. Lucca. It was quite an accomplishment. It is an honor to meet you, sir.'

Lucca glared at Frederick, then turned his gaze onto Hassan.

'It's OK, Nicolo.' Hassan said soothingly, placing a hand on the author's shoulder. 'I just need to get this young man settled. I'll be with you in a moment.' He winked over his shoulder at Frederick as he ushered the temperamental author from the room.

'Right, so you've read the copy I sent over?' Hassan asked as he returned, closing the door behind him.

'Yes sir, but it sure looked like the script for a play.'

'That, my dear boy, is exactly what it was. But I found-as you also probably noticed, having read the book-that the story was all wrong for the stage. Tell me, did you fall asleep reading the script? I thought so! But I had so many ideas, that I just had to go against my principles...and do a motion picture. I sent you the old script because I didn't want any rumors getting out just yet. Give me your script.' He took Frederick's binder and handed him a much thicker one. 'This copy is yours. Whatever you do, don't let it out of your sight.'

Frederick nodded slowly, setting his growing stack of materials on the conference table.

'For now, you will be my gopher.' Hassan continued, parting the window curtains to gaze over his extensive property. At the edge of the pond, Henrietta Groves, cinema superstar, tripped around in a cute little white skirt with a cocker spaniel puppy in her arms, flirting with every male within reach.

'Pardon?' Frederick asked, watching as the movie legend kicked off her shoes and went chasing after a young man who had taken her puppy.

'My gopher. If I need something, you go-for it.'

Frederick snorted.

'I know. One of my assistants came up with the term years ago. But it suited, and it stuck, so there you go.' Hassan indicated the stack of papers and folders on the table. 'Those are very precious documents. Lisa included a schedule of every meeting, a list of the major actors-have you met Henrietta yet? Of course you have! Watch your step with her. She is known to go after fine young things like you. Now, I need you to go through the script, and make a list of every prop we need to find-from the smallest candlestick to the exact markings on every horse in the stables. You will keep an eye out for these things while we are on the road.'

'We are going to travel?'

'Yes...you do realize that we can't just assume a location will work. We have to check it out ourselves. The itinerary is exhausting. But if you've ever wanted to see the world...' He dismissed Frederick with a wave, and was on two conference calls by the time Frederick made it to the door.

The Swingin' Shrimp was terribly crowded, and the girls had a difficult time finding a table. Finally, a group of disappointed-looking older men drowned their last beer and hustled out of the building. Lindsey dived for the table, nearly knocking over three people in her haste.

Once they were finally seated, Corinne wandered off towards the bar for the first round of drinks. Kristine angled her chair slightly out from the table, and sat with her legs crossed, swinging a foot as she tried to catch the eyes of four guys at a nearby table.

Lindsey leaned towards Anne, scanning the crowded room.

'I wonder if he will be here tonight.'

'Who? William? I doubt it.' Anne asked nonchalantly as she bent to adjust the straps on her shoes.

Kristine finally received an encouraging smile from one of the young men she had been admiring, so she excused herself. Lindsey nodded distractedly, before turning back to Anne with an urgent expression in her eyes.

'No, him!' She hissed, elbowing Anne as a pair of well-used hiking boots entered Anne's vision.

Anne glanced up to meet Frederick Wentworth's dazzling blue gaze.

'Hello!' He said with an engaging smile. 'Do you remember me from the café? I am Frederick Wentworth.'

'Yes I do. I am-'

'Anne Elliot, if I remember correctly.' He grinned, taking her hand.

'And I'm Lindsey.' Anne's friend muttered, knowing full well that Frederick hadn't even noticed her sitting next to Anne.

'It is nice to meet you, Lindsey.' He smiled, dropping Anne's hand to shake Lindsey's. 'So, what brings you ladies here tonight?'

'Oh...nothing...' Anne stammered, blushing.

'It's her 21st birthday.'

Frederick grinned and winked at Lindsey. 'It's your birthday, Anne, and you're not dancing?'

'Oh, well, we're waiting for two more friends to come back.'

'With the drinks.' Lindsey added, dimpling.

'Male friends?' He asked with a twinkle in his eye.

'Oh, no. Only Kris and Cor. It's just us girls tonight.'

'In that case,' Frederick held his hand out to Anne. 'May I have this dance?'

'Oh,' Anne hesitated, desperately wanting to accept. 'I'm sorry, I can't. The other girls will be back soon, and...'

'I understand.' He gave a small frown. 'I will see you around. Nice to meet you, Lindsey.'

'Are you nuts?' Lindsey hissed as soon as Frederick was out of earshot.

'I couldn't leave you alone, Linds. After all, we did come here together. What would Corinne think, after battling the mob at the bar, to return with our drinks and not find us here?'

'I would have stayed with the table. It's not as if I have gorgeous guys falling in my lap. If he comes around again, I don't care if I am having a heart attack. You are dancing with him!'

Corinne returned, followed by Kristine, with three fancy drinks, and a soda for Kristine. Anne's drink was bright blue with a sparkler in it.

'Um...this looks interesting.'

'It is called the birthday bomber. Don't ask what is in it, because the bartender wouldn't tell me.'

'You're kidding, right? I am NOT going overboard tonight.'

Corinne laughed. 'You will be fine.'

An hour later, Anne was feeling very happy. She was humming along with the music when Lindsey nudged her arm, and she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Frederick standing in front of her holding a yellow rose.

'I thought I might have more success this time if I came bearing gifts.' He gave a small bow and handed the flower to Anne. Then he smiled at her friends. 'Do you ladies think you can spare the birthday girl for a little while?'

They nodded silently, and stared, openmouthed, as Frederick led Anne to the floor.

'You seem to be doing pretty well, considering that it's your 21st.' He commented, steering Anne between couples. 'You are walking straight, your eyes are clear, and you still look fresh and pretty.'

'I'm a little fuzzyheaded, but that's all. I think I've been talking a little more than usual, too. But drinking will do that to you.'

He laughed. 'Yes, it will.'

The music slowed, and Frederick pulled Anne into his arms. 'Are you having a nice birthday?'

'Yes, I am. Especially now. You are very nice.'

'So are you.' He added with a swift grin.

'I haven't seen you since Monday, when I saw you at the café twice.'

'Well, I have been busy. My internship started, and I have a lot of work to do.'

'I was hoping you would stop by again.'

He smiled. 'I was hoping that I would, too. Perhaps I will again sometime this week.'

Anne nodded, satisfied, and rested her head on his shoulder. She knew that she was acting a little out of character, but she didn't care. She was enjoying the moment, and the night, too much to worry about being quiet little Anne Elliot. Besides, it suddenly didn't feel so odd to be flirting with a good-looking young man. The fuzziness in her head made it all seem so harmless, so easy. Maybe she should flirt more often. It really wasn't all that difficult or scary after all.

'Are you OK, Anne?' Frederick asked after a little while.

'Yes, why?'

'Well...I've never slow-danced to ABBA before.' He chuckled as Anne just positioned her head more comfortably on his shoulder.

'There's a first time for everything.' She lifted her head to give him a bright smile.

'Yes...I suppose there is.' He murmured reflectively, studying her closely before slipping his arm back around her waist.

After three songs, Frederick could tell that Anne was getting a little tired. He took her hands as he stepped back. 'Would you like me to take you back to your friends?'

'I would...I would like you to...'

'You would like me to...' Frederick repeated, smiling.

'I would like you to kiss me.' She smiled sleepily. 'You have very nice lips.'

He raised his eyebrows. Maybe she was a little more "fuzzy" than he had thought. 'You don't really want me to. You're just feeling very cheerful and tipsy, and tired to boot. All of that, with low lighting and slow music-'

'I would like it very much.' She repeated, gazing up at him.

Frederick studied her closely. Then he chuckled. 'I suppose it wouldn't do any harm. But just a little one...' He bent and brushed his lips very lightly across hers, attributing the funny little flutter in his stomach to his own alcohol consumption.

'Satisfied?' He whispered, drawing back, but keeping her hands in his.

'Nearly.' Anne smiled.

'Some other time, perhaps, when you are thinking clearly.' He smiled.

'Is that a promise?'

'I hope so. But somehow I doubt you'll remember this in the morning.'

Anne smiled. 'I doubt that.'

Frederick laughed and tucked Anne's arm into his, leading her back to the table.

Frederick's new friend Michael had introduced himself to the girls. He rose to his feet as Frederick and Anne approached. He introduced himself to Anne, then turned to Frederick.

'Time to head back, Dickon. We have an early morning tomorrow.'

Frederick said goodbye to the girls, reserving a special smile for Anne, who was beaming at him.

On the ride home, the girls were quiet, except when Lindsey commented that Anne had received the best birthday present she had ever seen.

Sobered by the cool evening air, Anne turned suddenly to Lindsey a wide-eyed stare.

'Did he really kiss me?'

Chapter 3

Posted on Friday, 18 May 2001

How rare and wonderful is that flash of a moment when we realize we have discovered a friend.
~ William E. Rothschild ~

The morning did not begin well. Due to the stifling humidity, Anne had tossed and turned all night until a light rain near morning finally offered relief and lulled her to sleep. Unfortunately, the sweet, dreamless sleep was only temporary. When the early morning sun began to melt the clouds, a lovesick jay landed in the tree outside Anne's window, determined to woo the entire county with its raucous calls. After the bird finally flew away, falling back asleep proved hopeless, because the sunlight was just too bright, and Anne could not breathe with a pillow shoved over her head.

For once, both Anne's father and Elizabeth were at the breakfast table. Walter spent ten minutes grumbling about his eggs before he tossed the newspaper on the table in a huff and stormed off to his study. Elizabeth ignored Anne completely until she needed the salt. When Anne did not pass it quickly enough, Elizabeth leaped from her chair and stalked over to get it herself. They had three arguments about nothing before Elizabeth's cell phone rang, and Anne was finally left alone in the room with her toast and orange juice, feeling too vile to eat.

Then Amanda Russell entered with a small, potted red geranium and asked if Anne was ready for church. Anne took one look at the plant and burst into tears.

The house may have been marvelous, but Frederick was sick of it. His first week as Hassan's intern had been physically and emotionally exhausting. This morning, Hassan had left at six to drive into Boston for a three-hour meeting, leaving Frederick, for once, without explicit instructions. So, given the gift of an unexpected break on a gorgeous morning, Frederick borrowed a car and drove into Somerset.

He parked at the end of Somerset's small downtown, and walked the business section of Main Street twice before he realized that in a small town like this, most businesses would remain closed on a Sunday. Guessing that the restaurant at the Ashleigh would be much too expensive and formal, Frederick finally found an open roadside café. He sat through an impersonal truck-stop type meal of runny eggs, dry toast with rubbery jam, weak orange juice, and deadly coffee. He read the first two pages of the New York Times, then paid his bill and emerged from the stifling Formica atmosphere into a stunningly fresh Sunday morning.

Frederick was not used to small town life, having spent most of his life in large cities, including London, Boston, and New York. As he strolled through slowly waking neighborhoods, it almost surprised him that people actually did get up early on Sundays to mow the lawn and walk the dog before church, that neighbors actually did talk over garden fences, and that milkmen still existed.

At the end of one of the narrow, tree-lined residential streets, Frederick found a wooded trail. Ready to leave concrete and busy schedules behind, he tightened his shoelaces and broke into an easy jog, following the trail through the woods towards a small lake.

After the church service, Anne shoved several damp, crumpled Kleenexes into her pocket and shook the minister's hand. Mrs. Russell gave Anne a quick hug and handed her the geranium. They separated at the front doors of the church. Amanda Russell went off to chat with friends in the church garden, and Anne started down the street with her flower.

As Anne walked towards the small cemetery, she heard someone call her name from the other side of the street. She glanced up in surprise as Frederick Wentworth jogged towards her. He greeted Anne warmly, then fell in step beside her.

'How are you?'

Disconcerted at meeting him for the first time since her birthday, Anne moved to the side a bit and clutched the flowerpot to her chest. Does he remember?

'Fine.'

'How was your weekend?'

'Super. Yours?'

'Super.' He repeated, grinning. He gestured towards the flowers in Anne's hand. 'Where are you going?'

'To the cemetery.'

'Do you mind if I come with? It's a beautiful day for a walk.'

'I-don't know.' Anne knew she was being distant, but she had no idea how to handle the situation. She did not have much practice in speaking with men after she had humiliated herself in front of them.

Frederick gave her a quick glance, frowning. 'I'm sorry...did you wish to be alone?'

Anne wondered how he could be so at ease when she was so entirely uncomfortable. She felt a sudden need to explain herself to him, and ended up saying more than she had intended.

'I am going to visit my mother-she died when I was thirteen. I don't want to subject you to my messy emotions...'

'Mother's Day.' He added softly. 'Would you mind if I walked with you as far as the gate? I'll leave you alone, but if you want to find me when you are finished, I'll do my best to cheer you up afterwards.'

Anne agreed, if somewhat reluctantly. After a short walk, Frederick left Anne and wandered off towards the garden on the edge of the wooded property.

Fifteen minutes later, Anne found Frederick skipping rocks into the pond. He greeted her with a smile, noticing her red cheeks and nose. He dipped his hand into a jacket pocket, and retrieved three perfect skipping stones.

'Are you a good skipper?'

Anne silently thanked him for not commenting on her little mission. 'I haven't done it since I was a child.'

'Then it is about time. If you get seven skips, you get a wish.'

'I never skipped more than three.'

'I think three means you get a kiss.'

Anne gasped and glanced up to find Frederick grinning mischievously at her.

'I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.'

She thought about his comment for a moment, staring at him. 'Did I make such a fool of myself?'

'No, you were charming. Were you surprised that I actually took you up on your offer?'

'Do you even need to ask?'

'Well, you were pretty emphatic, and a gentleman never denies a lady her requests-at least such simple, inexpensive, and enjoyable ones.'

Anne blushed, and her mouth curled a little at the corners. 'I don't know what came over me! I wasn't that bad...was I? It must have just been the atmosphere. I felt daring because it was my birthday...'

'And here I thought it was my irresistible charm.' He tossed another stone, skipping six times. 'So, how has your first week in your majority gone?'

Anne found that her acute embarrassment was diminishing as she warmed to Frederick's light, unconcerned tone.

'Not great, actually. How was your week?'

'Not so great, either.' He threw his last stone, then counted the skips on Anne's final attempt. 'Five. Too bad.'

'Really? I thought it was quite well done, actually.'

'Your form was beautiful. Unfortunately, you didn't get the right number of skips.'

Anne's blush deepened as her smile grew. 'Oh, that's right, I am supposed to shoot for two more.'

'Two more-or less...' Frederick repeated slowly, handing her another stone.

The stone glided towards the water.

Skip
.
.
.
.
Skip
.
.
.
Skip
Frederick crowed in delight. Anne held her breath.
Skip
.
.
Skip
.
skip
skip
splash

'Seven! I did it, seven!' Anne cried, dancing.

'Unbelievable.' Frederick muttered. 'Well, what are you going to wish for?'

'Even I know the rules of wishing. I don't want to jeopardize my chances by telling you.'

Frederick frowned, then brightened considerably. 'Since you got one more chance, I think it's only fair that I should, too. Is it too late to influence your wishing? I've never skipped three before, always more or less.'

'Sorry, I already made my wish.' She laughed. 'And-oops! Look, we're all out of stones.'

'What a shame.' Frederick sighed, tossing his jacket over his arm as they started back down the trail. He stopped to hold the gate open for her. 'Are you feeling better now?'

Anne gave him a warm smile, feeling a little thrill inside as his blue eyes lit on hers. 'Much better. Thank you, Dickon.'

'My pleasure.' He grinned, swinging the gate closed. 'So, do you have something planned now, or can I take you out for lunch?'

'I am supposed to meet my neighbor, Amanda Russell, back at church.'

'She can join us.'

Amanda Russell was surrounded by her friends when Anne and Frederick returned. She quickly extracted herself from the group and went over to join them.

'Amanda, this is Frederick Wentworth. He is one of Thomas Hassan's interns. Frederick, Amanda Russell, my neighbor and dear friend.'

'I'm pleased to meet you.' Frederick said, smiling engagingly as he offered his hand.

Mrs. Russell studied him warily, eyeing his clothing, shoes, and hair.

'Frederick.' She said coolly as she shook his hand. Then she turned to Anne. 'Betty made reservations at the Ashleigh for the Mother's Day brunch, as usual. She is saving two extra spaces for us.'

'Oh, Dickon asked if we would join him for lunch.'

'I'm sure Dickon will understand that we have an obligation to join our friends today, honey.'

'Of course...' Frederick replied lightly, catching Anne's eye with a reassuring smile.

'Can't he join us?'

'You know how busy the Ashleigh is on holidays. Betty only saved two spots for us. Your friend most likely would not be able to find a seat.' She turned to Frederick. 'Don't you have family you want to spend the day with?'

'They are all back in England.'

'I see. That is unfortunate. Are you going to call your mother?'

'Unfortunately, no. She died when I was very young.'

'I'm sorry.' Mrs. Russell's tone softened slightly. Then she turned to Anne. 'We do have to hurry. Everyone is waiting...'

'It was nice to meet you, Amanda. Goodbye, Anne. I enjoyed running into you.'

'So did I.' Anne said softly.

Frederick gave Anne an encouraging smile before he turned away.

'What was that all about?' Anne asked, watching Frederick walk away.

'Pardon?'

'Usually, you are very kind to strangers.'

'Did he go to church wearing jeans and a black leather jacket?'

'He met me on the way to the cemetery.'

'So he wasn't in church at all?'

'I don't know. I didn't see him at ours, but there are other churches in town...Are you more disturbed that he might have worn that outfit to church, or that he might not have gone to church at all?'

Mrs. Russell gave Anne a contrite smile. 'I am sorry. I suppose I was a little cold. I am very protective of you, and I do not want young men with questionable prospects to chase after you.'

'Did he look questionable to you? I thought he looked rather...adorable.'

'Oh, I agree. He is quite handsome. But you know the old adage: never judge a-'

'Book by its cover, I know. And I don't. It just so happens that I was having a miserable day until he showed up. Have you ever seen me smile on Mother's Day before?'

'I haven't, Anne. But be careful. I don't want you to make an imprudent match.'

'Who is even talking about matches yet? Can't you just accept him as a possible friend?'

'Like it or not, Anne, you are from a wealthy family. Many young men, especially those with little money themselves, might be tempted to take advantage of you.' She slipped her hand through Anne's arm. 'I am just watching out for your best interests, because I care about you.'

'I don't think men marry for money so much these days. In fact, if I were you, I would worry more about AIDS or pregnancy than about money.'

Mrs. Russell laughed. 'You're right. You are an intelligent young woman fully capable of making your own decisions. I know you won't be foolhardy. Will you forgive me for being a nosy old woman?'

Anne softened. 'If you weren't so nosy, I would have felt mother's loss so much more.' She gave the woman a hug. 'And you are not an old woman. Let's go eat.'

Chapter 4

Posted on Thursday, 24 May 2001

An acquaintance that begins with a compliment is sure to develop into a real friendship.
~ Oscar Wilde ~

'Are you as ready for a break as I am?' Michael Cutler called to Frederick as they watched Hassan's entourage roll down the long, winding driveway two weeks later.

Frederick grinned, shading his eyes from the sun. 'When I signed up for this internship, I was told that working with Hassan was 93% insanity and 7% sheer madness.'

'Yes, we're usually all about insanity here. When I started, someone compared Hassan to a juggler who randomly tosses flaming torches in the air and then walks away, leaving the poor trapeze artists to figure out how to catch and douse them.' Michael laughed. 'Honestly, it's not as bad as all that. He is brilliant, and comes up with amazing ideas that are often logistically impossible, but somehow it all works marvelously. And there are plenty of rewards for all of our hard work-easy weeks like this, for example.' He shrugged. 'Most of the time, I'm sure you will love it, even when Tom has you trying to squeeze camels through needles. What assignment did he leave you with?'

'Just to start ordering props.'

'Not bad. I'm supposed to meet the costume designer when she arrives, get her settled in, and introduce her to Henrietta. Ready for a swim?'

'Yes, and then I want to go into town.'

'For dinner?'

'Among other things...' Frederick drawled.

'You've seen her, what, three times?' Michael chuckled.

Frederick smiled. 'I'll meet you at the pool.'

The house seemed very empty as Frederick walked back to his room. Only five of Hassan's guests remained behind. Half of the staff had already disappeared.

Frederick threw on a pair of swim trunks and jogged bare-footed down to the glass-walled poolroom. Michael was not down yet, so Frederick tossed his towel on a chair and strolled to the diving board. After executing a beautiful dive, he began to swim laps.

Michael still had not arrived by the time Frederick had completed seven laps. Frederick did one last lazy circuit, then climbed out of the water and snatched his towel from the chair.

'Hello, gorgeous.'

A true movie star, Henrietta Groves knew how to make an entrance. She paused in the doorway, watching Frederick, and giving him time to take in the translucent pink sheath and the tiny white bikini beneath. Then, with a slow smile, she removed her dramatic sunglasses and strolled towards him.

'Hello, Ms. Groves.'

'Henrietta, please, Dickon.' She purred, reaching up to pile her curly platinum hair on top of her head. 'Will you clip this for me?' She asked, handing a silver butterfly clip to Frederick.

He shrugged and tossed his towel aside, stepping behind her to secure the clip in her lustrous hair.

'I haven't seen much of you lately, Dickon.' She smiled after he had finished, grabbing his wrist to bring him around in front of her.

'No, Hassan keeps us interns quite busy.'

'While I spend my days lying in the sun.' She flung her arm in the air dramatically, then dropped into a lounge chair.

Frederick smiled. 'I'm sure you will have enough to do when filming begins.'

'I will.' She grabbed his hand, and made him sit next to her. 'I know you don't approve of me, Dickon. Thomas doesn't either.'

Frederick picked up his towel again and began to rub his hair with it. 'I don't know you, Henrietta, and my job is not to socialize with celebrities. My opinion of you has no significance.'

Henrietta frowned and grabbed the towel from him. 'Do you men ever consider how lonely it is to be famous? No man ever wants to stay with me long because he is intimidated by my reputation.' She leaned over to begin rubbing Frederick's shoulders with the towel. 'No one ever gets to know the girl behind the movie star.'

Frederick snatched the towel from her, and threw it aside, turning to meet her famous clear, green eyes. 'Miss Groves...'

'Henrietta, remember.' She murmured, leaning closer as she placed a hand on his tanned thigh.

Frederick's head swam as he caught a whiff of her expensive, musky cologne. 'Henrietta, I-'

'Sorry, Dickon, I-Miss Groves!' Michael Cutler stopped short, staring at the scantily clad movie star leaning over his friend.

Frederick quickly rose from his chair. Henrietta barely gave Michael a second glance as she stood.

'I'd better leave, Dickon. If you need me, I'll be around...'

Michael grinned, watching Henrietta's lithe form as she retreated from the room. 'My phone started ringing just as I was about to leave my room. I see that you were not without good company...'

Frederick coughed. 'You could say that.'

'Henrietta Groves will "be around" if you need her. I'm in awe! Are you going to take her up on the offer?'

'It was hardly an offer-'

'When a woman like that tells you she'll be around...'

'I should thank my lucky stars.' Frederick deadpanned.

'Did you notice what she was wearing?'

'How about what she wasn't wearing?'

'Are you nuts? She's a goddess!'

'You know what happens to mortals who get involved with the gods.'

Michael laughed. 'You don't have to get involved. Just live out every man's fantasy for one night...'

Frederick rolled his eyes and shoved Michael into the water. 'I think you need some cooling off.'

'Well, I'm off. Have a good night, Linds.'

'Goodnight, Anne.' Lindsey paused, seeing Anne's frown. 'He still hasn't returned, has he?'

'I thought he might, but no. There are probably too many distractions at Thomas Hassan's estate for Dickon to remember a lowly waitress. It's been two weeks!'

'Oh, someone else will turn up.' Lindsey grinned. 'Has Liz heard anything from Will Elliot?'

'No--and she is furious. She thought that she had him caught, but he hasn't answered any of her calls or E-mails. It's been three weeks.'

'She will just have to find another to-die-for rich stud.'

'Right, and they are so easy to find.' Anne laughed. 'Have a great week, Linds. I won't be in again until Thursday.'

Anne tossed a black nylon messenger bag over her shoulder and headed down the street.

Less than ten minutes after Anne left, Michael Cutler and Frederick Wentworth arrived at La Baguette. Frederick had been too intent on Anne the night at the club to really notice her friends, but Michael recognized Lindsey instantly.

'It's Miss Bliss!' He cried, waving her over to their table. 'Lindsey, right?'

'You remembered the nickname, but not my real name?' She pouted happily.

'Miss Bliss?' Frederick asked distractedly, glancing around the restaurant.

'It's a long story...' Lindsey muttered.

'About her most embarrassing moment.' Michael grinned. 'We covered some great topics while you and Anne were dancing.'

'Speaking of Anne...where is she?' Frederick asked hopefully.

'Oh, I'm so sorry! She left just before you came. She will be so sad that she missed you!'

'Oh. That's...too bad.'

'You might be able to catch her...she went to the bluffs by the river. She had a rough day, and usually goes there to cool off.'

Frederick grinned. 'Thanks. Cutler, are you OK here by yourself? I would like to try to find her...'

'Of course!' He grinned. 'As long as Lindsey keeps me company.'

Lindsey agreed happily, and Frederick jogged out of the door.

Michael gave Lindsey a warm smile. 'So, what have you been up to since we met?'

'Not much besides listening to Anne rave about your friend there.'

'Frederick has been the same way. I don't understand it...they have only met a couple of times.'

'Sometimes, I think, you just know.' Lindsey said softly, glancing out of the window at Frederick's retreating form.

'So you sent him to her quiet place?'

'I thought I might play Cupid, for once. Anne deserves it.'

'And an adorable Cupid you make.' Michael grinned. 'I played Cupid once.'

'You paired up a couple of friends?'

'No, in a play.'

'Really? What was it about?'

'Cupid and Psyche. Do you know the story?'

'I saw that gorgeous sculpture at the Louvre, but no, I don't.'

'It's rather long. I wouldn't want to get into it here, at the café--I would keep you from your job. Maybe some other time...'

'Well,' Lindsey paused. 'I only have another hour left...'

Michael smiled. 'Would you like...dinner?'

Lindsey beamed. 'Yes, I would like that...very much.'

'I'll wait for you.'

She smiled. 'Then I suppose I should take your coffee order.'

The path was unusually empty for such a beautiful evening, and only a couple of runners passed Anne as she made her way towards her favorite spot: an outcropping of rock that hung over the water. She took her journal and a box of colored pencils out of her bag and settled down on the cliffs along the ocean.

The journal lay open in her lap, forgotten, as she stared out at the ocean. She was lost in thought when she heard something crunching through the underbrush behind her. Startled, she snapped the journal closed and turned to face the intruder.

'Oh, sorry.' Frederick said, holding his hands up. 'I didn't mean to startle you...'

The defensive look on Anne's face was quickly replaced by a delighted smile. 'Dickon! Come on in. I'm not used to seeing people at this part of the path.'

Frederick dropped to the rock beside her. 'Gorgeous spot to watch the sunset.' He said reflectively, gazing at the water turned golden by the sinking sun.

'Gorgeous. It's my favorite place in the entire world.'

'I can see why.' Frederick smiled. 'Lindsey told me you would be here.'

'You were at the café?'

'Yes. Michael is still there, keeping Lindsey company, I'm sure.'

'She will be in love with him by the time you return.'

Frederick shrugged. 'How have you been?'

Anne wrapped her arms around her knees, staring out over the ocean. 'Fine. I wondered if you had left the area.'

He laughed. 'No. I'm sorry I haven't been by...Hassan's been keeping us busy. He's gone now, for a week, and Michael and I get a little break.'

'That's nice.'

'So...I thought that I would come and see what you were up to.'

Anne met his eyes with a surprised smile. 'That is very nice of you.'

'Well, we've had a couple of nice moments, and I thought that maybe...' He trailed off.

'Nice moments.' Anne laughed softly, 'I watched while my sister cut you down to size, you baby-sat me on my birthday...'

'We've danced,' He smiled mischievously, 'Kissed...'

Anne blushed.

'...Skipped rocks, watched a sunset...' Frederick continued in a low voice.

'Isn't Michael waiting for you?' Anne cut in, suddenly shy.

'Why, aren't you enjoying this?' Frederick laughed.

'Very much, but if he's waiting...'

'Michael is an adult who can fend for himself.' Frederick grinned, covering Anne's hand with his. 'And, which is more, he knows that I came into town to see you.'

'Really?' Anne asked, wide-eyed.

'Really.' Frederick repeated, closing his hand around hers.

Anne returned his warm smile, then leaned back against the rocks to gaze at the brilliant sunset. Frederick dropped her hand for a moment, and then his arm was around her, and Anne's head was on his shoulder as the last glow began to fade.

Continued In Next Section