As the bus inched through the traffic on Sunset Boulevard, Jordan watched the palm trees lining the street go by. She wished she told Lucky about the job offer and everything, but seeing her work so hard on her songs, Jordan knew Lucky didn't need the distraction. She'd have a chance to share her news soon enough.

Wearing the nicest outfit she brought with her, a sleeveless sheer front black tunic with flocked skulls, a black longline bra underneath, and a pair of black leggings, Jordan was ready to meet with Ian. She planned to take a cab to Ian's to see the apartment and talk more about the job. She wished the tour bus could move faster. She didn't want it to look obvious to Lucky that she was going anywhere.

Sitting by the window with Dylan beside her in jeans and another black t-shirt, she grew more nervous as it seemed they'd never make it to the studio. Ian was expecting her and she didn't want to be late.

"Geez, I could walk faster," she muttered to herself.

"Did you say something?" Dylan asked.

"No. Well, yes, but not really. Just that I could walk faster."

"Nervous?"

"Duh."

When the bus finally reached SIR Studios, Dylan pulled Jordan aside as everyone got off the bus.

"Did I do something?" he asked.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"I really thought you'd ask me to go with you."

"I didn't think you'd want to. Plus don't you need to rehearse?"

She really didn't understand him. Why would he want to come with her? Not asking him was her way of letting him off the hook. She knew once the tour was done they were history anyway. At least that's what she convinced herself.

"Yeah, but I can get some time away. I won't let them know. Besides, last I checked with Lucky, she still wanted to add some final touches to the new songs before we learn them."

"Okay, if you really want to come."

"Listen, I know you'll never admit it, but this is important to you. And if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me. If you don't want me there, just say so."

"No, it’s not that I don't want you there..." Jordan said as she tried to look away from his piercing brown eyes.

"Then what is it?"

"I…I guess I'm just not used to this. I'm not used to someone wanting to be there."

"Then get used to it."

Dylan was right, Lucky needed more time for the new songs so the band had a break before rehearsals. Jordan really wanted him to go with her, she just didn't believe anyone would really want to. They took a cab out to Ian Taylor's warehouse studio in Santa Monica.

As the cab drove onto the narrow Santa Monica street, Jordan thought everything looked different. Bright sunlight reflected off the pale grey exterior of the warehouse and a warm breeze swayed the palm trees. She got out of the cab, paid the driver, then looked at the address again.

"What's wrong?" Dylan asked.

"It looks different than last time. Was it always so pretty?"

"Looks the same to me," Dylan said and shrugged.

"Really?" She looked around and listened to the nearby crashing of the waves on the beach. "I guess I was in my own world."

As she opened the large warehouse door, Jordan felt her heart racing. She didn't believe she was qualified to help Ian, and she worried the trip to meet with him would put an end to all her hopes of having a new job and a place to live.

Inside the warehouse, black-out curtains were drawn over the windows to keep the sunlight out. On a black draped set in front of a green screen, Ian had a model wearing a light blue bikini and a white Russian fur hat while holding a bottle of vodka. As Jordan approached, she saw on the monitor that the green screen was being used to shoot her in front of a snowy background.

Dressed again in dark slacks, but this time with a pale pink button down shirt, Ian instructed the model what to do as he continued taking photos. Jordan didn't speak. She didn't want to interrupt, so she and Dylan stayed out of the way as she waited to talk with Ian.

"It's about time, Pixie Girl. I keep my stuff over there," Ian said as he motioned with a jerk of his head towards a couple of other cameras next to lenses and filters. "Give me the Nikon with the 55mm and an 81A. Now."

Jordan quickly got the camera ready and brought it over to Ian. As he took it, he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"Get it out of your mind that you're not good enough. You think anyone else here would've even understood what I just asked for?" Standing straight, Ian went back to barking. "Pixie, upstairs. Go, go! I'm busy here. Make yourself useful."

Grabbing Dylan's arm, she led him up the stairs where they entered a small hallway with two doors. There was an envelope with her name on one of the doors. The envelope contained a note and a key.

"What's it say?" Dylan asked.

"Just that he thought I'd rather look at the apartment without him hovering and to make ourselves comfortable. He'll be up as soon as he's done."

"He seems like a jerk. You sure you want to work for him and live so close to him?"

"Things aren't always as they seem."

She grinned at him as she unlocked the door. The apartment was small but bright, with floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the entire side. Looking past the tall palm trees, she could see the Santa Monica Pier and the ocean.

As they walked through the apartment, their footsteps echoed on the recently varnished wood floors throughout the sparsely furnished apartment. The living room only had a couple of old, yellow striped chairs and an ancient TV. In the corner by the kitchen was a card table with two folding chairs. Lastly, the bedroom had an air mattress rolled up in the corner.

Jordan walked through the small apartment several times. "It's absolutely perfect," she said, unable to stop smiling.

"I can't keep doing this, Jordan. We need to talk. You've been pushing me away since I told you I love you."

"I told you, I need time."

She covered her face with her hands as tears began to sting her eyes. Sitting down on one of the upholstered chairs, she took a couple of deep breaths as she tried to regain her composure. It was no use though. Every time she looked at him, her heart pounded in her chest. She realized then that she could lose him.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered.

"You're not going to."

"Yes, I am. I know I am. As soon as this tour is over, you'll go away again. You'll meet someone new. And she'll probably be taller and prettier and less fucked up than me."

"I don't want to meet anyone else. No matter how much taller than you they are," he said as he kneeled on the floor in front of her, as he held her hands and smiled.

She laughed and wiped away a runaway tear. "I'm trying to be serious."

"Then listen to me. My entire life I've been going from one place to the next. Now I finally have a reason to stay put, to be in one place, and that place is with you. I can't imagine my life without you."

"But I can't promise you anything," she said. "I know you want to live together, but I know where that leads. I love you, but I can't even think like that. I can't look into the future."

"Do you want to be with me?"

"More than anything."

"Do you want to see me every day?"

"I want to sleep in your arms every night."

"Then we don't have a problem," he said. "I promise I won't push all that other stuff. We can take it as slow as you want."

"I promise I won't wall you off or push you away. I just need to get used to seeing myself through my own eyes, and not my parents'."

"Well, in my eyes, you're perfect."

Ian knocked on the open door and entered.

"I don't mean to interrupt. Is the apartment okay?" Ian asked.

"It's perfect," she said. "It really is. I'm so grateful, Ian. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it. It's available whenever you're ready to move in. You can start work then, too."

"Sounds good. Dylan and I will move in after the tour," Jordan said as she realized she was the happiest she had ever been.