Rory woke up with a hangover. She hadn’t drank so much alcohol in a single night since spring break, and it clearly showed. It had taken a good part of the morning to get into a groove and open the bookstore. Lizzy hadn’t turned up either and Rory had no doubt that she was nursing a hangover that was much worse than her own.

Lizzy perhaps was also nursing a heartbreak, since her precious Mickey was to leave the island today. And what about my heartbreak? Rory wondered if Arsen was already aboard the plane on his way back to Los Angeles. They had come that close to an embrace, that elusive kiss, that moment of deep passion, and now he was leaving.

This love story had ended even before it began and sitting alone in that bookshop, trying to nurse that hangover, Rory was miserable. There were bills to tally, financial adjustments to be made and worse, a bridesmaid’s dress to be tried on, but her mind was distracted by thoughts of Arsen.

Why couldn’t this moment have come earlier? The guy had been residing on the island for so long and it was only on his last day here that… Rory blamed it all on luck. The luck that she never seemed to have on her side. For the umpteenth time that morning she shook the thought out of her head.

The day was sunny so far and she had no doubt that she would be getting at least some walk-in customers today. At least she hoped to. Rory grabbed the bills that had been pending and started doing the math. It was the day of reckoning. She had to see how much trouble she was in. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have to ask for assistance from her parents. It was simply of matter of whether she should ask over the phone, or when she went to LA for the wedding.

It was not what she wanted to do, but what she had to do. The only other way out of this was to shut the bookstore altogether and get another job. The idea had crossed her mind before, considering that she would probably get a good price for the inventory. The kind of cash that would keep her going for a while at least. But what then?

She was sitting with her head in her hands as the door of the bookstore opened and the first of her walk-in customers for the day walked in. Time to make some money. Hopefully.

Rory looked up from the counter and confusion reigned on her face. Confusion and disbelief. Walking toward her in jeans and a T-shirt was Arsen Ford. If someone had told her this morning that Arsen would walk in, Rory would have been full of joy, but now a strong sense of shock rushed through her body.

“Why aren’t you on a plane?” she squealed.

“Wow, seems like you’re in a hurry to get me out of here.”

“No, I meant…”

“Well, the plane hasn’t left yet. I can always rush back,” he smirked, making a half turn.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I meant…” Rory exhaled to compose herself. “I meant, weren’t you guys supposed to leave today?”

“Yes. The departure is set for today.” He paused. Rory wanted to rush him to complete his sentence but didn’t. “But I wanted to say goodbye to you first,” he finished in a calm voice.

So this is goodbye. The confused joy that she felt when Arsen had walked in left her body in haste and was filled with that same old sense of loss.

“Well…” Rory was lost for words as she came out from behind the counter and stood in front of Arsen. Should I shake his hand or something?

“Also the thought of sharing a plane ride with Mickey was not very appealing to me. So I bailed.” He was grinning. Rory was positively confused. She wasn’t sure what was going on.

“So you came to say goodbye and then get on a plane?”

“No,” he grinned.

“Then…? I’m really confused here. Are you leaving or not?”

“As much as you want me flying off on a jet plane, I am not leaving as of yet.”

“I don’t want you to leave!” The words came out too fast for her taste. “I meant that I… or anyone else for that matter doesn’t, would not want, to be rid of you. You can stay for as long as you like.” What the hell am I even saying?

“That is good to hear. Then would it be too much to ask you to spend the day with me?”

“What?” Rory was distracted by the dimples that graced his face.

“Spend a day hanging out with me.” Arsen smiled and took a couple of steps toward her.

When she had woken up that morning Rory was certain that she had seen the last of this incredible man, and somehow, he was here, right in front of her, asking to hang out with her. This was more than she could’ve dreamed of. Her concerns about his departure and the fact that it would just break her heart disappeared in the excitement.

“Sure. Why not?” She tried to be nonchalant. “Lizzy hasn’t come in anyway. I could use an assistant for the day.” Now it was her turn to smirk.

“Good. Works for me. I’d hate to go out in public and have the paparazzi ruin our day. This is a good place to hide.” He smiled.

Rory suddenly thought about how different their problems were from each other. They led such different lives as if they were living in two different worlds altogether.

“So what is it that you would like me to do?” he asked expectantly.

“Well…” Rory tried not to think too much about what she’d like him to do, lest it be written all over her face. She wanted to keep him around, in any case. “You can start by keeping me company till a customer walks in.”

“All right. Sounds good. Can I man the cash counter?” he asked.

“Be my guest.”

“Now I can also add bookstore assistant to my resume,” he said, pleased with himself, as he sat down behind the counter.

“Well—for that you have to at least make a sale,” Rory smirked.

“No problem.” Arsen looked around, grabbed a book and put it on the counter, along with a twenty dollar bill that he took out of his pocket, ringing himself in. “There you go. My first sale.”

Rory shielded her laugh with the back of her hand.

“No! Making a sale does not mean that you buy a book yourself.”

“Too bad, now it’s done,” he said, as he autographed the bill. “Now make sure that you mention this in your recommendation letter for my next employer.”

“Oh. So you haven’t sat behind the counter for five minutes and you are already thinking about the next job?”

“A man’s gotta hustle.”

“Word.” Rory bumped a fist to her chest and said it out loud in her best rapper imitation. This time, it was Arsen’s turn to laugh.

“Thinking of becoming a rapper, are we?” he said.

“Oh, dear God, no. Of all the things I have done in life, I have never ever thought of becoming a rapper.”

“So what are all the things have you done in life?”

“Well. I grew up in LA, so the usual stuff. A bunch of times I was an assistant to people who worked in the entertainment business. Chauffeuring them around, catering to their whims. I have been an assistant buyer at a small clothing brand as well, and once, at the behest of my parents, I was a full-time volunteer at the local church. You can imagine how that turned out.”

“Why? You seem like a good church-going girl,” Arsen winked.

“I have been called a lot of things but not that.” Rory chuckled. “How my mom would love to hear you say this…And I have also painted houses for a living,” she finished.

“Now that I find difficult to believe. In fact, I refuse to believe that.”

“Oh c’mon. Don’t tell me that you think that it is a man’s job?”

“Not that. I meant that a pretty girl like you would never put herself out in the harsh sun like that.”

Dammit. Stop flirting. His words were simple, but that twinkle in his eyes as he stared deep into her—that’s what made his compliments most special to her. With him she didn’t have to worry if he was just saying things. She knew he meant it.

“When I moved to LA, my first job was a nighttime security guard. Which suited me well because at the shitty building complex where I was living, you’d get to hear tons of police sirens at night. It was difficult to get good sleep. So I decided to doze off on the job instead.” He paused as if in reflection.

“In fact, that building complex, where I was crashing on an old pal’s couch, was where I first met Mickey. As the media is fond of saying, ‘the rest is history.’” He snorted sarcastically as he looked away.

“It must’ve been pretty good in the beginning?” Rory interjected, taking a seat on the high stool right opposite him.

“Absolutely. It was pretty great. He was a great singer, had a charismatic stage presence, and the first year or so was pretty darn awesome. It was all good before a lot of money started rolling in, and with that came the drugs and the parties. At that time it seemed awesome to be rich and famous but in hindsight, that is what tore the band apart.”

Arsen was still dealing with his inner turmoil. Rory could see that his attachment to the band and to his music was so intense that he easily got lost into contemplative thoughts every time he spoke of Mickey or the band.

“At times it can seem very difficult. As if there is no way out, no solution. But there is always a way,” she said in a gentle voice.

A big smile came upon Arsen’s face.

“Are you sure you haven’t been a guidance counselor as well?”

“Why?”

“There is just something about the way you give assurances. When you just said it, I really did feel like everything was going to be all right.” Arsen smiled. If only I could give such assurances to myself, Rory thought, though outwardly she flashed a smile at Arsen.

They must’ve sat by the counter and chatted for more than an hour, but to Rory it seemed like minutes. She was right about Arsen. There was certainly more to him than met the eye. Despite his perfect, muscular, rebellious good looks, he most certainly wasn’t your average, spoiled rockstar. The time went so fast, it wasn’t until her stomach made grumbling noises that she realized that it was beyond lunch time.

Rory wondered if she should order some food, but Arsen insisted that they head to the kitchen and make something themselves. To her surprise, both of them did actually throw together quite a sumptuous meal. Even doing chores with him is so much fun.

Things just became interesting when Arsen was around. It didn’t hurt that he had a sharp, sarcastic sense of humor. It also didn’t hurt that the more time she spent with him, the better he looked. I could eat you like an apple, Rory thought to herself as she bit into an actual apple and stole a glance at him. Her naughty thoughts were disturbed when the sound of his voice echoed in her ears.

“Now that we are fed and full, I think we both could use a drink… or five,” he said.

Rory chuckled.

“Every time you come here, you’re always trying to get me drunk. You better not be thinking of taking advantage of me,” Rory smirked.

“Damn. You unraveled my plan. Now I will have to think of some other way to… take advantage of you.” Arsen squinted his eyes and put on an evil smirk. After a few seconds of him holding the pose, Rory was confused if he really meant what he said, but then he broke into a big laughter.

“Chop up some apples, Aurora. I am gonna make you a drink.”

“Aurora? No one calls me Aurora anymore.” At least no one had since Grandma Colleen passed away. It felt nice. Arsen’s presence made Rory realize how accustomed she had gotten to living alone, and yet now that he was here, this beautiful house truly felt like a home.

Back in the kitchen, Arsen refused to let her see what he was up to. He took out pretty much everything that was there in the liquor cabinet and for a moment she was worried, before she remembered that he had indeed worked as a bartender before.

“Here you go.” He handed her a small wine glass that was deep red in color, with tiny apple pieces floating on top. “When I was in Spain, a barista at this completely out of the way, unfashionable bar that I frequented taught me how to make this. La Sangria, señorita.”

Rory wasn’t sure what else she was worried about as the drink was utterly delicious. They sat in the kitchen, talking quietly, sipping on their drinks. Arsen had finished two glasses in the time it took her to finish one.

“Rory. Why don’t you give me a tour of the house?”

“Sure. Let me fill up my glass first.” She winked.

As she filled her glass, Arsen started walking off on his own and as fate would have it, the first room he entered was the space she used every day as working space to chalk out her designs and make prints for the shirts.

“You’re an artist?” He was visibly surprised.

“Well... I dabble.”

“This is much more than dabbling. Wow, there is even more to you than you let on.” Arsen walked around picking up and scrutinizing different T-shirts.

“These T-shirts are fabulous. Simple, yet… very cool,” Arsen said.

Yeah, that is what everyone says. If they are so stylish then why aren’t I making bank? Rory thought. Annoyed that she had let herself drift off toward gloomy thoughts, she took a big swig of the sangria and shook her head.

“It is as if these T-shirts are making a statement. These’re not just random designs, but it seems to me that the person who created these is trying to say something,” Arsen continued.

Now it was Rory’s turn to be surprised. He had described in a few words what she herself thought about her work, or at least liked to. She could tell that he was not making it up, as he was genuinely going through each and every design of hers.

“These are really incredible. I think I like all of them. Especially this one with the space camper van.”

His genuine appreciation of her work made Rory delirious. Only an artist hungry for adulation knows the worth of every little praise. Her grandmother had encouraged her like this, till her dying day. On days when she was tempted to give it all up for a regular job, her granny had egged her on.

“Which is why I am gifting this T-shirt to you.” She smiled.

“For real? Whoa! That’s so cool.” He was excited. “Y’know, Rory, ever since I was a child, I liked camper vans and I was obsessed with space.” He chuckled. “For a while, I really wanted to be an astronaut. This T-shirt reminds me of my childhood. Thank you for this.”

“My pleasure.” Rory beamed. This was the best compliment for an artist. That others could relate to their work in their own unique way.

Arsen was like a curious child, noticing every little detail of every small thing in the room. Rory found herself reminiscing as she broke through her exterior shell and told Arsen anecdotes and stories about the different objects that populated the room. Memories of her grandmother that she deeply cherished and kept hidden deep inside of her came rushing out and she unabashedly shared them with him. As Rory got lost in her narrative, Arsen listened with patient interest.

“You really miss her, don’t you?” he said after Rory had paused and had become visibly emotional at the thought of her dead grandmother.

“More than anything.” Rory raised her hand to her mouth to stop any sobs from escaping. Damn this sangria.

“You are lucky, Rory, that you were able to spend so much time with her. Not many of us get enough time with the ones we love. And from what you told me today, she did indeed live a great life. It seems to me that in her later years, it was made all the greater because of your presence by her side. In an age where old people die alone and ignored, you’ve been a great gift for her. The greatest she could’ve asked for.”

At his words, Rory was overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, but she did not want Arsen to see her like that. Neither could she stop the single tear that slid out of her eyes and rushed down her cheek. Arsen quickly engulfed her into his arms.

When was the last time that I have been held like this? Rory hugged him tightly in return, burying her face in his broad chest. She wanted to cry, to let all the emotions out, but the way he patted the back of her head, the calmness and the surety with which he held her close, soothed her greatly. Her breathing eased and the tornado of emotions that was rolling through her passed over.

“Thank you,” she said as they parted. For what seemed like forever, they just stared into each other’s eyes. Arsen’s eyes moved gently down to her lips, and back to look into her eyes again. Rory wasn’t sure which one of them took the step forward, but they were closer to each other than before.

Her hands moved and brushed his. As they did, Arsen held them and his fingers gently clasped hers. His other hand glided down her forearm to her fingers, his thumb brushing her palm. His eyes were on her lips and hers were busy taking in the masculine beauty of this man’s face. A wickedly sexy smile curved his lips. His face was lit by the natural light of the room, showcasing the hard set to his jaw, the dark lines of his close beard.

His gaze shifted between her mouth and her eyes. They had picked up right where they left off in that room in the villa. That moment of spark that Rory never thought would appear again was well within their grasp. Rory wanted to move, to step up and kiss this man deep and hard, but she froze still.

Arsen’s dark eyes stared into hers as he moved his hand softly along her delicate jawline, an electric sensation rushing down her spine as her heart screamed at her to make the move and kiss him. He didn’t take his gaze off of her, taking his own time to drink her in. She felt desire, attraction, and after the longest time, she felt awareness of the fact that she was a woman.

The space between them lessened. A slight smile crept up on his face as he moved in slowly. She exhaled gently and closed her eyes, ready for him to take her, to claim her as his own. And then the room came alive with the sound of music. More precisely, with the sound emanating from Arsen’s phone as it started ringing.

Goddammit. She screamed in her head. Another perfect moment ruined. Arsen let the phone ring a few times, hoping it would cut off on its own, before he took it out of his jeans pocket. He looked down at the phone and then looked up at Rory.

“Gimme a moment.” As Arsen turned around to talk on the phone, Rory composed herself. Out of the corner of her eye she had seen that the name on the caller ID was Tanya Cox. For the second time in a row, Tanya had spoiled a moment between her and Arsen.

Maybe it’s just not meant to be. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from feeling hopeful and happy to feeling jealous and inadequate.

I wonder what is going on between these two? She bit her nails. Rory hated that she was thinking and feeling this way. This rollercoaster of emotions was eating at her.

“When I didn’t go with the band back to LA, Tanya offered me a ride on her own private plane. I thought we were to leave later, but I guess they’ve decided to leave right away,” Arsen said as he turned back to her.

Why is he going on a plane with her? Why didn’t he leave with his band? Suddenly a lot of questions rushed through her head.

He came closer and gently put his hands on her shoulder.

“I guess this is goodbye. For now.” The smile was melancholic. Rory’s heart sank, but she wasn’t sure if it was because Arsen was leaving or because something had changed inside of her. She hated Tanya Cox more than ever in that moment.

“I’ll walk you out,” was all she said. She was trying to speak in as calm a tone as possible, but finding it difficult to make eye contact. As she was about to turn, Arsen leaned in gently and kissed her forehead. Oh, don’t do this now. Her heart began to melt, but she ordered herself not to dissolve into his embrace. She quickly turned away and walked out toward the outer living room.

“I would invite you out to LA to our big award show gig, but you have already told me that you hate LA.” He smiled. Yeah, that is some invitation. Rory preferred that he stay quiet. A part of her realized that the distress building within her was unjustified, but she couldn’t help but be angry at him.

“Well…” she said as they approached the garden exit that was right next to the wall where Arsen had created a hole with his Ferrari. The place where they had met for the very first time.

“Well…” he replied, not smiling this time.

“Have a safe flight, Arsen,” she said with an impassive face and a neutral tone. She had no doubt that Arsen had picked up on the change in her mood.

“Take care, Rory,” he replied, stone-faced. “Good luck with everything.”

He didn’t look back. She didn’t wait to wave goodbye. Every step she took was heavy, as if her feet were chained with iron. She wanted to be inside the house away from his gaze, were he even looking, before she broke into tears. Rory didn’t know why she was feeling like this. It was not as if he were hers to keep. Not as if he had professed his love to her, and yet she had handed him her heart to break.

I am empty and aching and I don’t know why.

The house engulfed her. She barely shut the doors behind her as she rushed in. Throwing herself on the sofa, the same sofa where Arsen Ford had spent the night, she buried her face in the cushion and broke into tears. For once she did not care who heard her. She needed to cry, and she needed to let it all out right away.