Disclaimer: I don't own Orlando Bloom or any living person depicted in the story. They deserve my utmost respect.
--------------- CHAPTER THIRTEEN --------------
"Cut and print" intoned the director, and Orlando smiled as he relaxed from the pose he had adopted for the scene he had just played for "The Calcium Kid."
He walked from the studio stage to his dressing room, washed, changed, and looked at his watch.
Today Verena had already gone to pick up Zoë from kindergarten and then on to the apartment. He smiled, almost feeling like a family man.
He picked up the small parcel lying on the make-up table and left the place whistling. Verena would be pleased. Or at least he hoped she would be.
As Orlando left the filming location, he pulled the hood of his jumper over his head while he stopped a cab.
"The Calcium Kid" was a low-budget movie, and it had many pros and cons. The cons were that he had a killer schedule and the three weeks were absolute madness. The pros were that he was back in England, could go visit his mother and see his sister Sam, was working again, and had V and Zoë all to himself, sharing his small apartment.
At first, the lodging arrangements had been a discussion that had almost taken all the flight time from LA to London. But in the end, he had gotten what he wanted.
************************
"V, I don't see why you think it is better if Zoë and you stay in a hotel. It's just for three weeks and I think we can manage if we all stay at my place …," he had tried to convince her.
"No, Orlando. First, I don't want to invade your flat. In LA we had plenty of space to share. In London I don't think it would be comfortable for either of us. Second, we will be in a virtual tabloid heaven…, imagine the headlines? 'HOT RINGS-ELF LIVING IN SIN WITH ELDERLY SINGLE MOTHER.' No way. Third … well there must be a good reason. Let me think," she argued. Verena was getting paler by the minute. "Excuse me, I have a thing with closed spaces and airplanes." She closed her eyes and began a yoga exercise to feel better.
"V, I want to spend as much time I have left with Zoë. Please? And it would be great: we could coordinate agendas and you would be sure I was behaving. And I am sure Zoë would be much more comfortable in a flat than in a hotel. Please?" he begged.
Verena sighed in between her deep breathing sequence. Whatever. In that exact instant she only wanted to be able to enter nirvana and make her head and stomach settle.
"We will discuss this on arrival, Orlando," she managed to say, before a slight bump of the plane made her catch her breath.
He leaned closer, out of Zoë's hearing: "Though I loved the part about living in sin …"
Verena opened her eyes and gave him a look that would have killed another man. She mumbled, "I bet you do …"
Orlando laughed and got her a cup of fresh water. Then he settled in his seat and pulled Zoë onto his lap.
"Come, munchkin, we will play a bit until mamma feels better."
Zoë looked up to him with undisguised adoration. "Sure, Orli. Tic tac toe? Hangman? Gameboy? Or you may read me some more Harry Potter …"
It was Orlando's turn to sigh. "Your most humble slave, my princess. As you wish."
***********************
Verena had to recognize that without Orlando that flight could have been sheer hell. It was the first time she was traveling with Zoë and without Rita. And her airsickness was worse than ever.
Okay, without Orlando she probably wouldn't be traveling to London, and even if she were, it most certainly wouldn't be with Zoë. But coming here had been a conspiracy against her.
Once Fiona and George had told them that Orlando had to film for three weeks in England, he had promised Zoë that he would take her along and show her his family and his dog. That was a promise not even Verena could undermine.
So, they had all flown to London. Fiona had found a Kindergarten which Zoë could attend while Orlando and Verena were on set and working and she also had promised to arrange a fine hotel for Verena and Zoë.
But Verena had conceded to Orlando. Just this once. They were going to give it a try and stay the first days at Orlando's flat.
As they left the VIP lounge of Heathrow, Orlando carried Zoë, who had fallen asleep. Verena prayed to all her known deities that there were no photographers at the airport.
*******************
Ten days later, Verena and Zoë were still Orlando's guests.
It had taken a couple of days of adjusting, but Orlando showed that he could be as stubborn as V and Zoë together and determinedly shrugged off the awkward moments. Like the one-bathroom sharing experience. Orlando had accidentally found himself washing his hair with bubblegum-scented children's body wash once. But he'd managed to hide the condoms he usually kept more or less out in the open. They were now safely tucked away in a drawer way out of a certain little girl's reach. He also had to be aware of simple things, like remembering to lock the door when he was showering. Or the fact that Verena took it personally when someone used up the warm water at 6 am. But in all cases, Orlando put his best effort into making things run as smoothly as possible.
He had the feeling that Verena was putting him to the test, to see if he was able to manage sharing the place with them.
She took care of all the house stuff with a professionalism that amazed him, but she was also clearly stressed by trying to keep up housekeeping, work and hyperactive Zoë. There, he was the biggest support she had. And Verena appreciated it.
He had succeeded in pulling through all the awkward situations so far, which gave him a sensation of having won a battle. But he knew that winning the war would be a little more tricky.
As he reached his apartment, he heard the music coming out of it and smiled. They were home. When he entered the flat, he saw the place with new eyes, as he often did since Verena and Zoë had been staying there. Though V made an effort to keep everything in perfect order, his eyes fell immediately upon a drawing block and some crayons on the carpet, a children's book on a chair, and a Legolas action figure on the table. Zoë.
He called loud enough to be heard over the music. "Ladies, I am hoooome!"
The little whirlwind that was Zoë ran out of the kitchen and threw herself at him.
"Hello, Orli!!! Its great that you arrived, because I am Hermione Granger today and I want you to be Harry Potter and Mamma to be Ron and we can play the chess-game-scene. I have soooooo been waiting for you! Please?"
He hugged her while she kissed both his cheeks and prattled her greeting all in one breath.
"Just let me arrive, munchkin, and I promise we will play. Have I ever broken my promise?" he said, setting her down disentangling himself from the tablecloth she wore as a cape, and being careful not to poke his eye out with her "magic wand".
"You promised that you would introduce me to Maude and your family, Orli. That's one promise you have not kept yet," pouted Zoë.
"You will, love, " he said.
Verena walked out of the kitchen, smiling while she wiped her hands on her ancient jeans. She had been making dinner; he could tell by the fine dusting of flour on her sweatshirt.
"Hello Orlando. How was the afternoon shooting? Any trouble after I left?"
Orlando sighed loudly but kept on smiling. "It was great, smooth. Almost every shot was printed," he picked up an olive and threw it in the air, catching it with his mouth. "Have I mentioned that Sam is coming over tonight, V?" He saw the frown on her face and knew instantly that he was doomed. But she wouldn't have in argument in front of Zoë.
"Orli!!!! Sam is your sister, right? The one that took care of Maude? And will she bring Maude along?" squealed Zoë hopping around excitedly.
"Yes, love, she is my sister. But I don't think she will bring Maude along. Maude is in Kent with my mother," he continued following Verena's reactions from the corner of his eye.
Verena's smile froze a bit. "Chip, would you please go to our room and tidy up your toys? Take those lying around here as well, would you? Orlando is having visitors."
"Of course Mamma. Do you think Sam would also like to play with us, Orli?" asked the child.
"Maybe she would. Go, love."
Zoë hopped into the spare bedroom singing, excited about meeting someone that belonged to Orlando's family.
He turned to Verena. Man, she was beyond upset.
"I don't recall you mentioning a visitor, Orlando," she said calmly.
"She … I … we just got on the phone a couple of hours ago and you had already left the set … but there is no problem, I mean, you don't have to do a thing," he stuttered, a bit upset himself. What was he apologizing for? It was his place, right?
"You could have given me some warning," she continued. Her voice was even but he sensed her annoyance.
Verena was very upset. And scared. Damn him! She did not want to meet any of his family. She was trying to keep her distance, for heaven's sake! What if they didn't like her? She shouldn't care. But she did.
Orlando frowned as well. He did not understand what the big deal was about. He guessed it had something to do with having enough dinner for everyone.
"I will get some take-out food. Is it okay with you?" he suggested.
Verena turned into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. She took a long, steadying gulp, trying to get a grip on herself.
"Whatever you want, Orlando. It is your family, it is your home", she said.
That was almost too much, Orlando walked up to her in three strides.
"Oh no, you are not going to play that one on me now," he said standing inches away from her, their noses almost touching. Their eyes met and battled. The air between them was electric.
Orlando's mind was filled with thoughts of actually forgetting everything else and kissing this woman senseless. Verena felt something similar, and couldn't help her breathing from speeding up.
Orlando summoned all self-control he could.
"I am sorry, V. I should have arranged this with you," he whispered.
Verena closed her eyes and swallowed. "It's okay, we can fix something. I … will be pleased to meet you sister. Zoë most certainly will." And turning around, she emptied the water glass into the sink, trying to steady her shaking hands and wishing for a minute she could pour it over herself.
************************
Sam was definitely a dear. Though she seemed to be somewhat surprised when Orlando told her that Verena was his Public Relations Agent. There was certainly a strange tension between them. But she liked the older woman right away.
Sam and Zoë were immediately best friends. Talk about love at first sight. Sam observed Orlando through dinner and she would have sworn he was head over heels with his PR-Agent.
After a while of friendly chatting, Verena took Zoë to bed, and Samantha and Orlando left the flat. Orlando had offered to walk his sister home.
"She is very nice," commented Sam after the first half of the block they walked in silence. Orlando had slung one arm over her shoulder, holding his sister close.
"Yeah, she is. I mean, she is bloody amazing. She was a photojournalist for many years and she makes the most wonderful pictures. You like her?" he asked, not really looking over to Samantha, but keeping his eyes on the sidewalk.
"Zoë was a photojournalist?" asked Sam and immediately got a reaction, as Orlando looked at her in surprise.
"Zoë? I meant Verena! But the munchkin is really special, isn't she?" he said, while he blushed to the roots of his hair.
Samantha giggled. "For Christ's sake, Orli, I know you meant Verena. I was just pulling your leg."
"Well, you caught me there then," he replied and fumbled a bit with his jacket.
"I'd rather say that you are well caught by them, daughter and mother," said Sam.
"Does it show that much?" Orlando asked.
"Well, not to anybody that doesn't know you as well as I or mum do. Specially if they don't see you with them in a room," she answered .
"Let's say that I never expected it. But now I dread the moment the contract and my excuse for being around them are over," he confessed.
"Does she know?" asked Sam.
"Zoë? Yeah we have this mutual adoration syndrome thing going …" Orlando said winking at his sister.
"You know I meant Verena this time," Samantha said.
"She and I are aware that there is …. hmmmm, physical attraction between us. But she doesn't know I'd love to stay with them as long as possible. Verena just doesn't see me in that light I guess," he said shrugging .
"You mean as an equal? As someone that she could maybe date and share her life with?" she continued.
"Sam, when V and I first met she thought I was a spoiled brat looking for attention and a wild life. After that we got to be friends," he said. "Now I just want her to see me as a grown man."
"Maybe she does, but she just doesn't show it. She is not immune to your charms, you know?", she said, touched by her brother feeling that awkward about a woman.
"You think so?" he asked.
Samantha smiled broadly, with her brother's smile and dimples. "Love, I don't think so, I KNOW so. She seems to be a very intelligent person. She will realize."
"Realize? I don't think so. Realize what, that I'd sell my soul to be with them?" Orlando replied, running his fingers nervously through his hair.
"There is much to realize, Orli, and that on both sides," she looked around and saw they had arrived at her building. "Don't despair, love. Everything will be fine."
Orlando gave his sister a big hug and left.
**************
After her daughter fell asleep, V settled on the couch, not feeling like going to sleep right away and finding the half empty bottle of Riesling wine on the table.
She thought that Sam was beautiful, witty, intelligent, and nice. Totally her wavelength. And V couldn't help liking her, though she felt pretty nervous about her being Orlando's one and only sister.
'What the heck was she worrying about?' she told to herself, drinking some more great white wine. It shouldn't matter at all, because they had only five more weeks to go on this contract and then Verena and Orlando would part and either greet one another civilly at parties or never see each other again. The thought made Verena feel … sad. And then there was Zoë. He was wonderful with her daughter and their relationship had grown out of control. She had known that Zoë was becoming too attached to Orlando and the imminent separation would break her little girl's heart. But it was a no win situation. Zoë would suffer when it was over, and so would V. Because she liked him, a lot. She had already recognized she was in love with him, but so were thousands of women and girls all over the world, according to the Internet. And for V, loving Orlando was luxury she could not afford.
Verena drank the contents of her glass in one quick gulp. In another five glasses she wouldn't worry about anything else in the world. Especially not Orlando Bloom, work, or her life.
**************
When Orlando got home, the room was lit by only one small lamp on a side table. Verena sat on the couch, her arms wrapped around her knees, absently sipping white wine and listening to some soft music coming from the stereo.
She didn't seem to notice his arrival, and he walked over and sat down beside her.
"Are you okay, V? Not tired?" he asked and reached for another glass of wine for himself.
Verena looked at him and gave him a tired smile. She seemed to be preoccupied. "Everything is fine. You?"
"All well. I delivered Sam safely to her door and came home." After saying it, Orlando realized that in fact he had hurried home. To be with her, with Zoë, to savor every minute with them. He was aware that time was running out, like sand escaping through his fingers.
Verena was still kind of absent, and Orlando remembered the gift. He fetched the parcel and set it on Verena's knees. She looked up to him questioningly.
"I saw it as I was driving past and knew you'd like it. I hope I am not mistaken," he said somewhat shyly.
Verena bent her legs down and sat now cross-legged on the couch. She opened the parcel and smiled as she recognized the colorful design on the CD's cover: Santana's "Shaman". She was speechless. Her eyes met his and her face lit up. She forced herself to speak.
"I am very very pleased, Orlando. It is terribly thoughtful of you. I mean, you didn't have to. We are working together. But I love it, thank you." And giving in to the impulse, she reached out for him and gave him a quick affectionate hug. They parted feeling a bit awkward since Orlando didn't dare to hug her back. He didn't trust himself to let her go again.
But he was overjoyed at her reaction.
"I am happy to give you something you enjoy, V. And we are friends, you know?"
His soft voice was alluring and soothing. Verena felt its sound like a caress. But she was trying to gain some distance between them, to make the weeks to pass as pleasantly as possible for both.
"We are friends, Orlando. Still, I wish to thank you again. Would you like to listen to the CD?" she asked, looking for a way to step away from him.
"Sure, please," he said, settling in the couch and refilling their glasses with the last of the wine.
She put the CD in the stereo and the rhythm of the percussion filled the room. It was again a strange but enticing sound to Orlando and he observed as Verena closed her eyes and instinctively moved to it.
There she was, her body another part of the song and swaying like it belonged to Santana's music. Just like the time she had danced with Viggo. When Orlando had discovered he wanted her.
But this time, there was no Viggo, and he wanted not only her body, he wanted her friendship, her love, her warmth, and her temper. All of her, period.
Still, he could not resist the lure. He stood up and walked quietly up to her and said softy, "Would you teach me?"
Her eyes flew open, and she held his gaze. "Teach you?"
"To dance to this kind of music. Latin stuff," he answered, and hoped she wouldn't refuse.
And she did not. "Sure, why not. It is easy, in fact. Come on," she said, pulling her sweatshirt over her head and kicking off her shoes, standing there barefoot in her jeans and a tight top.
Orlando followed her example and got rid of his jumper and shoes. He walked up to her again.
The dance started off a bit awkwardly; Orlando stepped on her foot and couldn't manage to catch the rhythm. He raked his fingers through his tousled hair in exasperation.
"Sorry, I am a clumsy oaf," he apologized.
"It's OK," laughed Verena, "Let's start again. Don't' try so hard, honey."
"Ah, damn... sorry again," Orlando sighed frustrated. This was getting to be just too much torture. One last try. "Just tell me what to do, you know? Like left foot, right foot, left foot, turn?"
Verena stifled her amused laugh. "But it doesn't really... hmmm... All right then, how about this." She placed a hand on the small of Orlando's back. He jumped a little in surprise.
"Put your hand here," she instructed tapping her hip. "No, firmly, like this. As if you didn't want to let go. Stand with your feet a bit apart, close your eyes, and try to catch the rhythm. Your feet mark the bass drum 1… 2 … 1… 2, easy, honey, easy. Don't try too hard. Feel it … just feel it."
Orlando tried to focus on the rhythm but her hand on his back was setting his blood on fire. He managed though to concentrate on the music, and somehow he caught the beat.
Her low, velvety voice was leading his moves. "Great, Orlando, you are doing just fine. You caught it; let the motion travel up from your feet to your hips, and then to your shoulders …. Don't force it, you are doing great, keep moving. Now, just concentrate on the hips. Forget you are moving your feet or hands. Just listen to the music. There's a direct line from the music center of your brain to the center of your body; that's why people like music so much."
"Really?" he asked, with a hint of disbelief.
"I don't know, but it makes sense to me," answered V, smiling broadly at him.
Santana's guitar lead into Macy Gray's hoarsely persuading voice:
It's like the ocean baby
You make me feel so sexy
Love so understating
For only you I'm waiting
You turn me on
My love is on and on
Verena felt how his closeness was affecting her and forced herself to resist the urge to step even closer to him. She barely got a grip and her breathing became labored.
She continued, "So just... swing your hips."
"How?" he asked innocently, with the look of a fallen angel.
"Well... like... like the rhythm tells you. Like..." she blushed uncomfortably as she gyrated her hips against his, as if they were making love. "See? It's easy."
You touch me makes me crazy
I feel your body and me
It's like the ocean at sea
My love is never ending
You and me
It's like a dream my baby
"Yeah, easy," he hissed, having trouble breathing.
Both closed their eyes matching their movements to the music and to each other.
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on and on
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on
Orlando's hands rested on Verena's hips. Their movements fell into perfect synchronicity. . The warmth radiating from their hands through the clothing was reaching every single nerve end of their bodies.
It's like the wind beneath me
The passion flows so freely
Close to you I get free
whenever you fill my needs
I turn you on
My love is on and on and
Verena tried to break the tension by talking, "Now you can... hmmmm... move your hands... if, if you want."
"Like this?" OB placed his both hands on her hips, pressing them closer together, breaching the couple of centimeters that separated their bodies so that they were lined up hip to hip, their torsos touching. His hand traveled to the small of her back, his touch getting lighter, trailing up her spine.
"Um... yeah... that's... that's good. Then you move your feet. The motion goes from your feet to the rest of your body. Let it flow," Verena instructed, closing her eyes at the sensations she was feeling.
"This is starting to be like my type of dancing," Orlando whispered hoarsely.
"What's that like?" she asked, locking her eyes on his.
"Well, you move your hips together, too, but you also do this," he slid one leg between hers and moved so that one of her legs was between his. "Your arms go around like this." His fingers had reached her shoulders and trailed up the back of her arms causing goose bumps to rise. She closed her eyes, letting him adjust her limbs. He gently caught her wrists and lifted them until her hands were winding around his neck. "And then my hands go around your hips like this." The slight trailing of his hands all the way back down made Verena's skin tingle.
I feel it all in my knees
And I know how good it will be
It's like the wind beneath me
My love is never ending
You and me
It's like a dream my baby
Verena lifted her eyes and found Orlando looking at her intently, drinking in the sinuous motion of her body and making her feel like the most desirable woman alive. Their bodies were making love, even if they were not having sex. All her resolve from earlier vanished, as she blamed her loss of control on the wine and reached her hands up to his head, threading her fingers through his soft longish curls and pulled him to her face, pausing again before she slowly, tauntingly licked his lips, as if requesting permission, seeking acquiescence.
His hands tightened on the small of her back, to pull her closer and he nodded imperceptibly.
They kissed, with all the hunger of their souls and the longing of their hearts. Their bodies molded together, still swaying to the notes of Santana in the background.
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on and on
Amore, sexo
Amore, my love is on and on*
Zoë stood at the entrance of the living room and saw the entwined couple.
Quietly, she turned around and walked back to her bed, with a big smile on her face. Maybe Orlando would stay with them after all.
***
* Lyrics belong to "Amore, sexo", by Carlos Santana and Macy Gray (2002)
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