Disclaimer: I don't own Orlando Bloom or any living person depicted in the story. They deserve my utmost respect.
---------------------------- CHAPTER THREE---------------------------
Verena closed the door connecting to Orlando's apartment and leaned against it. She heard Orlando's tirade and grinned.
'Well, if I were him, I would have done the same at least,' she mused.
Nope, she would have reacted even worse.
But she wasn't twenty-five anymore. Sometimes, she felt as if she were a hundred years old. All the things she had seen had turned her skeptical toward people who entered her life.
And then she thought of her very own private miracle, the one that outweighed everything else and lit up her rather lonely existence: Zoë.
Verena's grin turned into an authentic smile as she kicked off her high-heeled shoes, picked them up, and walked to Zoë's room.
"Still awake, lovey?" she asked, though she knew her daughter wouldn't sleep without a goodnight peck if her mother was in town.
"Yes, Mamma. I was waiting for you. Is the person who's going to live with us already here?" asked Zoë from her bed.
"Mr. Bloom is already upstairs, Zoë. I want you to behave and not bother Mr. Bloom as long as he is a guest in our house," Verena said, tucking the little girl in.
"Is Mr. Bloom nice, Mamma?" asked the child.
"I think he might be nice, Chip, but he isn't very happy right now. You see, for him, living with us is kind of like... being grounded. Be nice to him, lovey. Goodnight, now. Sleep well." Verena kissed her daughter's forehead, turned off the light, and left the room
****************
Sunlight streamed into the attic-apartment and soon fell directly on Orlando's face. He turned and tried to block the light with a pillow, but it was much too bright. He moaned, turned again, and, blinking, adjusted to waking up in a strange place. Orlando looked around through half-open eyelids and recognized the room and the situation. 'Fuck. I don't want to wake up,' he thought, and was turning again when he saw a little figure sitting in a sofa across of his bed, watching him with apparent interest, with a drawing tablet spread out on its lap, a sheet of paper and crayons.
Orlando tried to focus. It was a child, a little girl, sitting cross-legged, observing him in HIS bedroom. He tried to remember if he was actually wearing something. A quick check revealed a tee-shirt and discrete boxers. Not much, but at least he wasn't naked. He sat up in the bed.
"What are you doing in my room?" he asked, trying not to frighten the child away.
She gave him a brilliant smile and began: "Good morning Mr. Bloom, and welcome to our home. I am Zoë, and I am very happy to meet you. Please do not tell Mamma I was actually here, in your room. She might be upset about that, but I really had to see you. And she went shopping with Rita. It is rather late, you know, and we shouldn't let the day run away from us, and she couldn't wait for you to wake up, and you do not know your way around the house. So she left and told me to wait downstairs but I just couldn't, and she said I am in charge of you and the house until they come back. Would you like some breakfast?"
Orlando was torn between cursing the stars for the rotten luck that had brought him into a loony-house, where even the children were insane, or letting this funny little girl win him over. The second impulse was stronger. He laughed out loud and stretched his hand over to the child.
"Nice to meet you, Zoë. My name is Orlando, or better yet, Orli. You are Verena's daughter?" he asked.
Zoë shook his hand enthusiastically and started again, "Yes, Verena is my Mamma. She is very nice you know, even though she can be very grumpy sometimes when people are dumb or late or just don't behave; she just hates that. But in her work it is very important to organize things and use your time wisely and be the best, and I want to be just like her when I grow up, or maybe not a photographer but an artist or an actress and sail around the world in a big blue boat. Mamma says I can be whatever I want to be, but be the best and enjoy my work. You like her? I hope you do."
Orlando had to pay a lot of attention to the amount of information Zoë threw his way every time she spoke. He liked the little one very much, and he could have saved himself the question about her parentage because it was very obvious. Zoë was an exact replica of Verena in a smaller package, though the girl had warm brown eyes instead of green ones. Her almond-shaped eyes shone when she spoke and her smile lit up her whole face.
"Tell you what, lovey, let me dress and I will join you for breakfast, okay?" he said.
Zoë nodded. "Okay, Orli. Just remember next time to put your pajamas on, you know, you may catch a cold and then Mamma would have to rub your back and temples with mint-oil and Rita would have to make you hot lemonade with honey and I would have to come over and read to you if you were in bed. You should take care, Orli. Being sick isn't fun, even though you don't have to go to school. I will wait for you outside and finish my masterpiece."
She picked up her crayons, and sheets of paper and left the room.
Orlando stood up, making sure that the door was closed before letting the sheet fall off his waist. He always wore a T-shirt and his boxers for the night, but he was sure that wasn't a proper outfit to wear around a little girl, especially a non-family little girl.
He sighed, recognizing he would have to wear pajamas from now on. Just for the kid's sake. And since he had been given the no-sex-in-the-house rule, he just might wear the dammed pj's.
As he remembered Verena's rules, he felt his anger rise again.
But, slowly, he began to conceive a plan that would make "The Witch" feel as helpless as he felt.
What a perfect counterattack: he would thoroughly spoil little Zoë. Buy her things, take her to the park, encourage her to chatter about him incessantly to her mamma. This would be so much fun!
Orlando whistled while he dressed. It was a fine morning indeed.
When Verena returned from shopping, she wondered if it had been right to leave Zoë alone in the house with Orlando. What if he were some mean pervert, besides being a brat? What if something happened to Zoë and the young man didn't have at least one working gray cell or common sense in an emergency situation?
'Verena, you are being paranoid,' she told herself. George would never put someone dangerous or unstable in her house. And Zoë was an intelligent, independent child. Verena often forgot that her daughter was only five years old.
She parked the jeep and slowly unloaded the shopping bags with Rita. Verena had talked with Rita about cooking more on the vegetarian side and avoiding dairy products. She couldn't leave the annoying kid on his own, could she?
On the other hand, she had reflected on her speech to him about rules and wondered if it had been wise to give Orlando a reason to rebel. Verena had absolutely no experience with younger men past their teenage years. Men in general had become a rarity in her life, except those involved with her work. She didn't want to waste time she could be spending with Zoë.
Verena was pleased and also surprised at the sight that greeted her as she entered the kitchen. Zoë was pouring cereal into a bowl, and Orlando was at the fridge, rummaging for something. They were chatting amicably, about dogs it seemed.
The child was the first to notice their arrival.
"Hello Mamma! Orli and I are having breakfast together. He is looking for soymilk. Did you buy some? Imagine, he has a dog, Mamma, a nice dog-lady called Maude. But Maude is back in England, where his family lives. But he doesn't have a Pappa, just like me. Orli is very nice, Mamma, just as you said he would be," said Zoë, who had jumped on her mother and was hugging her.
"Good morning Orlando. I hope you had a restful night. Is everything okay? Meet Rita, our housekeeper and Zoë's nanny," Verena said, introducing him to the silent woman who was unloading the bags. Rita nodded in greeting and flashed him a bright smile as she retrieved the soymilk from one of the shopping bags and gave it to him.
As Verena looked at Orlando, she understood why female fans fell all over him. That handsome face was incredible on celluloid or paper. This man had charisma, and was sympathetic on sight. He was wearing old jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers and his hair was a bit ruffled. He had a lazy smile on his face as he reached for the soymilk.
"Good morning, V, pleasure to meet you Rita. I had a very good night's sleep, thank you. And I am in fine company. Zoë is a great hostess. Thank you for the soymilk. May I help you unload the bags?" he said.
Orlando's grin was plastered to his face. Okay, it was logical that Ms. Witch Devereaux wouldn't go shopping in stiletto heels and a suit, but the woman that held Zoë around her waist with one hand while unloading the shopping bags with the other didn't seem the same one from last night. She wore ancient jeans, sneakers, a faded jeans-shirt and her shoulder-length hair was flying away from her face carelessly. She smiled at him and then smiled at her daughter, while pulling a box of cereal out of one of the bags and giving it to Zoë. The child kissed her mother and ran with the box over to Orli.
"See Orli, this is the cereal that comes with Star Wars trading cards. Do you want some? You simply must like it, it's great! Mamma said that we might go to see the movie, now that she is back home. Do you want to go with us? Maybe we could go today or tomorrow? Do you like Star Wars? I love it and so does Mamma. Did you know she saw the original Star Wars when she was a kid? I mean she saw it when it first came out! I had to watch them all on video ... did you see all the movies?" Zoë said, showing Orli the trading card that came with the cereal.
"Zoë, I am sure Orlando would appreciate as much as I do if you tried to talk a bit slower and in shorter sentences. You sound like a wind-up doll, chip. Now go with Rita while I fetch myself a cup of tea and sit down with Orlando for a nice chat," intervened Verena, steering Zoë away from an obviously overwhelmed Orlando. She watched her daughter skip out of the kitchen with Rita, then, grinning, turned to Orlando with a sheepish grin.
Verena served herself a cup of tea and sat in the corner-table they used for family meals. Orlando took the cue and sat across of her, serving himself another cup.
"I am sorry if she annoys you, Orlando. Zoë has always been an overflowing source of information since she learned to talk," Verena apologized.
"Well I think she is very entertaining and funny and lively. Though it is good you aren't a secret agent or in government service. That would be hard for you both," replied Orlando laughing.
"I know, that would my doom!" she laughed with him.
After drinking a bit of tea, both opened their mouths to speak.
"I ..." started both.
Orlando grinned and bowed with his head. "Ladies first".
Verena smiled and started again. "I wanted to apologize for the tone I used last night talking to you. You haven't done anything to deserve it, yet . I would like to coordinate activities with you; I think we must make an effort to get along. You have any thoughts on the topic?"
Orlando's smile froze. 'What? I haven't done anything yet? Just wait and see, love,' he thought. Instead he said, "I am looking forward to getting along with you, V " Verena wasn't a recognized photographer for nothing. She saw through his smile. 'Caught you, kid. We will work this out or die in the effort.'
"Well Orlando, then let's gets started right away. What are your plans for today?" she asked smiling sweetly.
'Controlling, overbearing, insufferable wench,' Orlando's mind flooded with epithets, none of them very gracious. He had to comply and then bid his time. He would find a way out of the clutches of this woman.
*******************
After the first two weeks living in Verena's house, Orlando still hadn't found a way to "recover his freedom," as he described the situation to Elijah and Atti on the phone.
Lij had been to Orli's place a couple of times and thought the apartment was cool. He had also met Verena and thought the woman was absolutely hot.
"I can't believe you think she is a bitch, Orli. You say she doesn't let you throw parties or bring female company over, but hey, you are in her house, right?" said Elijah finishing Rita's scrumptious fruit-pancakes.
Orlando was especially cranky today; Atti had promised to visit in a couple of weeks and he was still uncomfortable having to talk to Verena about it. Hell, Atti was his friend and he shouldn't have to ask permission of anybody if his buddy wanted to stay at his place. Only that this wasn't HIS place; but his nemesis' place.
"You don't get the point Lij, do you?" he said.
"Come on, Orli, the woman only gave you minimum rules of behavior. My mom doesn't let me do that at her place either. And Rita is a goddess in the kitchen. What else do you want, man? Is celibacy so hard on you?" said Elijah.
"The point is Lij, she is not my bloody mother. And I am not a bloody twenty-year-old. I am like a prisoner here!" ranted Orli.
"Now Orli, I might get insulted by that, since I am twenty one, but I won't for two reasons: first, it's almost true, and second, if I fight with you I won't be able to come over and enjoy Rita's cooking. So, I will just ignore your ranting. If you are in such dire need of getting laid, buddy, then get laid outside the place! There is no rule against that, right?" he reflected.
"No there isn't ... you are a genius Lij! We only have to find an opportunity for me to stay out, or at least return, very late at night ... hmmm ... there are no award-shows or things like that in the near future ... " Orli caught himself before he grabbed his agenda. Fuck, he had even grown used to the annoying thing.
Verena updated his appearances and schedule every morning first thing. So, during breakfast she and Orli went through the plans for the day together and organized his itinerary. If there were no appointments for the day, Orli would spend the day working out in the basement, playing with Zoë, or watching TV or movies. Okay, there wasn't else much he would do even if he didn't live at Verena's. But he couldn't go out at night or just crash with friends. And he wasn't free.
Lij finished the last piece of pancake. "You know Orli, for having an agenda, you are really forgetful. First, you could go out more … for example to Sean and Christine's. I bet Zoë and Alexandra would get along famously. And then, next week is Viggo's new photography opening here. By the way, what if we hooked Viggo up with Verena ...I think they might get along. And you might get the distraction you need."
Orlando looked at Elijah with big eyes. "Man, for having such an innocent hobbit face, you are almost macchiavelian! You rock, Lij." He hugged his friend.
"Love you too, man," grinned Elijah.
That very night, Orlando woke up around midnight, like he had been doing for some time now, to watch the soccer games of the World Cup. Because it was being played in Japan and Korea, the whole American continent had to watch the games at ludicrous times like 1:00, 3:00, and 5:00 am. Orlando hadn't much more else to do, so he indulged in watching his favorite sport. He stood up and walked to the small fridge in the apartment, looking for a soda. He had still fifteen minutes until the game began. But there wasn't any soda. He groaned and cursed. 'How could any normal being watch soccer without at least soda and chips, if not beer? Damm you, Bloom, you forgot!'
Orlando searched for a solution. He would have to make a trip to the kitchen downstairs and try his luck.
He was surprised to find the lights in the stairs and in the main level still on. And then he heard the faint sound of music. He descended the stairs and approached the studio where the music came from. There she was, Evil V, working on her PC and listening to Sade.
She looked up and saw him standing at the door.
"Orlando, what are you doing up so late? Are you alright?" she stood up and walked over to where he stood.
"What are you doing V?" he asked.
"I still have some assignments to finish for Geo and National Geographic. And then I am staying awake so I can watch the World Cup," she said. She looked tired.
"Well, I'm also watching the games ... I came down to borrow some soda. I forgot to buy some today," he explained.
Verena smiled brightly. Of course! He was a Brit! He must love soccer. As did she.
"Of course you can have a soda. I am going to fetch a cup of tea myself." She smiled and led the way to the kitchen. While she poured herself tea, he fetched a soda from the fridge and turned to leave.
"Ehmm ... Orlando ... would you like to watch the games with me tonight? I'm a big soccer fan, and I prefer to watch it with company. And nobody I know in LA likes soccer THAT much," Verena said almost shyly. She wasn't stupid. She knew Orlando probably hated her guts, but if that was what it took to keep the kid out of trouble, she would do what she must.
Orlando froze at the door. What? She was asking for his company? He had to admit that watching the games on his own wasn't that fun of course. Hell, everybody knew that watching soccer was an experience to share. Even if he had to share it with the Wicked Witch of the West.
He turned slowly. "Err, sure, why not? Let's watch. Your place or mine?"
Verena didn't know where the blush on her cheeks came from. 'Blast it, I must be more tired than I thought'. Aloud she said, "Let's watch on the big TV upstairs, okay?"
"Sure, after you ." He must be either getting used to her or losing his mind. Maybe both.
Moments later, Orlando was settled in front of a 72" TV screen. They sat on a huge couch that was surprisingly comfortable, and Verena had brought up a couple of pillows and two blankets. She was downstairs making popcorn while Orli waited for the game to begin.
After a while, she bounded up the stairs with a big bowl of popcorn in one hand and a teapot in the other .
"Did they show the line-ups yet?" she asked, only a little out of breath.
"Not yet, but they will anytime now," answered Orli.
During the first half, each one of them occupied a different end of the couch and they watched the game in companionable silence, broken only by comments from both sides regarding the game. In the break, they exchanged opinions and agreed on the absolute imbecility of the referee.
As the second halftime began, Verena poured herself some tea. Later, when England scored a goal, Orlando jumped up the couch, startling her. The cup flew from her hand and hot tea spilled onto her lap and the corner of the couch.
"Damn it!" she cursed, feeling the hot tea seep through her clothes.
"I am so sorry, V," said Orlando, helping her to wipe up the mess.
"Don't worry, I would have jumped too, if I'd seen it ... Who scored it? Was it Beckham?" she said.
"Yes it was," replied Orlando and couldn't help grinning. One thing was certain. This lady loooved soccer.
"Okay Orlando, watch the rest. I'll go change, huh?" said Verena and went to her room. Not five minutes later, she appeared wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
"The couch is still wet," he said.
"Then I'll fetch a chair... " Verena began.
"Don't be silly, V. We can share my end of the couch," Orli said.
'Is he making a pass on me or what?' Verena thought as she watched him pat the sofa beside him. She raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"V, my intentions are pure," he said grinning. 'As if I would ever have those intentions about you, V' he told himself.
She seemed to think the same, because nodded and sat down next to him. He poured her a new cup of tea and handed it to her. Verena smiled brightly and took it, snuggling back into the couch and covering both of them with a blanket.
They watched that game until the end, and then the 3:00 a.m. game, and by the time the 5:00 a.m. game started, both were fast asleep, stretched out on the couch, Verena held tightly in Orlando's arms.
They hadn't noticed.
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