Disclaimer: I don't own Orlando Bloom or any living person depicted in the story. They deserve my utmost respect.
-------------------- CHAPTER FOUR --------------------
Verena enjoyed the warmth surrounding her and snuggled closer to the source.
It had been a long time since she had slept so well, but her inner clock told her it must be about sunrise, time to get up and get Zoë ready for school. Before she opened eyes, she tried to enjoy the last seconds nestled comfortably against .... Orlando's chest? Her eyes flew open. Oh, yes, she was leaning into his chest, reveling in his body heat, listening to his heartbeat, inhaling his smell.
'Damn it to hell and back ... what am I doing here?' she thought, freeing herself slowly and carefully from his embrace. After she slid from the couch to the floor, she tucked him into the blanket hoping to ensure he wouldn't wake up.
She stood up on her bare feet and tiptoed away.
"What the hell ?" she asked herself. She replayed the events of the past night and calmed down, after remembering that nothing improper had happened. They'd just been two tired soccer-fans who fell asleep in the same corner of the couch.
On the other hand, Verena admitted to herself that knowing that how she had woken up needn't worry her didn't stop her from feeling embarrassed and oddly conflicted all the same. She was a mature woman, a professional, who would never ever get involved in any way with her work assignment, especially if her assignment was a CHILD for Christ's sake. It shouldn't matter that the kid was charming, gorgeous, had tons of sex appeal and an incredibly desirable body ... Verena shook her head to free it from those thoughts, while she walked to the bathroom. She needed a cold shower and a good lay as soon as possible.
Orlando woke up from a very pleasant dream. He was holding a soft body to his and the woman smelled and felt so good ...
He stretched and stirred, hearing music coming from downstairs. It wasn't Santana, but some other Latin-Jazz-Stuff. He was getting used to the music; it seemed that the women of the house couldn't live without music.
He sat up and found himself on the big couch in front of the TV. He remembered watching soccer with V, and then they most probably had fallen asleep. At least he did; that was obvious. Verena had been very nice ... he had already forgotten when was the last time he had such a good time watching soccer. Certainly not since leaving home, unless he counted a few lazy days in NZ with Billy and Dominic.
So he had fallen asleep and she probably had tucked him in and left him to sleep out the night. And then the dream ... he recalled the smell and the feeling of the dream. 'I must be having delusions, I need a woman so bad my mind is playing tricks on me,' Orli told himself. He stretched again, and walked down to the kitchen. He could already hear Zoë's voice.
"... and then Mama, in my dream, there came a giant, a big big really big giant, and he was not nice and I was scared and I ran and then Legolas came and he took me away and saved me and I was an elf forever. And then when I grew up to be an elf-lady, I married Legolas, because he was sooo nice and he is so brave and we sailed away in a ..." Zoë's sentence was finished by Orlando who had entered the kitchen " ... in a big blue boat. Right munchkin?" he said, as the child leapt from her chair into his arms a he spun her around and hugged her tight.
'I could really get used to this', he thought. Since he'd come to live in her house, Zoë had adopted him and was always near. He had never had a younger sister or any nieces in his immediate family, but he enjoyed the little tornado called Zoë.
Zoë was also holding tightly to his neck as if her life depended on it. She loved Orli with all the might of her five years. He was kind and nice and played with her and loved her drawings and listened to her made up stories. He even read out loud for her, and Zoë loved his velvety voice. What would she give to have a papa like Orli ... what would she give to have Orli for a Papa! But that was a wish that not even Santa Claus could make come true. Zoë sighed, gave Orli a sticky marmalade kiss on the cheek, and let him put her back on her chair.
From the other side of the kitchen, Verena observed the entire interlude while she cut fruit for Zoë's lunch-box. Her daughter was shining with joy and practically worshiped the ground Orlando walked upon. She felt a pang of jealousy, but dismissed it quickly. Maybe it had been a mistake to raise Zoë without a father. But there was nothing she could do about that now.
"Chip, it's time," she said, watching the clock and stuffing Zoë's lunch in her lunchbox.
" Mama, may Orli drive me to school today?" asked the child.
Verena froze in mid action. She took a deep breath and looked over at Orlando, who was watching her intently.
"Can you drive her, Orli? Do you have a license? And, most important, do you want to drive her to school?" she asked him.
Orlando felt funny. If V let him drive, he would gain a little more freedom by implication. But he quickly understood that V was jealous because the munchkin wanted him to drive her.. What to do? 'Careful, Bloom,' he told himself.
"Er, I do, V, all of it. But maybe you prefer to drive Zoë to school yourself, or you can drive and I'll just tag along ... " he answered.
Verena made up her mind. She was being ridiculous.
She went to the wood-board on the wall where the keys hung and retrieved the keys for the jeep. She handed them over to Orlando.
"Nonsense. Go. Zoë knows the way. Drive carefully ... please?" Verena said to him.
Orli understood it was a gesture of enormous trust. He was being given Zoë and the car. He nodded seriously. "It's alright, V. Trust me."
"That's what I'm doing. Be sure of deserving it," Verena said, then turned, gave Zoë a hug and a kiss, and walked downstairs to the basement.
Orli smiled at Zoë. "Wait a minute, munchkin. I'll fetch my wallet and my sunnies, okay?"
Zoë hopped up and down in place. Orli was taking her to school! It was almost as great as if he were her Papa. Just for a moment she could pretend.
"Next street to the ... right? Left? Okay, that way!!!!"
Zoë was giving Orlando directions to her school. It was difficult, because the child wasn't sure which was her right or her left. Zoë was chatting happily from her safety-seat in the back, enjoying every minute of the drive.
Luckily they arrived at the school just in time. Orlando got out of the jeep and helped Zoë out. He took her hand and let her lead all the way to her classroom.
"Thank you, Orli. You are the best!" said Zoë as she stood on her toes to hug and kiss Orlando goodbye.
He held her tight and then sent her going. "Be good, little one!"
As Orlando walked back to the car, he wondered if this was what it would be like when he had children of his own. He would love to have a daughter like Zoë. But to have children, you had to find a life-mate first. Or not. He shook his head about having THOSE thoughts.
He got into the jeep, wondering about Verena raising her child on her own.
His mother had raised him and Samantha since his father died when he was four. He had always admired his mother for that; she was his safe haven, the first and best woman in his life. And right now he was wondering what it must have been for her, to manage everything on her own, alone.
How could he ever compare Verena to his mother?
Verena was a sour-tempered wench. She only had tenderness and love for Zoë. While his mother, on the other hand, was a brave, kindhearted woman. End of comparison.
Orlando started the car and enjoyed the smooth drive of it. He decided not to think any more about it, though he had to admit that last night he had enjoyed watching the game with V. He had felt at ease with her, like being with a good friend. Granted, he had felt her closeness awkward at first, when she first settled over on his side of the couch. Her smell, the feeling of her firm, soft body next to him, had pointedly reminded him of his imposed celibacy.
Suddenly, he realized that it hadn't been a dream last night: it had been V sleeping next to him! He swerved the jeep in surprise, and controlled the car again just in time to avoid driving over a mailbox.
And she had felt incredibly good in his embrace.
He could not be lusting after Verena, could he? Could he actually lust for somebody he didn't like?
Orlando called the image of his publicist to his mind. If she wasn't managing his life and restricting his existence in her bossy, know it-better style, she was absolutely a hot girl. No, an incredibly attractive woman, not a girl. And thinking of her on that level made his blood run faster. He had to stop that line of thinking at once. He had to focus on pursuing his plan to escape for a night. He had to call Sean.
When Orlando arrived at the house, he found Rita washing the breakfast dishes and no sign of Verena.
"Buenos dias, Rita," he said, parading the basic Spanish he knew. Rita understood English but enjoyed hearing Orlando trying to speak her mother language. She had adopted Orlando as fast as Zoë had, pampering and doting on him in every way possible. The elder woman flashed him a big smile.
"Would you like something to eat, Orlando? Any special wishes for lunch?"
"Rita, if it were up to you, I'd be twenty pounds heavier after two weeks in your care!!!" he replied grinning at her. "Where is the mistress?" he asked.
"Señora Verena is in the basement," answered Rita.
Orli had never been to the basement. He stepped down the steep stairs and stopped at the end to look around. The basement was full of sunlight, streaming through big windows that had been changed in the house's structure, just to ensure more light entering. In the remaining dark corner, was a closed room, with a label on its door, written by a child, which read "Mamas Lab".
But the rest of the basement was pretty bare: a punching bag in the corner and a big stereo fixed on the wall. The stereo was wailing loud music while Verena laid into the punching bag to the rhythm of the music.
She hadn't heard him come down because of the loud music, and kept on exercising.
Verena's thoughts were far away while she worked out. She was trying to relax and forget the feeling she got when Zoë had asked for Orli to take her to school. It had been the first time she felt she had been relegated to second place in her daughter's preference. Verena had never felt like this before, as though her position as center of Zoë's universe had been threatened. Just the same she had instantly recognized the feeling that engulfed her the moment she chose to give Orlando the car keys: jealousy.
How was it possible that Orlando had won over her daughter's heart so quickly and easily? Verena tried to figure out what her daughter saw in him. Zoë couldn't be won over by his good looks or his boyish charm, could she? Maybe it was just that Orlando spent so much time with Zoë and shared her games and mischief. Verena also spent as much time as possible with her little girl, but it wasn't the same. 'Orlando is still a kid, right?' she told herself. 'A kid that brought you close to having a highly erotic dream this very morning,' another little voice in her head said. Verena shook her head to stop the silly voices, and continued hitting the bag. Too bad the exercise wasn't helping her much.
Orlando continued watching Verena give hard, deft kicks and punches, with a dexterity that was strange to him. The woman obviously knew what she was doing. And he watched her body complying to the rhythm of the music in the background, the flexing of muscles visible under the smooth tanned skin of her arms and legs. 'I had almost forgotten about those killer-legs', he thought. . 'If I keep it up like this, soon I'll be thinking that she is a woman, forgetting her bitchiness, and getting myself into a ton of trouble.'
Verena finally noticed him standing at the end of the stairs. She finished her workout and turned off the music. She grabbed a towel and dried some of the sweat on her face and neck. The sight of Orlando leaning lazily against the wall watching her in silence reminded her of this morning. Reminded her of being in his arms this morning. She had to chase those images away.
"You're back, Orlando. Did everything go well?" she asked him.
"Yes, everything went fine, V. Zoë arrived safe and on time at school," he answered. "Where did you learn those moves?"
And the moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had stepped out onto shaky ground.
Verena looked at him for a moment, the shrugged and said, "Before I started covering stories in war regions I had to undergo boot camp with the Army, so that they were actually sure I could keep up with the troops. After that, I saw the usefulness of continuing training for self-defense and fitness."
"You were a war correspondent? But you're a woman!" said Orlando. And the moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had trod on shaky ground.
Verena's eyes were angry slits as she walked up to him and stood close, her face inches away from his as she hissed, "So what, pretty boy? Women can actually do almost everything men do and mostly better. Women are very capable of doing more than making themselves pretty, drooling over you and jumping into bed for your enjoyment, believe me!".
Damn, she had to get a grip on herself. She had never been overly compliant, but her temper was getting the worst of her now. She forced herself to breathe deeply and calm herself. "Forgive me, Orlando, that was out of line," she said, rubbing nervously at her neck. Orlando wished he could bite back what he had said. If he wanted to trick Verena into giving him more freedom he had to be very very careful.
"I am sorry, V. I didn't mean it like that. I am sure you are very capable of … many things," he started apologizing, but he stopped when he saw that dangerous look in her green eyes again. Verena became suspicious. What was he up to now? Orlando was apologizing? She had made the issue personal referring to female behavior around him and his attitude toward women, or at least what she thought was his attitude toward women. He wasn't biting back? That was very suspicious. "Forget it, Orlando. Let's see what appointments we have planned for you today. And if we don't have any activities scheduled, we might just as well use the time to get you some clothes before you go out in public again. You are actually the poster-child for hideous taste in clothing right now, and we need to get you some…wardrobe for your next public appearances. Orlando is actually synonymous with hideous taste in clothing right now and we just need to change that," she told him, observing his reaction.
Orlando felt anger rise in him again, as he noticed the way she was going to impose herself in just another aspect of his life. He bit a caustic reply down, while he counted to fifty in his head. He had to remain calm if he wanted to achieve his goal and set a trap for V. But he wasn't the best student of his class at Guildhall for nothing. Or so he thought. "If you think I have to change some of my outfits, I think I can make an effort, V. You just lead the way."
Verena knew now for certain the kid had something up his sleeve. And she would find out what. She had the patience: as a photographer of wildlife, she was a natural stalker. And she would wait until Orlando either made a false move or hinted to what his plans were. Now she was positive something was going on.
***************************
"You think this is a good idea? Wasn't I supposed to keep a low profile?" Orlando asked looking around as they drove into the parking lot of an expensive looking line of boutiques on Rodeo Drive. He wasn't wearing a cap or anything to conceal his face or head. Well, he had some sunglasses, but they weren't a vey good disguise. He was nervous, wondering what V might do if they were assaulted by teenage fans.
"Orlando, can you give me the benefit of doubt, considering my experience? I was never a teenage heartthrob, kid, but there are two things you forget: being in disguise is so much more outstanding than being normal; shops are fairly empty right now; and last, but not least, we are in Beverly Hills, where you are one of the lesser known gods. So, just take it easy and relax," she explained. But when she looked at him, she was sure there weren't many men that could be more appealing than Orlando at the moment .
Even wearing faded jeans and a plain black T-Shirt, he projected this sexy aura around him, which was enhanced by his boyish appearance. His hair was long, curling all around his handsome face, and his big, expressive eyes were like a trap, pulling innocents in with depth and warmth. Verena had to smile, thinking about the whims of nature, which could produce such a perfect people magnet in the form of a man.
She did something that she had never done before. Verena reached out and ruffled his hair. "Come on, kid, we don't have all day," she said and turned away, expecting him to follow.
And Orlando followed. He had seen the appreciation in her eyes . And it had surprised him, because he had thought until then that she either loathed him or was completely indifferent to him. There was something intimate and caring in the gesture of ruffling his hair and he felt warmth spread all over him. Maybe she wasn't immune to him after all. Maybe she was human. He smiled, wondering what it would be like if they were actually friends, him and V. The more he learned of her, the more she intrigued him.
How could it be that after living in her house for two weeks he still didn't know much about Verena? He had decided to spoil Zoë to get back at Verena, but the he had grown genuinely fond of the little girl and he just hated the idea of changing her and her charming way of taking people and life in stride.
Meanwhile, he had wallowed in self-pity about his imprisonment, instead of finding a way to either win Verena over with his charm or get out of the house. Orlando had to work harder and change his situation, one way or another.
Verena walked with her usual no-nonsense wide stride down the nearest sidewalk with Orlando in tow. He looked around and saw that the street was rather empty.
"Verena, where are we going?" he asked as he caught up with her.
"To get you a some nice clothes for your premieres. You have to take advantage of your good looks. We have to sell your image," Verena explained, looking at the discrete signs for Armani, Boss, and Gucci.
Armani? Nope, it wasn't Orli. Boss? Kind of square. Gucci? Maybe. But then the images of Givenchy's last collection came to her mind. Elegant with a twist. Like the image she thought he should project.
"Okay, I think I've got what we need. Let's go, hun," she said absentmindedly, while Orlando grinned: in the last ten minutes, she had said he was good looking and called him "hun." Maybe there was hope after all.
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