"Where are you going?" Ashe asked, grabbing hold of Riley's hand as she teetered on one foot, still trying to dislodge the gum from the bottom of her shoe.

"Right now, nowhere until I get this piece of gum from my shoe," Riley stammered. "I mean, I was going to a gala, but—"

"The one at the Natural History Museum?" Ashe asked, surprised.

"Well, I was," Riley said. "Don't I look presentable enough to be a guest?"

"You look stunning."

"Thank you," she said, blushing. "Are you going?"

Ashe chuckled. "Not looking like this, no, although I know people who are going to be there."

Riley didn't ask for names, for she didn't care who else was going. What if it was Gareth? As she held onto Ashe's hand, she decided that it was time to give up on the gum and find out what he was doing there. He looked gorgeous wearing a tight white shirt, equally tight black jeans, and boots that meant business. A dark coat and a long scarf completed the look.

"What are you doing here? Did you get lost?"

"I'm here to see you, and yes, I did get lost. I took the cab but was one block off with the address," Ashe said. "I tried to call you to let you know I was on my way, but you don't seem to like answering your phone."

"I didn't hear it ring," Riley said, pulling her phone from her evening bag and realizing it was in Quiet mode.

"You're going to be late if you don't leave now," he said.

"I'm not going," Riley said, frowning. "I was only going because Paige and Clint bought me a ticket, and they wanted to introduce me to Jesse."

"Who's Jesse?"

"He's Clint's assistant," Riley replied. "They wanted me to meet someone new, someone normal with a regular job, someone who won't be flying off at a moment's notice to film a movie in Africa or promote it in Asia."

"Is that what you want—someone normal?"

"I just want someone who'll like me for me, Ashe. But whether you're normal or abnormal, I'll never know, will I, unless I give this getting-to-know-you bit a try?" she said. "For all I know, you could be the most normal guy I know. You could be obsessed about Minecraft, salsa dancing or—"

"As a matter of fact, I do like salsa dancing," Ashe said, grinning. "Do you?"

Riley hesitated. How the hell did she come up with salsa dancing? "I don't know. I've never tried it."

"If you're not going to the gala, do you have other plans for the evening?" he asked, pulling her to one side. Though she barely noticed the pedestrians, the sidewalk had filled up with people, and they were blocking the way.

Riley shook her head. "Other than growing a spine, nothing."

Ashe narrowed his eyes. "You already have a spine, Riley."

"Not when it comes to Paige. I let her run my life, so not attending the gala is an act of defiance on my part," she said, knowing she was rambling a bit. Ashe was making her nervous, and she knew she was blushing. "Heck, maybe it's seeing you from the car and wondering if you were coming to see me, but whether I'm being flaky or not, this is my way of standing up to her. Or not. Maybe it's just me wanting to see you again so I can, at least, apologize to you for what happened between me and—"

"Shh," Ashe said, placing a finger against her lips. "Too many 'maybes' and you'll lose sight of the certainties. I got your message, and that was enough, Riley. I believe you, and I trust you."

"Then how come you never called or texted me back?"

"Because I'm here now," he said. "I wanted to see you in person, to tell you that it's okay, and I didn't mean to say all that over the phone. I had asked my assistant, Ben, to visit you at the Library, but you were off work when he stopped by."

"I heard you and Gareth got into some fight—"

He smiled. "Don't believe everything you read or hear, Riley. Boys will be boys and sometimes, we settle things the old-fashioned way."

"A fight?"

"No, it was a talk—although tabloids would rather word it a different way to sell more ad copy," Ashe said, smiling.

"Alright. Talk about what?"

"About his meeting with you, and the photographer who happened to be at the right place and the right time. It's classic PR," Ashe said, chuckling before his expression turned serious. "But if you're worried that I'm angry with you, I'm not. Why should I? I hope you're not blaming yourself for what happened. Some things are just beyond your control and...well, Gareth is Gareth."

"His fans are calling me a skank," Riley said. "So are yours."

He shrugged. "Then let them. They'll call you and me whatever they want to anyway. That's just the way fame works. It's something you can't control, and it'll only drive you crazy if you think you can."

The front door of the building opened and Frank stuck his head outside.

"Are you both trying to catch a cold or what? Come inside already!"

* * *

While Ashe was busy befriending Miss Bailey, it didn't take long for Riley to slip out of her gown and into a pink dress that accentuated her eyes and her curves. With her hair secured with an elastic band, curls cascading over her shoulders, she was ready for whatever Ashe wanted to do. If all he wanted was to stay home, she'd have done it, but that would have made her seem too easy. Besides, she was starving, and there was nothing to eat in her apartment but baby carrots and celery sticks.

They decided to go to Café Cortadito, a Cuban restaurant. Riley had never been there before, so this time, it was Ashe's turn to help her with the food choices. Since moving to New York two months earlier, it was one of his favorite haunts. The relocation had been done quietly, he said, just before the media blitz for Sentience, and he relished the anonymity that New York afforded him.

"Why not L.A.? Isn't that where movies are mostly made?" Riley asked as Ashe placed a piece of Camarones Havana Vieja on her plate, one of the cafe's signature dishes that comprised sautéed shrimp in a creole sauce over plantain, topped with Caribbean cheese.

"It's where the deals are made, but not necessarily where the movies are filmed. That would be everywhere. Next year, if plans go ahead with this one project I'm involved in, it's a 90-day shoot in the Australian outback," Ashe said. "Still, as much as I enjoy L.A., that city makes me too lazy. It's too laid-back for someone like me. I love the varying pace New York gives me. It reminds me so much of London."

"Do you miss it?" she asked. "London, I mean."

He shrugged. "I do, but I've grown to love New York. Two of my best friends live here and even better, someone just made New York more attractive than it already is."

He reached for Riley's hand across the table, his long fingers gently touching the back of her hand. Usually, Riley would have pulled her hand away, but she let it stay where it was. She had missed his touch, even just a brush of skin against skin. What mattered was that it was his skin brushing against hers.

"Thank you for having dinner with me, Riley. Now eat up, before your belly growls anymore and I end up having a lengthy conversation with it," he joked as the waiter brought more food to the table. Churrasco for him and Arroz con Pollo for her, both dishes with a side of black beans served in a white bowl.

Aside from casual talk about the weather in Los Angeles (warm), what Ashe had to do there (meetings, a few auditions, signing of contracts) and how long he was going to be in New York before he had to fly out again (a week), dinner was uneventful. It was a beautiful date with good company, good food, and enlightening conversation.

Being in such a relaxed place had imbued their conversation—and the whole experience of having dinner—with something that Riley could only describe as 'being in the middle'. It was tranquil. Maybe that's what Tessa had meant about the balance thing, she thought, about Anahata, her heart chakra. The girl from the West Coast had just taught the East coast girl something she didn't know.

"What are you thinking?" Ashe asked as they left the restaurant and walked along side by side, holding hands. His hand felt warm as it enclosed hers, and Riley was reminded of being wrapped in a nice warm blanket, safe and secure.

"Anahata," she said. "Are you familiar with the word?"

"I am," he smiled. "What makes you think of it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know much about it, other than what Tessa told me yesterday, something about a chakra and following your heart."

"And are you following your heart?"

"I am—kind of," she said, swallowing nervously. "Are you?"

"I've always followed my heart, no matter how old-fashioned it seems sometimes, or how wild, depending on the situation I'm in," he said. "But what do you mean by 'kind of'? Are you having doubts about following it?"

"Not about this," she said, feeling him squeeze her hand. "But it's made me think of the things I want to do that I'm not doing."

"And what are those?"

"Travel, for one thing. I always used to complain that I didn't have the money to do it, and for some time I didn't. I saved some money, spent it buying—" she paused, realizing she didn't want the conversation to go to her history of drug use. "And then I bought the apartment, fixed it up and was back at square one again, with nothing in the bank. But when I became part owner of the Library, I started earning more. That, and pulling in long hours because there's nothing else to do but work in my case. So now I have some spare money again."

They were walking toward Greenwich Village, enjoying the change in the atmosphere and the casual and eclectic feel in the air. Riley hugged her coat around her as a cool breeze ruffled her hair, and Ashe pulled her closer, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Don't laugh," she said.

"I won't," he assured her.

"I want to see London, but I've always wanted to see other parts of England as well, like where Jane Eyre was born, where Charlotte Brontë gave birth to her."

"Yorkshire."

"Yes, Yorkshire," Riley said sheepishly for she knew it was where he was from though she did love Jane Eyre for much longer than she knew Ashe. "But I also want to see Scotland and Wales and go over to Ireland, too. Then there's the rest of the world."

"Like?"

"Some parts of Asia. I've always been a fan of Murakami. Have you heard of him?"

"I have," Ashe grinned. "You are a girl after my own heart, Riley. I love his work too."

Riley's phone beeped to let her know she'd received a message. She didn't have to look at the display to know who had just texted her.

Paige.

Riley sighed. She was about to text back a reply but stopped. Then she took a deep breath and slipped her phone back into her purse.

"Is everything all right?"

She nodded. "It's just Paige being Paige," she said. "But I can talk to her tomorrow. Tonight it's just us having fun."

They'd stopped walking and judging from the music drifting toward them, they were standing across the street from a salsa club.

"What about some dancing?" Ashe asked. "You did mention liking salsa as one of the signs of an average person. And tonight I'm a man out to prove something."

"You mean you're going to prove to me that you like salsa?" Riley asked, looking at him incredulously. "Can you dance the salsa?"

"I think I can manage. Can you?"

"In my dreams," she said, laughing.

"The optimist and the dream dancer—the perfect pair," Ashe said, grabbing her hand and pulling her across the street. "Then let's go before we both change our minds!"

Riley had never danced the salsa before, at least not in public. But she owned a few world music CDs that she often played at night, dancing to the annoyance of Miss Bailey, who usually retreated under the bed.

"I bet I can dance better than you," Ashe said, winking at her.

"No way," Riley replied. "I was in the dance club in high school." He didn't need to know that she sucked at it, but she wasn't about to admit defeat so soon.

"Well, let me warn you that friends have said I have Latin hips for an English boy," he told her.

"Now? Is that a challenge?"

"You bet your cuteness it is," Ashe laughed as a couple walked past them to walk into the door, the music filtering outside onto the sidewalk where they were still standing.

Riley giggled. "Did you just say, cuteness?"

"Instead of a more appropriate word, I did," he said. "Because I do think you're cute, Riley."

"Oh, please stop being so proper and just say ass. Who knows, it might even get you to second base tonight," Riley teased as Ashe pulled open the door and gestured to her to walk ahead of him.

"Ass it is, then," Ashe whispered into her ear as she walked past him, giving her a playful smack on her rear just before nudging her through the door.