When I find Bianca to tell her I'm leaving with Óscar, she doesn't even look surprised. She just tells me to go have fun, kisses my cheek, and goes back to her dancing.

"I don't want to miss the rest of your party," I try to argue with her, but she won't hear it.

"I'll have other parties."

Carla doesn't let her get away from us, pulling her wrist and leading us across the room where Divya is sitting, nursing a glass of water and staring out over the horizon at the coming storm.

"It looks so calm," she says.

"The calm before the storm," Bianca replies, wrapping her arm around Divya's shoulder. "It's a good name for it, don't you think?"

We all hum our agreement, but Carla says, "I've never been much for calm before anything, personally."

"We know," Divya and I say at the same time.

"I'm not going to get mad about that, because I love you both, but also... Rude."

"I've always liked the calm before the storm," I say, letting Carla pull me into her side. "It always feels like a special little treat from nature for what we're about to go through. Like the world knows we'll need the comfort in the trying times."

Divya and Bianca nod along with me, and we squeeze each other into hugs. I can't believe we're all really going our separate ways. I know it's not true, and I'll be back home in no time at all, but it feels like everyone is moving on.

A tear slips out of my eye and I squeeze Divya tighter.

"So," Carla whispers into my ear. "Is Óscar the calm or the storm?"

"Carla!" I frantically look around but it looks like no one has seen.

"What? It's an honest question."

"He's not anything," I answer.

"He might not be anything. I can see you're determined to keep it that way. But you're about to go on a press tour with him. Whether you finally get what you want romantically or not is up to you. But no matter what, you're stuck with him. And he's got press following him everywhere."

"No, he doesn't. We haven't had to deal with that at all this week," I protest.

"Sure, maybe. But tomorrow begins a major tour of the country specifically for the press. You sure you can handle that?"

"No," I answer honestly. "But you should have seen Marcia's face. She needs the help and I happen to be currently unemployed."

"What happened to that Mercurio job? Did you ever hear back from them?"

"Nothing is decided yet," I answer, unable to look her in the eyes when I do.

"Well, I guess it's only a couple weeks..." she trails off, eyes glancing over the horizon. "But if it's only money, I wish you'd let me hire you."

"It's not just money, Carla. You know that. I'll be just fine."

"Fine," she says, raising her hands in supplication. "I yield. Just remember to be yourself, okay? You can't go wrong being chaotic, fun Lor."

"I think you're probably wrong about that. I've gone wrong many times before." Like all of my recent job interviews. And my not-so-recent job interviews. "But you're right. I'll be fine."

"I know you will," she says again, giving me one last squeeze of a hug. "Be safe."

Marcia appears in the doorway across the hall from me, waving that it's time to go.

"Text us when you land," Divya says, giving me a quick kiss on my cheek. "And don't forget to stand up for yourself."

"Why does everyone seem to think I'm in danger?" I demand, hands on hips. "It's just Óscar!"

"They don't know him like we do," Bianca says with a smile. "Now go! I don't want you in the air when the hurricane hits."

So, with one last group hug, I leave the girls behind and follow my new colleague and hopefully soon to be friend Marcia through the maze of hallways and out into a waiting car. She doesn't even wait until the door is closed behind her to begin inundating me with facts. Óscar sits across from us, eyes trained on his phone, though I catch him looking up at me a couple times with a smile.

I've probably forgotten everything she said by the time we make it to the airport, bypassing security and the terminal all together, driving through a guarded gate and right out onto the tarmac where the plane greets us.

It is not as luxurious as I'd hoped. Small propellers adorn the sides and I already know it's going to be loud and bumpy, but I've come this far. I'm going to be brave and I'm going to get paid. And both of those things are going to require me to get onto that plane.

"You coming?" Óscar holds out his hand from outside the door, the still air cooling my skin.

"Of course," I say with a smile, letting his hand caress mine on the way out of the car.

My luggage is still in the trunk, so I turn to retrieve it when his hand pulls at mine. "Let them handle it."

"Who? Marcia? No, I'll—"

"The chauffeur," he says. "Marcia will be managing everything on the ground and the second she's on the plane she'll be inundating you with information about your new job. Just come enjoy the view and a snack before she takes over your whole life."

"That's the job," I remind him. "Óscar Calderon takes over your whole life."

"I like the sound of that." His chest puffs out, and he pulls me by our interlocked fingers up the stairs and through the door of the plane.

The inside is much better than the outside was, with luxurious carpeting and modern decor, tables and televisions for every plush reclining chair.

"There are a couple benefits to being rich," I admit, brushing my hand along the blanket sitting on the chair nearest the door.

"It's not so bad," he replies. "Sit with me?"

"Where?" I sweep my hand across the cabin. "There is absolutely nowhere in this plane where anyone has to sit beside anyone else."

He picks up the blanket from the chair on our left and sits down. "Sit with me?" he says again. And this time, I understand.

I hesitate. I'm not sure I should blur those lines of casual and employment relationship.

"You needn't worry. Marcia has a strict outline of what is not appropriate and sitting on airplane seats together for a few seconds is not on it."

I let out a low chuckle. "She really does run the show around here, doesn't she?"

"She keeps me insulated from the media and the world at large in every way that really matters."

"Even this one?" I gesture between the two of us. "I seem to recall her being unhappy you saved me from the ocean."

"I was not unhappy he saved you," Marcia's voice comes from behind me. "I was unhappy he broke his contract to dive into shallow waters. It was dangerous."

"And I told you," he presses back. "I'm fine."

"You got lucky."

"I got lucky." His eyes stare into mine with a softness and a hunger, sending fire straight through me.

He got lucky.

And so did I.

~ * ~

Óscar wasn't joking about Marcia being demanding. The second we're in the air, she's back to running me through all of the appearances and guest events Óscar will be participating in. There are at least three events every day in support of more charities than I even knew existed.

But it feels nice to feel wanted. To feel safe. To be challenged by work I'm actually passionate about. I'm definitely going to have to work hard to keep on top of all of the moving parts, but right now I can't focus on any of it.

We are playing a game of chicken with a hurricane.

Marcia continues to talk to me, but I don't absorb much of it. I'm sure I'll come to regret that later, but I can't help looking out the window, searching for the coming storm. Óscar manages to sleep through the whole thing which is another reason I hate him.

Once the plane is safely stopped on the ground, I can finally breathe again. My teeth are still on edge, worried about the storm I still can't see on the horizon. Just because I can't see it, doesn't mean it isn't coming.

Marcia ushers us to a waiting limousine, holding the door open as we slide inside. Óscar sits in the corner, so I have to press up beside him to let Marcia get in the car. His hand brushes my leg and then wraps around my shoulders.

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes," Marcia says, slipping into the car and closing the door.

"Off to meet the man himself," Óscar says, hand absent-mindedly playing with my hair.

Marcia has warned me that at least half of my job will be keeping Óscar together once Porfirio is around, but I can't imagine Óscar falling apart. He's always on top of everything, poking fun at me around every turn.

I have to believe Marcia is exaggerating. She's probably just trying to over prepare me for anything that could go wrong.

But the closer we get to Porfirio's estate, the more Óscar's knee bounces. Finally, if my GPS is correct, we are mere blocks away from turning onto Porfirio's street, and Óscar's fingers grip mine with an intensity I don't think I've ever felt before.

I gently squeeze his hand in my own and offer him a small smile when he looks at me. But Marcia was right. He's nervous. And I have no idea what to do. Maybe I don't know Óscar as well as I thought I did.

"It'll be okay," I say, resting my hand on his restless knee. "We're just going to have dinner and a meeting and then it'll be bedtime. Storm isn't even supposed to hit us this far inland so we should be okay."

"Yeah," Óscar replies numbly, staring at a point outside the window that seems to hold his attention.

Marcia catches my eye and then mouths the word 'see?' and raises her hands in defeat.

"We'll be just fine," I say aloud, but the closer we get to Porfirio's house, the more my knee feels like joining Óscar's.

All of our phones beep at once as the gates open and the driver takes us through into the property.

"Porfirio must have upgraded his security again," Marcia says, pulling out her phone. Her smile slips off her face faster than I can unlock my screen. I'm still getting used to the new phone.

"Oh, no."

"What?" My face drifts between Óscar and Marcia and back again, as they both seem to have had no problem unlocking their phones. "What is it?"

They both stare at each other in stunned silence and I fumble with my own lock screen until the notification pops up.

"Oh. Oh, no."

A beat passes, and the car clears the gate, entering the winding road traversing the vast property.

"We need to decide what we're going to do," Marcia says, suddenly springing back to life. "Because whatever we tell Porfirio is going to be our story for the next two weeks. Are you Óscar's employee or his girlfriend?" She looks directly at me like I even get a choice.

My face drifts up to Óscar's, staring up at his steely stillness, I can see why Marcia's looking to me.

"I didn't ask him," she says, drawing my attention again. "I asked you."

"Don't you think he should get a say?" I challenge her.

"He's given me enough information to go on," she says simply. "I get to decide these things, as my position demands. I know what his parameters are."

"Oh."

We wind through a small patch of trees, blocking out the sun and the sky and the expansive property upon which the great house sits. Suddenly, I'm suffocating.

"Lorena," Marcia says, placing her hand on my knee. "I need your answer."

"I don't want to be the one to decide."

"There's no one else to do it for you," she says simply. "Do you want to be his girlfriend or not?"

The car breaks out into the brighter light again, the house now squarely in view. We are out of time.

"Okay, not then." Marcia says with a shrug. "If you aren't sure."

"No!" Óscar and I say together. My head snaps to look in his eyes.

"I can't stay away from you," he says simply.

"I don't want you to," I reply, drifting into his arms and letting my eyes fall closed at his touch.

"Lovely," Marcia says. "Now, look in love and... good luck answering Porfirio's questions."

I'd completely forgotten Porfirio.

What am I getting myself into? 

~ * ~ Author's Note ~ * ~

Well, then. Lor and Óscar are back! And away from everyone who keeps popping in when they shouldn't... well, except Marcia. Thank you for sticking with me through this wait. It was a much needed break and I'm glad to be back writing Lor and Óscar's story for you all. 

See you all soon with more! 
~Eliza.