"Why did I do this?"

The question was posed to the inside of her empty rental car, and the only response was Caroline's resulting sigh.  She stared at her shaking hands on top of the steering wheel and cursed her bad judgment.

All week, she'd been convinced this was a good idea.  She'd bought the plane ticket online, actually scoring a really good deal, and secured the days off with her boss (who was pleased that she was finally using up some of her stockpiled vacation days), the entire time ignoring Seth as he shook his head at her.

"I thought you wanted me to contact him," she'd pointed out.  Seth just shook his head.

"Yeah, contact.  Like, on the phone.  This," he motioned at her printed out itinerary and ready-packed carry-on bag, "is just a little extreme.  I mean, it's another state.  What if you get all the way out there and he wants nothing to do with you?"

Caroline had scowled at that.  "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

In spite of her brother's wariness towards her plan, Caroline knew this was something she needed to do.  She couldn't just call JC, because what if he didn't answer (and he probably wouldn't)?  And she couldn't just leave a message, because then it was up to him whether or not to call her back.  This was something that she needed to just...go for, after sitting around like a bum for a year and trying to pretend everything that had happened was just a figment of her imagination.  Her parents and Brandon were right - she wasn't a quitter.  When she was given a task, she followed through, and this was no exception.

Her good attitude remained on the way to the airport (Seth had dropped her off and slipped her a palm-sized fold of three twenties "just in case"), all through the four-hour flight (she'd been too hyped up to sleep or to notice her lack of first-class accommodations), and her arrival at Orlando International Airport.  The humidity hadn't even been a deterrent, although it hit her like a sticky wall as soon as she stepped off the plane.  She just yanked her short hair back into a ponytail and moved on. 

The car rental desk had been somewhat of a downer, as the incompetent girl behind the desk didn't seem to know what to do if Caroline didn't have a reservation.  Eventually, they'd found her a car, an old Dodge Neon that seemed to be barely hanging on.  Caroline pushed forward, tossing her bag in the backseat and retrieving the Google Maps directions she'd printed out before leaving home.

As it turned out, Winter Park was only fifteen minutes from the bustling metropolis of Orlando, and it was less of a town than a sparse, upscale community.  At least, Caroline assumed it was upscale - she couldn't actually see any of the homes from the street she was on because the driveways twisted off of out of sight beyond their large, imposing gates.  She continued off of Alberta Drive and onto Lakewood, driving slowly as she searched for numbers on the gates and realizing that this street was quite similar to JC's old Hollywood Hills neighborhood, just more flat and less...hilly.

It took her a ridiculously long time to figure out which house number was which.  In the end, she'd had to backtrack from a gate a block away (which had helpfully posted its number, 383) and use that to find 390, which was located at the furthest end of the dead-end street.  There was a gate, of course, and a keypad with an intercom posted out front.  Caroline parked her car out front, and then the real panic set in.

"Shit."

She looked down again at the printed copy of the email that Kevin had sent her, complete with its little winking emoticon, which now seemed to say so much.  Like "good luck actually getting in contact with him, he's a fucking pop superstar celebrity, sure he's going to run down his driveway to open the gate for someone he probably doesn't even remember or want to". 

Caroline crumbled up the email and tossed it in the backseat, taking a long drink from her bottle of water in the console and a few deep breaths.  She was capable,  she could do this.  And if it ended badly?  Well, she drove back to Orlando, got a hotel and licked her wounds.  That was doable.

Cheered slightly at the thought of a backup plan, yet desperately hoping she didn't need it, Caroline got out of the car.  The air in Winter Park was the same as the air in Orlando, hot and syrupy.  It was late afternoon, so the sun was starting to lower in the sky, but it felt hotter to Caroline somehow as it beat down on her back while she walked up towards the imposing blacktop driveway.  The gate seemed even taller and more intimidating up close, and she glanced around for cameras.  God, what if he was watching her right now?

She didn't see anything that looked like a security camera, so she did her best to shrug off the thought and peered through the iron gate.  All she could see on the other side was the continuation of the driveway, lined on either side with green grass that looked like it hadn't been mowed in a while.  A few hundred feet from the gate, the ground sloped slightly and hid the rest of the grounds, and any sight of the house.

Before she could second guess herself, Caroline hit the "call" button on the intercom.  She waited, not realizing that she was holding her breath until she needed to gasp for air.  She hit the button again, no response.  A brief crazy thought passed through her head and she considered trying the same gate code that JC had used in LA before cursing her stupidity - and what if it was right?  She couldn't just drive up to his house.  And clearly, he wasn't home.  Or was pretending not to be.

Caroline walked back to the car, trying to hold her head high even though no one was around to see her defeat.  She thought about the phone number that Kevin had forwarded her, the one she hadn't even tried calling, and wished that life was as easy as it had been in the beginning.

JC dug something out of his pocket.  "If you can come by the house tomorrow morning, we'll run through a few things.  Nothing too difficult."  He handed her a card.  "Address is on there, and my cell phone number.  There's a gate out front, but just text me when you get there and I'll let you in.  10:00 sound good?"

Caroline blinked, glancing down at the card.  Not only did the guy talk incredibly fast, he had also just told her to "text" him.  She wasn't great at judging appearances, but he looked to be her age or older...not sixteen.  Maybe he was gay. 

She had to smile at the memory, but she cursed out loud when a few tears fell.  She was such a jerk.

Caroline leaned against the hood of the car, feeling altogether depressed.  Her plan was wrecked, JC wasn't home or wasn't answering, and there was no way to know if he ever would.  Sure, she could drive back to Orlando, get a room for the night, and come back the following day, but part of her knew that if she left now, it was over.  She wasn't coming back.

Why hadn't she just listened to Seth?  She considered calling him, he had never been as "I told you so" as Cameron had, at least not overtly.  She abandoned the thought as quickly as it came - she didn't want his pity.

Kicking at some stray gravel on the street, Caroline wondered if it was too late to get a flight back to LA.  She was cringing at the thought of getting on a place for another four hours when the sound of a car approaching snapped her out of her reverie. 

She saw the slate gray sports car turn onto the street from further down, and somehow she knew that it wasn't headed to any other house.  Her stomach flip-flopped but she didn't move a muscle.  It was hard to tell from here, but it clearly wasn't JC's Mercedes, and it didn't look like any other car he'd owned in LA.  Maybe he had a separate set of cars in Florida - how would one shuttle cars from state to state, anyway?

The car's engine practically hummed as it continued down the street towards her, but Caroline could barely hear it over the beating of her own heart and the rushing of blood in her ears.  Finally, it passed up every other driveway and was heading right towards her.  She had a brief moment of panic - what if he drove right past her without a second glance? - but didn't have time to pursue it, because the car came to a stop right in front of her. 

For a few seconds, the engine continued to run, and with the glare of the sun on the windshield, Caroline couldn't quite see inside.  Finally, the car shut off and the driver's side door opened, and Caroline somehow managed to stand, praying desperately that she wouldn't pass out.

JC got out, his expression unreadable, one hand on the door and the other on top of the car as he stared at her.  Caroline stared back, and the moment seemed to stretch on forever.

Finally, he spoke.  "Caroline?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile, hoping it looked less like a grimace than it felt. 

"Yeah."

Her voice didn't come out as loud as she'd wanted it to, and he probably couldn't even hear it, but she didn't get the chance to repeat herself.  JC walked around the car, heading straight towards her.  As he got closer, Caroline saw that he was smiling - just the tiniest hint of a smile, but it was there nonetheless.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked as he came up on her, but Caroline didn't have time to respond before he pulled her into his arms.  Her resulting relief was full-body tangible; she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his shoulders and return the embrace.  Comfortingly, he smelled the same as he always had, although he felt different beneath her hands - more muscular, maybe.

"Oh, you know.  I was just in the neighborhood," Caroline replied, her voice muffled against his shirt.  JC laughed, his chest vibrating against hers.

When he finally pulled back, his face inches away from her own, his smile had spread into a more genuine one.  He pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear and Caroline tensed, but then, he stepped back.

"You wanna come in?" he asked suddenly, gesturing to the gate.  Caroline nodded slowly, glancing over at the rental car.  JC turned to head back to his own vehicle. 

"Just follow me up," he called over his shoulder.  Caroline got back into the car, her hands shaking so badly that she needed two tries to fit the key in the ignition.  She followed JC through the gate and up the driveway.  As it turned out, on the other side of the slope, the driveway led down just a little ways further to a large one-story house with a red-tile roof.  A gorgeous blue-green lake set the backdrop, and Caroline could see equally impressive houses on the opposite shore. 

There was a garage, but JC parked in front of it, and Caroline followed suit.  The house didn't look as fancy from the outside as his Hollywood home, and there was no one around trimming the bushes or mowing the grass, either. 

JC jogged over to her car door and opened it fully for her as she stepped out.  Caroline glanced down at her travel-weary dress (she'd shamelessly chosen the same red patterned sheath that JC had claimed looked good on her so long ago) and wondered just how terrible she probably looked.  She wondered why she hadn't thought to stop and freshen up somewhere.  

But JC didn't seem to notice.  "Well, welcome to Florida," he said, ushering her towards his front door.  "Is this your first time here?"

"Um, yeah."  Caroline glanced at him as he opened the glass-fronted door and held it for her.  "Kevin gave me your address.  You're not mad, are you?"

JC smiled.  "I'm not mad."

"Oh.  That's good."  Caroline stepped inside, the rush of cool air a contrast from the humidity outside.  Goosebumps popped up on her arms and she smoothed her hands over her skin self-consciously. 

The Spanish-tile floor of the entryway had no similarities to the cold modernity of JC's LA house.  From the entrance, Caroline could see all the way across to the French doors that led out onto the back patio, overlooking the lake. 

"Can I get you anything to drink?" JC asked, moving past her through the entryway and off to the side into what must have been the kitchen.  Caroline followed slowly, taking in her surroundings.  The open-air kitchen was a bit smaller than his old house, but it still had a counter island with barstools on the far side.  A rustic-looking table surrounded by matching chairs sat in a breakfast nook beyond, overlooking the view out back.  To the left of the kitchen, a sunken living room held a huge overstuffed sofa and loveseat facing a fireplace with a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall over it.

"Caroline?"  JC's voice echoed in her head and she turned to face him, standing in front of an open fridge.  "Do you want anything?  I've got water, orange juice, and beer."  He shrugged, looking sheepish at his lack of variety.

"Water's fine," Caroline replied.  A thud nearby startled her, and she turned to see a golden retriever pawing at the glass helplessly.  "You got a dog."

JC glanced towards the doors.  "Oh, yeah.  That's Charlie.  He's kind of a handful, but I haven't been traveling as much here, so we do okay."  He set a glass of ice water on the counter island near where she stood as he moved around her towards the door.  "Mind if I let him in?"

His arm brushed her side as he set the glass down, and Caroline swallowed.  "No, go ahead."

As soon as JC pulled the door open, the retriever bounded across the room towards Caroline, and promptly threw himself down at her feet, belly up. 

"You can ignore him," JC said.  "I know you don't like dogs."

Caroline crouched down to oblige Charlie with a tummy rub.  "It's fine."

After a few minutes, Charlie rolled over, and Caroline stood up straight again.  JC had taken a seat on one of the barstools, beer in hand, watching her.  Caroline took a sip of her water, feeling more than a little self-conscious as a few drops of condensation from the glass dripped down onto her collarbone.  Ignoring it, she sat down a stool away from JC.

"So."  JC fingered the label on his beer bottle idly.  "How are you?"

His question was polite and cursory but it made Caroline squirm in her seat.  "Oh, good.  I'm good.  And you?"

As JC responded, she wondered if this was how it would go all night.  Would they just continue in the same manner they always had, never once addressing the true issue at hand, choosing to overlook all the undertones?  She didn't know if she could take it.

"...so I just decided, what the hell, and I sold the house," JC was saying with a shrug.  "I think I lost money in the long run, especially because of all the sound equipment that-"

"JC," Caroline interrupted.  He stopped talking, giving her his full attention, and Caroline felt her palms begin to sweat.  "Don't you...aren't you going to ask why I'm here?  At your house?  In Florida?"

To her surprise, JC gave a nervous laugh, glancing back down at his beer.  "I thought you said you were just in the neighborhood."

Caroline sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead.  "Well, I'm not.  I came here for a reason, and...I know it took me a year, but...you need to know that -""

"Wait."  JC held up his hand to stop her, and Caroline narrowed her eyes.  "Before you go on, I think...I think there's some stuff you should know."

Caroline watched, motionless, as he got up out of his seat and walked over to a drawer in the kitchen.  He rifled through it for a few seconds, and Caroline tapped her fingers anxiously against the countertop.  Finally, he found what he was looking for and made his way back over to her.  JC set a stack of something down on the counter in front of her, and Caroline squinted, realizing they were plane ticket stubs.

"What is this?"  Caroline picked up the stack and sorted through them - they were all from Orlando to Los Angeles, and seemed to take place all within the last year. 

"Since I moved out here full time, I've gone back to LA five times," JC explained, and Caroline noted that he wasn't quite meeting her eyes.  "Five times, and each time I was there, I wanted to contact you so badly."

He took the stack from her, flipping through to the first one.  "In January, I made it to the curb outside your apartment building.  I must have sat out there in the car for forty minutes, trying to tell myself that I could do it, that I could go up."  He sighed and set the ticket aside.  "But I didn't."

"In March," he continued, holding up the next stub, "I actually made it all the way to your floor.  I stood in the staircase like a stalker for a little bit and finally got out of there when I started to think that maybe one of your neighbors called the cops."  He set that ticket down and picked up a new one.  "April, I actually made it all the way to your door and knocked on it, but no one answered.  On the way out, I stopped at the building supervisor's apartment, and he told me you'd moved out in December."

Caroline thought about how close he'd been, how she might have only waited a month to move and she could have skipped this whole last miserable year, this ridiculous trip to Florida.  She clutched the hem of her dress in her hand. 

"He wouldn't give me your new address, but I may have, um, gone through the outgoing mailbox and saw a letter being forwarded to you," JC admitted, his face reddening a bit.  "So in June, I drove past your new house, but it happened to be right around the time your brother was getting there.  I kept driving so that he wouldn't see me.  I don't really do well with getting beat up."

Cameron would be more the type to throw punches rather than Seth, but Caroline didn't correct him.

"Last month," he said, holding up the last ticket stub, "I had a meeting with Kevin and he told me you were working for HarperCollins.  I found the building and made it all the way up to reception on your floor before I wussed out."

Caroline stared at the ticket stub, her jaw clenched.  Why did no one tell her these things?  He'd been mere feet away.

"So...what you need to know," JC said, pushing all of the stubs aside and staring down at the empty countertop, "is that I am a total chicken shit.  I had five opportunities, and I blew them all completely."  He finally met her gaze with a shrug.  "And if you want to leave now, I totally understand."

Caroline stared at him for a few moments, speechless.  Finally, she grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly.  "I don't want to leave, you stupid jerk.  I came all the way out here, I flew to freaking Florida because...because I love you.  Why would I leave now?"

JC blinked, reaching up to place his hands on her elbows.  "Oh."

"'Oh'?" Caroline echoed.  "That's all you have to say, ‘oh'?"

He half-smiled, but shook his head, still looking dumbfounded.  "Caroline, I...I was such a dick to you.  God, I fired you.  I treated you like shit because I didn't...I couldn't..." He paused to sigh.  "I thought that when you left...I'd never see you again."

"That's what I thought, too," Caroline admitted.  "But I'm not a fucking quitter."

JC laughed, pulling her off the stool and into his arms.  "Are you sure?  Because I'm a serious headcase.  I can't...I don't know if I can give you everything that you deserve.  And you were right when you said I was afraid, I am afraid.  I'm scared to death of..."  He trailed off, shaking his head.  "I'm scared to mess things up.  And I'm a huge asshole."

"JC, I know you're an asshole," Caroline reminded.  "I worked for you, remember?  But the thing is, I always liked you in spite of that because I know who you are."

She placed her hand over his heart and sighed.  "Look, I know this is like a bunch of cheesy movie shit, but...I love you.  I didn't mean to, but I do.  Okay?  So you can either...live with it, or tell me to get out right now, because -"

JC silenced her with a kiss, his mouth covering hers and muffling her next words.  Caroline melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.  Jeez, she could practically hear the crappy orchestra music hit its magnificent crescendo in the ridiculous love story they were living out right now, but she didn't even care.  How could she?

When JC pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers.  "Sorry I fucked up."

Caroline smoothed her hands over the front of his shirt.  "It's okay."

"And sorry I fired you.  You were the best assistant I've ever had."

"You're just saying that because..." She trailed off and JC smiled at her.

"Because I love you?"  He leaned in to kiss her once more.  "Yes.  But it's still true.  The girl after you didn't even last two weeks."

Caroline winced.  "You didn't sleep with her, did you?"

"No," he assured her.  "And I haven't had another assistant since.  I've actually been doing a lot of stuff on my own."

"That's good, because I can't work for you now," Caroline pointed out.  "It would be total a conflict of interest."

JC smiled.  "Glad you finally see it my way."

Caroline's phone rang suddenly, disrupting the moment, and she smiled apologetically at JC before pulling it out of the pocket of her dress.  "Sorry...it might be work related."

JC raised his eyebrows and waited as she answered.  "Caroline Reed."

"Well?  What happened?" Seth demanded.  "Are you there?"

"Um, yeah, I'm here," Caroline replied.

"So?  Good news or bad?"

Caroline smiled as JC leaned in to kiss her neck.  "You'll just have to wait and find out."

A chorus of groans sounded in the background and Cameron's voice replaced Seth's.  "Oh, come on!  That's not fair!"

"What the hell?  Am I on speakerphone?"

"Yes," Cameron called back.  "Everyone's here.  We want the whole story."

"Sorry to disappoint you girls," Caroline said with a roll of her eyes.  "I'll have to call back later."

More groans sounded, but Caroline ended the call before her brothers could whine any further.

"Your family's gonna make fun of me so much," JC sighed.  Caroline set her phone down and shrugged.

"Yeah.  But I have lots of dirt on my brothers that I can share with you."  JC raised his eyebrows and motioned for her elaborate.  "Like...oh, Cameron took a ballet class when he was in junior high."

"Ooh.  That's good."

"I know."