"Stop it, Fletcher, people are staring at us now!" Holly exclaimed, barely able to stop laughing.

After their conversation about Roger, Fletcher had felt the need to cheer Holly up and had been regaling her with stories about his adventures as a young and eager reporter during the rest of their dinner.

He caught his breath before replying: "Fine I'll stop, but he really threw his glass of water in my face and left me in the middle of the interview!"

"You deserved it!"

"Well, maybe so, a little."

The waiter came to take the rest of their desserts. Fletcher got up and extended his hand to Holly. "Fancy a dance?"

"I can't think of any reason to refuse," she said, following him on the dance floor.

A pianist was playing his own version of "The way you look tonight". Fletcher put an arm around her waist and brought her close to him. A little closer than colleagues should be, Holly reflected. Their eyes met and Holly quickly looked away, blushing deeply and cursing her self for it. She heard Fletcher sigh, slightly relaxing his hold.

Her mind wandered to the night she had run into him at the Journal, half-crazy with grief over Roger. He had wanted to kiss her that night, she was sure of it. And she had wanted him to.

What would she do now if he really tried?

Lost in these thoughts, her eyes absently followed a woman with long and wavy black hair who was crossing the room while men in suits followed her with discreet but admiring gazes. God, I wish had hair like that, Holly mumbled under her breath.

The woman turned as is she had heard her, and their eyes briefly met.

"What are you whispering about?" whispered Fletcher.

"Nothing important." The song ended and they separated, both feeling awkward. They started at the same time:

"It's getting late…"

"We should head back…"

They both stopped and smiled, and headed for the elevator. They passed a private meeting room on their way and Fletcher stopped to peak inside. It was empty. "This could be useful if we ever need to hold a meeting in Chicago" he said, walking her back to her room.

Back at his apartment, Roger took off his jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. He poured himself a scotch and stood by the living room window which overlooked downtown Chicago. The rent was ridiculously high but the location perfect. Things were going well, better than he had expected when he had arrived two months ago, he thought. He had come straight from New York and had been lucky enough to find this apartment on the first day. He had rented it on the spot.

Remembering that he was not alone, he turned around to offer his guest a drink. He then raised his glass and toasted: "To a great meeting with our first clients. I couldn't have pulled this one without you, Megan."

Megan lifted her glass as well, looking pleased. "It's me who ought to thank you, Roger, for hiring me."

She looked around her and said with a mischievous look: "I was wondering what your lair looked like. This is much bigger than my place. I thought all the apartments in this building were the same. Do you mind if I take a look?"

Roger resumed his station by the window. "Go ahead, I'll be right here." He watched her disappear down the hall, tossing her black mane as she went. He bet she knew he was watching her and the thought made him chuckle.

He had to hand it to her, she knew how to use her beauty to her advantage. Her looks were so striking that it was hard to look away and she knew it. They had met in the lobby the day he had moved in and she had introduced herself as his neighbor. They stroke up a conversation and Roger quickly realized that she was as smart as she was beautiful. She had studied in one of the best business school in the city and her resume was truly impressive for her age. Most importantly, he could see his ambition mirrored in her eyes. He took her to dinner the next day and by the end of the evening, he had hired her as his first consultant. He could feel from that moment that his luck was changing.

When he had fled Springfield, he had first ended up in New York and stayed there for about a month. For the first two weeks, he had fought the impulse to go back and kill Alexandra or kidnap Holly (or both) the only way he knew how: by getting dead drunk every night. By the third week, he had been looking at his hotel room's ceiling long enough for a plan to start forming in his head.

The plan was this: he was going to start his own business. Something that was truly his own. He wondered why he had not thought of it before. He concluded that he had been too obsessed with Spaulding Enterprises to think of anything else. For a while, he juggled with different business venture ideas, only to rule them out. He even thought of going back to the CIA. He finally came to the conclusion that he should make money from what he was most good at: closing business deals. After all, he had more than enough hands-on experience from running Spaulding. So he would start his consulting business.

With that in mind, he had spent his last week in New York arranging the sale of his shares of WSPR to get his hand on capital, writing his letter to Holly and planning his move to Chicago. He had chosen this city with a lot of consideration. The downside was that it was close to Springfield and it would be that much harder to stay away. The upside was that it was a great place to do business, and most of his business relations were in that area.

He suspected that some people would refuse to hire him because he had embezzled Spaulding money a few years back. Some would abstain to deal with him out of respect (or most likely out of fear) for Alexandra. He was however fairly confident that the majority would overlook his past errors and seek him out for his business acumen. He turned out to be right, and his appointment book started filling up almost as soon as he started advertising his services through his connections. He had already had to hire Megan, who was turning out to be a great asset. If they played it right, he would soon have to hire someone else and rent and office.

The sounds of her steps made him step back into reality. "Well? Is everything to you liking?"

"Are you kidding me? I would kill for this apartment!" She looked at him with a playful smile. She could not help turning on the charm when she was with him, but she was always careful not to overdo it. She had been violently attracted to him from the start, but she was perceptive enough to see that he was not a man that one could easily win over. This aura of mystery was what attracted her most. There was something in him that made him keep everybody at a distance and she could not figure out what it was.

As the though crossed her mind, her eyes fell on the mantelpiece where she saw a picture of two redheaded women smiling for the camera. With a sinking heart, she thought that she had finally gotten the lay of the land. She turned around and said, pointing at the picture: "Is that your wife and daughter?" praying all the while that he would deny it.

Roger continued to look outside. "The one on the right is my daughter, Blake." He kept silent for a few seconds and then added: "With her mother, Holly. My ex-wife."

Megan felt that there was something more than his answer was letting on, but knew better than to ask why he kept a picture of his ex-wife. "Anyway, he is not married, so it's all fair play". She looked at the picture more closely and realized with a start that she had actually seen Roger's ex-wife that very night at the hotel. She started to speak and then though better of it. Maybe Roger knew that Holly was in town, but if not, she was not the one who was going to give him that information.

She finished her drink, went over next day's meetings with Roger and left him to his thoughts, whatever they might be.

Meanwhile, at the hotel, Fletcher stood next to Holly' hotel room door, waiting for her to exit the elevator. He felt nervous, like a school boy. He tugged absent-mindedly at one of his sleeves while Holly rummaged through her bag to find the key to her room. Conflicting thoughts were colliding in his head, ranging from the importance of work ethics to pictures of Holly leaning naked against her desk. He wiped his forehead and plastered a smile on his face when he realized that she was staring at him.

"Are you ok?" she asked with a trace of sarcasm in her voice, as if she had seen what was on his mind. That voice…

Fuck ethics, he thought. He took a step closer but did not answer. Holly barely had time to realize what was going on before he had taken the key from her hand and ushered her inside the room. He slowly closed the door behind them and gently pushed her against it, staring into her golden eyes. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest. He took his time before leaning and grazing her neck with his lips, as is he was afraid to break the spell by making a false move. She caught her breath when he buried his face in her hair and he heard her whisper his name. Not Roger's. His.

It was as if the blood in his veins had suddenly turned to fire. He crushed her against the door, finding her mouth and lifting her dress to grab her legs, her thighs, any part of her that he could get his hands on. He could feel her body responding to his, her breathing getting faster and faster, fueling his desire. And then, all of a sudden, she went limp against him.

"What is it?" he whispered, even though he already knew. That asshole, he thought. He's here even though he is not.

She gently pushed him away and walked to her bed. "It's too soon, Fletch. I am sorry."

Fletcher forced himself to stay where he was. "Ok. Do you mean to say that there might come a time when it would not be too soon?"

She faced him and he could see the distress in her eyes. "I don't know. Maybe. All I know for sure right now is that I am utterly confused."

His heart sank in his chest.

She hesitated and then added: "But I feel different about you now than I did a couple of months ago, that much I know."

His heart lifted. This small hope made it easier to be a graceful loser.

"I use to hate your guts, so, yeah, same here". He backed towards the door. "You take your time, Red. You know where to find me if you change your mind."

Holly waited until she was alone to sink on the floor. She could not deny that feelings were growing between Fletcher and her, but as soon as they had started kissing, bits of conversation from earlier in the evening sprang to her mind. Roger was gone, truly gone, and did not want to be found. He had given up on her. This is what she had wanted all along. But now that it had happened, why did it hurt her more than anything else in the whole world?