A/N: Just thought I'd poke my head back in and wish you all a happy Easter! To celebrate, this chapter is a little early. :D

Step 3

She had walked into her apartment wondering if she had stumbled into a fairy tale. At least, that's how it sounded when she told the story to her roommates, who begged for every detail. She spent an hour recounting the food, the music, and the conversation until the other girls were sure that Gillian had just met Prince Charming. But when they asked her how they met in the first place, she wasn't sure what to tell them. You don't chance upon Prince Charming at a meeting for coke addicts, and it is supposed to be anonymous, right? So she said that Dr. Kinnon had introduced them, and that was enough to satisfy their curiosity.

The next morning, when the black dress was back in its place and she had to return to life as usual, it almost felt like it had never happened at all. She still had papers to grade and classes to teach, and she had to get at least something done on her dissertation. She took a look at herself in the mirror, once again in her sweatshirt and jeans, and sighed as she went back to her daily grind.

She didn't expect him to call her that next day. She certainly didn't expect him to start calling her every night from different locations along the campaign trail. Yet, she found herself racing home from the library every night so that could hear his voice. Before Alec, she had told people that she didn't have enough time to date, and now, wasn't that what she was doing? Wasn't she dating him through a phone line? All she really knew was that she couldn't wait to hear the phone ring, and hear some fascinating story about the places he saw and the people he had met.

The nightly phone calls went on for months, each conversation lasting until the early hours of morning. Sometimes, Gillian would wake up with the phone still in her hand. It annoyed her roommates to no end, but she didn't care. He taught her about politics and she would tell him about her studies in psychology, but they also discussed everything in between—art, pop culture, romance, literature. She was surprised with how much they had in common, and how she never grew tired of talking to him.

Then, one day, Alec's voice grew serious.

"Gillian, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

A favor? What could he possibly need from her when she was in North Carolina and he was in Nebraska?

"Depends. What do you need?."

"I want you to visit me."

"What?"

"There's a formal ball in D. C. on election night. I was hoping you'd be my date."

She almost dropped the phone.

"Alec, I don't think I'm the kind of girl for that kind of party. That dress I wore to Luigi's isn't even mine."

"If I could take care of the dress and your flight, could you come?"

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself in a ball gown, surrounded by politicians and reporters. All she could see was a tired, frumpy grad student with an armful of books blinking at the flashing lights. Her stomach flipped.

"I really don't think I'd make good arm candy. I'm sure it would be easier and less expensive if you asked someone else."

"I don't want to go with anyone else."

In the back of her mind, Gillian knew that their conversation would eventually lead to what she had to say next. At some point, she would have to make the fairy tale end.

"Listen, Alec, I don't go to fancy balls. I'm not poised and I never know what to say. I don't know anything about wine, or makeup, or dresses, or anything remotely related to that kind of lifestyle. I'm not like you at all."

"That's exactly why I want to spend the evening with you."

"Alec . . ."

"Gillian, I promise you that I have everything taken care of. I'll buy you a flight, and we can spend the whole day helping you get ready. I've already scheduled an appointment for your hair, nails, and makeup, and we can buy you a dress when you get here."

"No, I can't accept that. It's too much of your time and money."

"It's more than worth it if I get to see you again. Just listening to your voice over the phone is driving me crazy. I'm willing to do what it takes to get you here."

"I . . . I still don't know."

She put the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she ruffled through the papers on her desk. When she found her calendar, she looked at the date in question and frowned.

"Besides, it's on a Tuesday, right? I have to teach a class the next morning, and I've got a meeting with Dr. Kinnon that I can't get out of."

"I'll get you home for your bedtime, I promise. Besides, don't you want to meet the man who could be your next president? And if nothing else, you should come for the food."

"What kind of food?"

Step Four

Even as she walked off of the plane, she couldn't believe what she was doing. An hour ago, she had been in North Carolina, and now she was in the nation's capitol, armed with nothing but a purse, looking for a man she hadn't met in person since that night over four months ago. As she walked towards the gate, she saw the waiting faces and scanned for the expensive suit that Alec had worn the last time they were together. She soon realized that it was nowhere to be found. Instead, she saw a man with the same glasses and neatly combed hair, but this time wearing a faded UCLA tee, ripped jeans, and sneakers. He smiled brightly when he saw her and leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"How was your flight?"

"You're wearing jeans."

He looked at the article of clothing in question and returned his gaze to her. "Yeah, I am."

"I didn't even think that a person like you would own a pair of jeans."

Alec's smile widened. "Today, Gill, you're going to see exactly what kind of guy I am."

It wasn't until they parked in front of his apartment that she understood what he had meant. She had expected a gated community with some sort of security detail and a celebrity neighbor, but she found herself in front of a dirty, neglected building that wasn't very different from the abandoned gym where they had met.

"You live here?" She put her hand over her mouth when the words slipped out. He put his arm around her and squeezed.

"Not what you were expecting, was it?"

"Well . . ." How could she put it? " I mean, not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just with the suits and the restaurant, I just thought . . ."

"I had to eat peanut butter and jelly for a month to afford that dinner."

"What? How did you afford my plane ticket?"

He shrugged. "I had some frequent flyer miles from all of the traveling I've been doing this summer. Didn't cost me a dime."

"But the dress you were going to buy, and the hair appointment . . ."

"Don't worry about that now, it's all taken care of. I just wanted you to see the man behind the curtain. Come on in."

The inside of his apartment was tiny, but clean. It was a studio space with a bed in one corner and a stove in the other. Besides the haphazard collection of papers and books in various piles along the floor, the only other object in the room was a cheap kitchen table and two chairs. She saw a door for the bathroom and another for a closet, but that was it.

"I'm so confused," she finally said.

"Confused, or disappointed?"

She searched her feelings so she could be sure of her answer.

"No, not disappointed. Mostly confused, maybe a little betrayed?"

Alec returned her uneasy look with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry about the deception. I want you to know that I didn't lie to you; I just let you believe what you wanted."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why did you make me think that you were rich?"

He shrugged. "I try to make everybody believe that I'm rich. It's all part of the game. My line of work is seventy-five percent appearance, and only about twenty-five percent results. So I play the game."

She dragged her eyes from the bare room to examine his face.

"And the truth?"

He sighed. "The truth is that I'm the son of a single mom who owns a hair salon in a small town. The truth is that I have no idea who my father is, and I grew up in an apartment just like this one. But the real truth, the answer to the question I see inside of your head, is that I'm the same guy you've been talking to over these past few months."

"Except you lied to me."

He shook his head. "I would have told you if you asked. You never wanted to talk about money."

"That's because I don't have any."

"See? Neither do I! It's just one more thing we have in common." He placed his hands on both of her arms when she rolled her eyes at him. "Look, if you want to leave and never speak to me again, I can book you a flight home. I'm sorry that I misled you, but when we met, I was scared that you wouldn't like me if you knew."

"You thought I wouldn't like you if you didn't have money?" She was disgusted at the thought.

"I'm a guy, Gill. Guys are stupid like that sometimes—caveman instincts. But I knew that when you came here, I'd have to come clean. So do you want to stay, or should we head back to the airport?"

At that moment, Gillian honestly didn't know. She knew she should probably be furious about him deceiving her, but hadn't all of his money been what she was so worried about in the first place? Wasn't she feeling just the slightest bit relieved that he hadn't brought her to some stuffy mansion?

"How many people know about this? Your double life, I mean."

"Well, there's my mother, and there's you. I only tell the women that I love."

"And you really think that this is healthy?"

He seemed pleased that she wasn't walking out the door. "It's just for a little while, until I can land a job that will get me the salary. I need Then, this part of my life will be over. But I can't get the job if I don't have the suit. A psychologist should know that."

"I don't know if you're really smart, or just really sick."

"Well," he said, suppressing a laugh, "if it's the latter, then I've got you to help me. So are you going to stay?"

Gillian's head was spinning so fast that it was only now that she realized that she had missed something vital.

"Wait, you love me?"

"Yes."

"And you want me to stay?"

"Yes."

The wave of emotions that was crashing over her was unsettling. Anger, hurt, surprise, relief—now this? She had to wait for the wave to pass before she would be able to give a sensible answer.

And then he flashed that same smile that she had seen the first time she met him.

"Well, I hear that the food at the party is worth staying for."

A pained smile was offered in response as he offered her his arm.

"In that case, do you want to see what I have planned for you?"

She hadn't told him that she loved him back, and she could see that he was disappointed. She would have told him if she knew one way or the other. It was just too much to take in at once. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed onto his arm tightly and let him escort her back to the car.

A/N: When I was trying to think of how to describe Alec's mother, I thought of a woman I know who owns a hair salon, from the small town I used to live in. You'll probably never read this, but Debbie, this chapter is dedicated to you. :)