After apologizing on Mac's behalf and telling the other guests at the table that her twin had died in a tragic fancy dinner accident ("I mean that's just what I heard," he shrugged), Dick grabbed the bread basket and hurried to catch up with her.

Through the nearest French doors he could see her disappearing into the exquisitely landscaped gardens. He noted the direction she was heading in and then asked his buddy the bartender if he could trouble him for two glasses and something for the road.

A few minutes later, bottle of Reisling tucked under his arm, he found Mac in a labyrinthine garden lit only by hundreds of little white lights strung along the tops of tall hedges. She was at the end of an ivy-covered arbor and he followed her into a clearing lined with stone benches. He put his supplies down on the grass and shoved his hands in his pockets, letting himself watch her for a minute. She was staring at the overflowing flower bed in the center of the clearing. He was loathe to interrupt her, but he realized that if she looked over and saw him he would be labeled for life as a creeper in her eyes.

"I wonder how much Star would give me for this shot," he finally said, using his fingers to frame the scene. "'Cindy Mackenzie pauses to reflect on nature's beauty.'"

She gave him a half-smile, and slumped down onto one of the benches.

"Come on," she said. "You know as well as I do that I'm not worth anything without the big name at my side. I'm only somebody because someone famous decided he liked me."

"You were always somebody," Dick said, grabbing the wine and food and coming to join her on the bench.

She looked at him skeptically as she accepted a glass. "Pretty sure I'm always going to be 'that celebrity's girlfriend,' or, 'that PHAT guy's girlfriend,' or—" she stopped herself and watched the wine spill into her glass. "Well, you know."

She raised the glass in a half-hearted toast and took a healthy sip.

"Did you tell the A-lister about him?" Dick asked.

She shook her head in reply. "It's nobody's business but the people who knew him."

"Amen," he said quietly. He liked that about Mac.

"It's incredible, really," she said. "That his name has been kept out of all of this. I kept waiting to wake up one day and find out Perez had dug up the whole tawdry ordeal, and all the progress I felt like I'd made would be out the window."

"The public has a short memory span," Dick said.

"Yeah. And it's not like we were married. High school dating, there's no record of it other than the notes he used to pass me between classes."

"He wrote you notes?"

"Yeah."

"Can I read them?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

He sighed. "Okay."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Dick coughed.

"So how are you paying the bills these days?" he asked. "I mean, I know you, and you wouldn't let your boyfriend pay your way."

"Oh, sweetie," she said. "I'm famous. Everyone thinks they know me."

He laughed loudly, and she settled back against the hedge wall behind her and scratched at her arm. "Well, you're right. He hates it that I won't let him give me money or pay off my loans or anything. But I do a lot of tech consulting jobs, and most of them come in through his connections, so it evens out I guess."

"Well, that's good," Dick said lamely, straining for some more insightful comment but coming up empty. "So, what was so important that he had to miss seeing you look so pretty tonight?" It was a statement he immediately regretted, and when she lifted her head from the hedge (a few stray springs stuck in the back of her hairdo), in his head there was the word "boyfriend" written in neon lights on her forehead.

"First of all," she said, "I know I am not as good at getting myself ready as the team of pros is, so he probably wouldn't have been that impressed. And who knows? He gets a dozen pitches a day. This meeting today could be about Saw XXIV or a live-action Pokémon movie."

"He didn't tell you?" Dick said.

Mac looked at him speculatively, then glanced around the garden and leaned in conspiratorially.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone this," she said.

"Mum's the word," Dick said, shifting to face her completely. He frowned when she hesitated. "Seriously, Mac, the lip is zipped. What is it?"

She sighed. "We're not actually a couple anymore, so much."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I broke up with him two months ago and we're not a couple anymore."

Dick blinked. "Wow," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "But it was amicable."

He raised his eyebrows and she smirked.

"I know, that line's older that dirt. But with us it really was. I mean, so much so that sometimes we forget we're broken up, if you know what I mean."

His lip turned up without his permission-he knew exactly what she meant from all the times he'd backslid with Madison, and later with Melinda. She was sipping her wine, unconcerned, and he cast around for something to keep the conversation moving.

"So how'd you keep it quiet?" he finally asked.

Mac shrugged. "I've been staying at his place since I can't exactly go apartment-hunting without people catching on. Plus, he likes being by himself, so there aren't a lot of people around to go running to the magazines that there's trouble in paradise."

"But there wasn't, right?" Dick asked. "I mean, he was never like, bad to you or anything?"

"No," she said, looking appalled. "God, no. He's really a great guy—I think you'd like him. I mean, I loved him. And maybe if our situation was different, I'd be married right now, instead of at the wedding of a girl I hate down to her very core."

Lost in thought, Dick finished his glass and poured himself another. After he'd taken a gulp, he focused on her again. "How long do you have to pretend?" he asked. "I won't see you in a few years driving a convertible with an 'KOLES2' license plate, will I?" he asked, stomach dropping at the very idea of Mac going the way of Lynn Echolls.

"Not very much longer. You know, you'd think, it's over, what does it matter when we tell the world? But his publicist says timing is everything. There's this big premiere in London at the end of the month and I'm supposed to be there on Brady's arm. Honestly I think he's just going along with it so he can prepare himself for the media storm. It's bad now, but I can't even imagine how much worse it will get when the story breaks."

"If you're going to bash a paparazzo car with an umbrella, can you tell me ahead of time so I can be there to see it?"

She bit off a large chunk of a roll. "I'll try to forecast any outbursts so you can bear witness."

"Awesome."

She smiled wearily.

"One more question," he said, and watched her tense. "If you hate Madison so much, why did you come here?"

She stared back at him for a few beats, and he grinned. "I knew it."

"What?"

"You came here because you totally have a thing for me."

His grin only grew wider when she laughed out loud. "Oh my God, you wish! You sleazebag."

When he stopped laughing he raised his glass. "Here's to your emancipation," he said, clinking the glass in her hand.

"Hear, hear," she said.

"Have you thought about who's next on your list?"

"What?"

"You're supposed to move onto another movie star now," he said. "Isn't that the normal pattern?"

Mac leaned back with a sigh. "Actually, I'm really looking forward to being normal again," she said. "Buying books without tabloids dissecting what my purchases say about me, being able to go to the lady-doctor's without being followed by paparazzi, et cetera."

"So you won't be adopting a little kid from Africa?" he said.

"Not anytime soon. I think I'm done with dating in the Hollywood world."

"I hear ya," Dick said. "That's why I won't return Miley Cyrus's phone calls."

Mac laughed before kicking off her heels and making herself comfortable. She held out her empty glass and he refilled it.

"You know what, Dick?" she asked. "I'm having a really good time at this wedding. Are you?"

"Definitely one of the better ones I've been to," he said.

"Why didn't you bring a date?" she asked, pushing herself forward to sit Indian-style for her interrogation. "Do you date? I've been sitting here talking about me me me, and I haven't asked you one question about how things are going for you."

"Yes, I date," he said, feeling offended. "But it's like I told you, I like to keep my options open. What if I'm at a wedding and some famous chick shows up fresh off a breakup? How's a date gonna help me then?"

Mac grinned and him and tilted her head. "I think that scenario is a little different if you met the famous chick when she was exceedingly awkward and antisocial."

He smiled back. "I guess it is."

"How's work?" she said.

"Ah, I like it," he answered honestly. "Never planned on having a job, but it turns out I'm really good at making hotels awesome. I'm making moves to buy a third one now."

"I don't think I'm surprised," she said. "You were always fairly enterprising."

"Plus I lived at the Grand for like forever," he pointed out. "Seemed like a logical career move."

"Totally," she said with a judicious nod. "Do what you know, man."

He couldn't smother his grin at that. He liked hearing her talk like a regular person again.

"Are you laughing at me?" She pushed him with her foot and almost succeeded in unseating him, and they both laughed harder.

"Sorry, dude, I don't mean to," he said. "It's just very funny sitting here with you right now."

"I know," she said mildly. "I keep waiting for Principal Clemens to pop out of the bushes or something." Dick's laughter at that caught him so off-guard that this time he did in fact fall off the bench.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay with this story...these chapters and the ones to come gave me a really hard go of it. I guess this is why I need to go back to my method of finishing a story completely before posting any part of it! Thanks for bearing with me, hope you enjoy.