"Angela, honestly it's not like we haven't looked after kids before."

"Yes. But you haven't looked after this kid for so long before. You've gotta cut his toast into rectangles. Specifically, rectangles or he's gonna freak."

Patty sighed and placed her hands on her hips.

"And bedtime is the bus book followed by the dinosaur book. In that order." Angela continued to rattle off instructions to her mother as her father helped Jay hunt through his room for Benny the red bus.

Her parents were taking a much needed vacation to Florida and had all but begged to bring Jay along. Disney World,they'd pleaded. We never see our only grandchild, they'd whined. Angela hadn't been sure. It would be the longest she'd ever be away from Jay. Though a large part of her was dying for a break she'd never admit that to anyone.

"Found it!" Graham announced, emerging from Jay's room with the beloved bus.

"Mommy! I'm going with Granny and Grandpa!" Jay sped over to her and wrapped himself around her legs.

"You sure are, J bug," she hoisted him onto her hip, "you're gonna see Mickey Mouse!"

It was only after she'd talked it over with Rickie and Sharon that she'd agreed. Sharon aghast that she'd turn down the offer of free childcare and Rickie over the moon that Angela would be free to go out with him and Corey.

"And robots!" His grin was a mile wide.

Angela looked at her father and mouthed, robots? He shrugged in response.

"Okay, kid, we better get going. Next stop Disney World!"

Angela gave Jay a bone-squishing squeeze and breathed him in before handing him over to her parents.

"He'll be fine." Patty hugged her. "Enjoy your week off." Her mom held her eye. "Please. As a favour to me."

"Mom. God. Fine." She laughed. She planted another kiss on Jay. "You be good, kid. No funny business."

Graham moved to hug Angela but then froze when he saw the look on her face. He picked Jay up instead. "Ok, bye, honey, we'll see you in a week."

Angela nodded. "Yeah, bye Dad."

Patty looked between her daughter and her husband and sighed.

Ever since her father had his affair with Hallie and her parents broke up while she was in high school their relationship hadn't been the same. Her parents had eventually gotten back together but it had taken Patty reconnecting with her old boyfriend, Tony Poole and his proposal for Graham to ask for her back. Angela loved her father but still wasn't over what had happened.

Then Jay was gone.

The apartment felt like the aftermath of a whirlwind. Still moving with an energy that wasn't there.

Angela called Rickie. They decided they were gonna go out the next night to Dante's Inferno: one of Rickie and Corey's favourite bars. It was inside some fancy hotel four blocks from Angela's place and known to have some of the best cocktails in Manhattan.

Four blocks away, Jordan Catalano pressed his forehead against the glass window of his fancy hotel room and sighed down at the New York City skyline. It was just after 9 pm. He was running on at least three nights of no sleep. He was ragged and starving. If Shane was here, he'd be dragged out to some bar or restaurant or some party of whatever actor he knew was throwing. Jordan stayed in. He ordered room service and tapped out the last of his sleeping pills.

He woke up early the next morning, feeling hungover though he hadn't drunk anything. He was tired and cranky. He took a quick shower and dressed in his favourite low-key Rockstar outfit of ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, and black leather jacket. He pulled on his grey beanie, found his shades, and headed out the door.

At 7:40 am Jordan entered the big silver building on 711 Third Avenue. He had a radio interview on the fourth floor. Despite the caffeine swimming lovingly through his veins he still felt asleep. He pressed the button for the elevator then thought better of it and took the stairs. By the time he reached the recording booth, he was huffing but awake.

At 7:42 am Angela entered the big silver building on 711 Third Avenue. She had a pitch meeting on the sixth floor which started in five minutes whether she was there or not. She'd been trying to get in with Voltaire magazine for months and finally had something she thought they might be interested in. A job with them meant a healthy pay bump which she could definitely use. She scooted through security and rushed to the elevators. The doors opened as she arrived though she was the only one there. She sent a silent thank you to whoever had called the elevator for her and hurried inside.

"So, Jordan, tell us…any special woman in your life?" the radio host asked with a smirk.

Jordan frowned slightly. "Um…no comment." He really wasn't in the mood for this. Plus, this shit was in his rider.

"C'mon, Jordan, your fans want to know. You've been linked to so many women but you've never confirmed any of it. Are you currently single right now? Or are you gonna break many hearts by telling us you're taken?" he asked, eyebrows raised, all innocence.

Jordan huffed a breath out and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Look man, you can ask me anything about the tour or album…but my personal life…that's off-limits."

The host's eyes widened but he relented and asked him a few more questions from the 'allowed' column. The interview was soon over.

Jordan rubbed his eyes as he exited the building. The coffee they'd given him at the radio station was just brown flavoured water. He ducked into the nearest coffee shop and placed his order, leaning against the wall as he waited.

"Medium coffee, black with 1 sugar for Jared," the barista chirped cheerily as she placed his order on the counter.

Jordan picked up the coffee.

"Oh my god! Are you…" a female voice squealed.

A group of four girls were standing behind him. They were young, around sixteen or so, and were wearing what looked to be a high school uniform of some sort. A blue and white pleated kilt and white button-up shirts. They all started screaming. "Oh my god, it is you!"

"We love your band!"

Jordan coughed and nodded. "Uh, thanks."

"Oh my god! He talked to me!" They screamed and squealed again, and Jordan knew he was about to be ambushed.

Jordan turned and locked eyes with the barista.

"Uh, can I maybe get out the back entrance?"

She nodded and quickly let him behind the counter, ushering him out through the back as the manager held off the group of girls charging towards him.

"Ladies, please calm down, you cannot come back here," the manager said as other staff came to help him.

Angela was sitting at the far end of the coffee shop with Rickie. "So, they seemed to like it. Jocelyn wants me to send over a workup of how I see the profile looking so they can double-check it's the right fit for them. But…"

"Ah girl," Rickie grinned, "you are so in." He emptied a sugar packet into his mocha. "So, just so you know you have to dress up tonight! You hardly ever do and you're gonna be with me and Corey. It's not high school anymore where you can just wear flannel everywhere." He sat back and gave her an appraising look. "Wear the pencil skirt and red blouse."

Angela rolled her eyes. "Ok fine, Rickie, but I am not wearing those shoes."

Rickie's eyes widened. "You have to wear those shoes! They go perfectly with that outfit and besides they make your legs look a mile long and amazing!"

"But Rickie those shoes—"

Their attention was drawn by loud squeals and screams. Rickie and Angela looked at each other and turned towards the commotion. A group of high school girls in uniforms were rushing the coffee stand trying to get behind the counter while employees were blocking their way.

"Huh, I wonder what that's all about," Rickie said.

"I have no idea." Angela shrugged.

A guy plopped down in the seat next to their table holding a large cup.

"Celeb sighting," he announced. "Someone from the Backstreet Boys or some shit."

"Oh my god!" Rickie squealed "I love the Backstreet Boys! I want it that way! Love it!"

Angela laughed. "Wow, you're just as bad as those girls,"

Rickie rolled his eyes. "Oh pssh. I remember when you met Billy Corgan."

Angela folded her arms and eyed him. "Touché."

At 9:30 pm Jordan was at the bar in his hotel, Dante's Inferno. The place was filling up. He swirled his second scotch catching the reflection of the flames flickering behind the bar. The rest of the day had been alright. He'd met with their new producer and gone over his thoughts on the next album. Jordan could tell that he got it which was a relief. This album had him all twisted up with nerves. He'd written most of the songs after his breakup with Angela. There was more of him on this record than any other.

He'd then spent the rest of the day letting himself get absorbed into the giant humming beast that was New York City. This city had a certain pulse and buzz to it that was different to anywhere else in the world. He could feel it as he tapped his thumb against his glass, a smile working onto his face. This place was just so alive.

At 9:30 pm Angela entered Dante's Inferno.

She was right on time.

Rickie and Corey on the other hand…not so much.

She made her way through the growing crowd of people noticing that there seemed to be more men here than women. Which was probably why the boys liked it so much. Rickie and Corey would often check out other guys together for fun and tease each other about their choices if they didn't agree. They'd often use Angela as a tie-breaker, asking her who she thought was more attractive. She spotted an empty table in the back and made a beeline towards it.

Here, she punched out a text to Rickie, where are you guys?

There soon! Sorry! Did you wear the shoes?

Angela laughed to herself and shifted around so she could see them when they came in. There seemed to be no shortage of guys here for them to compare notes on tonight. One guy, in particular, caught her eye. He was at the bar wearing a black leather jacket and looking meaningfully into his drink. She watched as he sighed and closed his eyes. There was something about the movement that had her wondering what he might be thinking. She'd always been a sucker for hidden depths. Though he was sitting down Angela could tell that he was tall, at least 5'11. He also had nice broad shoulders. Dark brown hair that waved slightly at the ends peeked out from under his hat. He glanced up as the bartender asked him something and Angela's heart skipped a beat. It was brief but…she could have sworn it was Jordan.

She craned her head to get a better look, hoping he'd turn so she could see him more clearly, but was intercepted by the waitress asking for her order. When the view was clear the guy had angled away from her.

There's no way that's him. What would he even be doing in New York?

The waitress returned with her wine. Angela reluctantly turned her back on the guy at the bar and sipped her drink. Still, the possibility kept nagging at her. Was that him?

A man dressed in a pin-stripe grey suit and wavy brown hair approached her. He had wall street broker written all over him, complete with the arrogant smarmy confidence. "Um, excuse me, sweetheart, want some company?" He smiled.

"Oh, um…no thank you. I'm just waiting for my friends," she said. The man nodded and went on his way. That was easy. One thing Angela had noticed during her time in New York was that the men here were generally bolder, more aggressive, and more persistent than in Pittsburgh.

"Hey doll, you come here often? Can I buy you a drink? I'd love to get to know you better," said another man, wearing a custom-made black suit with dark brown slicked back hair. He stared down her blouse.

"Yeah, no, I'm good." Angela held her shirt closed. "And my eyes are up here." The man turned red.

"Uh…sorry…" he stammered as he walked away.

A few minutes went by and a guy with a blond ponytail, designer jeans, and a white long-sleeved thermal top slid into the seat next to her. He placed his drink on the table. "You look familiar have we met?"

Angela shifted away from him. "You know we haven't."

"Aw, don't be like that." He placed his hand on her knee. "Want some company, sweetheart? I promise you won't regret it."

Angela looked at his hand that was slowly inching up her thigh, then back up at him. She leaned forward slowly. He traced her with his eyes a knowing smile on his face. "You know," she said, "what they say about promises?"

He leaned towards her, his fingers grazing her skin. "What?"

Angela swept his drink onto his lap. "Don't make any you can't keep."

"WHAT!" The man stood, swiping at his pants. "YOU BITCH!"

Angela shrugged. That was New York for you.

Jordan looked over at the yelling coming from the back. Some idiot was losing it at this blonde woman in a red top. From what he could hear it seemed she'd tossed a drink on him. He smiled. Looking at her and looking at him, the guy probably deserved it. He watched as a burly security guard escorted the man from the premises. The woman returned to her drink obviously not fazed by the scene she'd just caused.

He loved a woman that could stand her ground. He'd always been a sucker for that.

The woman finished her drink and tucked her clutch under her arm. Jordan figured she was probably getting ready to leave and a small part of him was disappointed. He wanted to see her throw more drinks at people. But it turned out she was just headed for the restroom. As she stood, he got a full view. The blonde was wearing a form-fitting black pencil skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees and a clingy red satin blouse with the sleeves rolled up. She had a great figure. Slim but with a nice curve to her hips and rear. She had on a pair of those black high heels with the red soles. Jordan didn't know the name of that shoe but he wanted to send a gift basket to whoever had designed it.

Jordan kept staring. He definitely liked what he saw but there was also something strangely familiar about her.

Another guy approached her, and she turned slightly to say something back to him. Jordan was sure it would be something snarky. She tucked her hair behind her ear and…

No. No. No. Not this again, Catalano. That woman is not Angela Chase. You are so not getting off this stool.

He was losing his mind. Again.

"Excuse me. I don't mean to bother you but are you Jordan Catalano?" It was the bartender. Jordan nodded at him. The bartender grinned. "I'm a big fan," he said, voice hushed.

Jordan scrubbed a hand over his face. "Thanks, man."

The bartender introduced himself and Jordan shook his hand. The recognition was a welcome distraction from his Angela-Chase insanity.

"Would you please sign this for me?" he asked, sliding Jordan a napkin and a pen.

Jordan let out a small huff. "No problem but, um, I was really lookin' forward to just a quiet evening out by myself…know what I mean?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

The bartender nodded. "I get it. Don't worry, I won't say anything."

"I appreciate that." Jordan smiled as he quickly signed the napkin and slid it back to the bartender who beamed at him and tucked it away in his pocket.

Angela was in the restroom fixing her lipstick. Her mind drifted back to the man at the bar. It can't be him. Could it? God, what if it is?

As she walked back to her table, her eyes sought out the attractive dark-haired man at the bar. His profile was facing her, and he was talking to the bartender. She couldn't see much of his face, but his mannerisms and the way that he carried himself were eerily familiar. He had a swagger and easy confidence about him. It totally reminded her of Jordan.

Again, she wished he would turn so she could see him more clearly. She saw him write on a napkin and give it to the bartender who grinned at him, pocketing it. Angela sat back down. What would she do if that was Jordan Catalano sitting over there? Her heart hammered thinking of possible escape routes. There was just too much there. Too much pain. Too much left unsaid. He probably already hated her over how things had ended last time, not that it mattered. He deserved it. But now…she didn't even want to think about it.

The waitress brought over another glass of red. "Oh," Angela said, "I didn't order this."

"Mm," the waitress smiled and half rolled her eyes, "it's from him." She gestured at a man behind her.

Jordan turned and saw that the woman was already sitting down, her back turned to him. He frowned slightly, disappointed that he had missed her, but it was probably for the best. If it wasn't Angela there was crushing disappointment and if it was Angela there was…he didn't even know.

He ordered another drink as she was approached by yet another man. Jesus Christ this woman could sure draw them in. Three guys in the span of less than half an hour! Whatever she did look like, Jordan guessed she wasn't hideous. He watched anyway just to see her turn him down. This guy she seemed more open to though. His smile was giving it all away. But she still shook her head no as she took out her cell phone from her clutch and answered it, effectively dismissing him. Jordan watched as she tucked her hair behind her ear. His stomach flipped. The blonde hair was throwing him off but he could have sworn it was her.

Angela answered her phone. "Rickie, where are you?"

"Angela! I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I couldn't find the shoes that I wanted to wear because Corey had put them away and of course he forgot where and then he couldn't find his wallet and then it took us forever to get a cab. We'll be there in like five minutes! Ok?"

"Oh yeah sure, blame me," Corey complained in the background. Angela could practically see the eye roll that went along with that comment. She laughed and sighed. It would be at least another ten minutes before they showed up.

"Are you wearing that outfit I picked out for you?" Rickie asked.

"Yeah, I am."

"Even the shoes?"

"Yes, Rickie, even the shoes," Angela said, exasperated.

"So…did anyone pick you up?

"Umm…yeah…"

"How many guys?"

Angela groaned. "Five."

Rickie giggled. "See! I told you that you look amazing in that outfit! Am I good or what?"

Jordan watched her as she talked on the phone. If he went over there and it wasn't her it would just be another one-night stand. Unless, he smiled to himself, she turned him down as well.

Truth be told, he was getting sick of the meaningless hookups. Because no matter how many women he hooked up with, how beautiful they were or how great the sex was, he still couldn't get her out of his head.

And God, how he had tried. The media could spin you a good tale about Jordan Catalano's disastrous love life. Some true, some not. But none of it had meant anything to him. Once he'd accepted that it was really over and that Angela had left him for good he'd gone on a rampage. It was like he was trying to fuck her out of his system. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked.

No, he needed to just chill and be alone. He didn't need any complications right now. Jordan sighed in resignation and turned away from her. He finished his drink, paid for it, and left.

Angela placed her phone back in her clutch. She took a sip of her wine and turned around. The bar stool where the man had been sitting was empty. He was gone. Her heart sank. She had no idea why she felt so disappointed.