A/N: Hey, all. All right, there are three new chapters up. If there are any glaring mistakes, please let me know. I hope you like them. Thanks for all the support. Oh, and Adam had to go back to New York eventually. After all, he lives there. You just have to trust me. And, for the record, I don't line this horizontal line thing ff.net has going on. I liked my asterisks.

Alexandri

"What are we watching?" Adam asked as he preceded Madison into the living room. He carried the drinks while she brought the popcorn. He sat, set the glasses on the coffee table and looked up, waiting for her answer.

"I hope you don't mind. I'm sort of in a romantic comedy mood." Smiling, she set the popcorn bowl in his lap and laid her head on his shoulder.

Adam put his arm around her, pulling her more comfortably against his side. "That's fine with me." He kissed her forehead for good measure. Ever since the night of the showing, he'd determined to pay more attention to her. It had been working so far. "So what are we watching?"

"Taming of the Shrew with Liz Taylor and Richard Burton and Much Ado About Nothing. I was feeling Shakespearean. And, since Liz and Richard are depressingly beautiful, I thought we'd watch Much Ado first." Madison picked up the DVD remote and pressed play before Adam could object.

With a resigned sigh, Adam sat back and concentrated on not remembering the first time he'd seen this movie.

"You're joking, right?" Grace had asked when Joan told them what they were watching. "You get one pick for movie night once a month and you chose Shakespeare?"

"I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone," she said as she pushed the tape into the VCR. "We have to read it in my drama class, and I've tried, but I'm not getting it. Maybe this way I will." Joan sat on the sofa and curled her legs beneath her before slipping her hand into Adam's.

Grace glared at Joan. "This better be good, Girardi."

"Chill, Grace," Adam said as Luke said, "It will be."

Grace just turned her glare on Luke who turned toward the TV. They were only ten minutes into the movie when Grace and Luke started debating the merits of Beatrice versus Benedick. Grace called Benedick a chauvinistic prick; Luke said Beatrice was bitter. Trying not to laugh, Joan and Adam kept their eyes glued the movie.

Everything was fine—once Joan turned on the closed captioning—until she returned from a popcorn run. Instead of sitting beside Adam, she settled in his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. "It's safer here than next to those two," she whispered in explanation. "Besides, you're comfortable."

Except he wasn't. Between the scent of her surrounding him and the way she absently trailed her fingertips up and down his arm, Adam was distinctly uncomfortable. He spent the next hour waiting for the movie to end and fervently wishing it wouldn't.

As the credits rolled up the screen, she pulled back and smiled at him. Her smile faded as she stared in his eyes. He lowered them, hoping she hadn't realized the extent of his discomfort. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't think about . . ." She moved to sit beside him. Both were surprised when he tightened his arm around her waist.

For a long moment, they merely stared at each other. "You know what I think?"

"What?" he whispered.

"I think you and I are like Claudio and Hero and Grace and Luke are like Beatrice and Benedick." She gazed at the bickering pair with an indulgent smile. "We know we're meant to be and it's going to take forever for them to figure it out."

"If that's true," Adam said after thinking about it for a moment, "then we're destined to break up."

Joan shook her head. "Never gonna happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We love each other too much." She brushed her lips across his before settling in for a deeper kiss.

"Adam?"

Blinking, he looked down to find Madison watching him. A glance at the TV told him the movie was almost over. He'd spent the whole time thinking about his ex-girlfriend. Damn it.

Madison sat up and pushed away from him. She stopped the movie and turned on the lamp beside her. "We need to talk."

"Yeah." He hated these talks. It's obviously not working, but we gave it our best, didn't we? It was never true, not for him anyway. The truth was that he barely tried at all. He just coasted along, hoping someone would break through and touch his heart.

"You still love her, whoever she is, don't you?"

"Probably." Liar, he scolded himself. Stop fooling yourself. You don't want to admit it, but you still love Jane—wholly, exclusively, undeniably. "Yes."

"So I'm, like, your rebound girl?" Madison asked.

Flinching at the dejection in her voice, Adam couldn't hold back his sullen chuckle. If only. "No, you're not my rebound girl. Apparently, there is no rebounding from her."

"Suddenly, I'm not in a romantic comedy mood anymore."

"I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "I didn't realize . . . hadn't admitted . . . I thought I was over her. I should probably go."

Madison snickered. "It seems like you say that every time you come over."

Adam stood and got his coat, grateful that she hadn't screamed at him or anything like that. Of course, she was perfectly entitled to. He had strung her along because he was unwilling to examine his heart. "I wish I could make this right somehow."

"You can't," she said. He could hear unshed tears in her voice. "Just leave, please?"

Nodding, he opened the door. "Good-bye, Madison."

Adam glanced at his watch—three thirty-two. Looking back at his list, he realized he'd never make it downtown to the bank or to SoHo to talk to Sasha about the gallery pieces she anticipated. At least he'd managed to talk to his editor about the illustrations he did while in Arcadia. And lunch with Dr. Riley had gone very well, especially considering he'd wanted to talk about his now nonexistent artistic block.

He should have gotten started with his day earlier, but inspiration had gotten the better of him. Smiling at the memory of his morning in the studio, he didn't regret a single second of it. Still, Adam figured he'd have to move some things around if he was going to fit Sasha in tomorrow. She'd go ballistic if she didn't hear from him soon. And he still had to meet with his broker, his lawyer and his agent. Pulling out the cell phone he'd forgotten he had in Arcadia, he dialed Sasha's number on his way to the subway.

"You promised you'd be here," Sasha scolded the moment she heard Adam's voice. "Today."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry's not good enough, Adam. I need to be in the loop . . ."

"I know, but . . ."

"But nothing." Talking to Sasha was always like this: berate now, get details later. "You have a show coming up . . ."

"In four months."

Sasha huffed. "That's exactly my point. You have a showing in four months and you don't have any more time to waste after last month's disappearing act. By the way, you don't write, you don't call."

Smiling in spite of Sasha's tirade, Adam apologized yet again. After all, he doubted his career would be as successful as it had been if it weren't for Sasha's support and connections. "It was a spur-of-the-moment disappearance."

"I understand. I appreciate the need to get away from it all. Really, I do. But you don't have that luxury, Adam, because, frankly, the last few pieces you showed me were pedestrian at best."

Adam sighed. Though it often hurt, Sasha's unfailing honesty was another reason why he was grateful to know her. She'd been after him for months now to take an artistic risk, explore his depths. I know you've got them, she often said. "You're right."

"I know I'm right."

"In that case, you'll be happy to know that I spent the entire morning working on some new pieces."

"And?"

Again, he smiled at the memory of his morning. "And I think they have the potential to be some of the best work I've ever done."

Her excited laugh soared over the phone. "Exploring your depths?"

"Something like that," he answered, chuckling at her hopeful tone. "Look, can I see you tomorrow?"

"Eleven o'clock, sharp," she said, switching back to business mode. "No excuses."

"I'll be there. Thanks, Sasha." He hung up and adjusted his list as he trotted down the subway steps. In the four days since he'd returned, Adam had been extremely busy. Between seeing his friends over the weekend and trying to get his affairs in order Monday and today, he'd barely had time for anything else. Like calling Joan. He'd called her Saturday right after he'd called his father, but hadn't talked to her since. He missed her.

Adam had just gone through the turnstile when he heard someone call his name. Turning, he came face-to-face with a stunning redhead. "Tanya."

"Fancy seeing you here." She came up to him, slipped her arm around his and led him down to the platform.

Shame washed over him as he thought of his treatment of her. True, their relationship had been difficult to define. But she'd deserved more than a phone call asking if they could just be friends.

"Let it go, Adam."

"Let what go?"

Tanya gave him a radiant smile. "The guilt."

"How did you know?"

Shrugging, she said, "You're a good guy. And it's written all over your face."

"I feel like I'm missing something."

Laughing, she gave his arm a little squeeze. "You are. Where are you headed?"

"Home," he answered, feeling off-balance. Tanya always made him feel that way.

"Mind if I ride with you? Only part of the way," she assured him.

"Sure."

In unison, they looked down the platform for the train. It was nowhere in sight. Uneasily, Adam turned back to Tanya. She seemed vastly amused.

"I'll go ahead and put you out of your misery," she announced. "You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"Why not?"

She smiled. "Because we weren't really together. I was rebounding and you were just along for the ride."

"Huh. I was your rebound guy?" That certainly explained her erratic behavior.

"Yeah." She looked so matter-of-fact about it, he couldn't help returning her smile. "You were perfect, too, what with your heart being somewhere else anyway."

Adam raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Tanya nodded. "Train's coming."

They fell silent as the train roared into the station. Jostled into the train, Adam and Tanya clung to a pair of straps. "How did you know my 'heart was somewhere else?'"

"Adam, please? You were either gay or in love with some woman you couldn't have. Well," she amended, "I suppose you could have been in love with some other guy, but that didn't seem right. Hence, the 'your heart was elsewhere' theory."

"I'm afraid you've lost me again."

"You didn't care about my fickle behavior toward you as a lover. You just treated me like a good friend." Tanya beamed at him. "Which is just what I wanted, by the way. Companionship, but no commitment."

"Okay." He'd known that he'd eventually have this conversation with her, but he had never imagined it would go like this.

"That's why I was so upset when you insisted on defining our relationship." Laughing at herself, she continued, "I felt like you'd violated an unspoken agreement between us. I have a habit of thinking people are on the same page I'm on. You'd think I would've learned by now that they rarely are."

He laughed despite his bewildered state.

"The point is," she said when their laughter subsided, "I didn't mean to cause you any confusion. I just like having a guy in my life, even if it's only as a friend. When I met you, you were so nice. It didn't hurt as much—not being with my boyfriend Matt—when I was with you. I'm sorry."

"So am I. I know you said I don't need to be, but I could have done better than a phone call."

"I'll agree with that." She grinned at him.

She seemed so genuinely all right with him that Adam relaxed. "Did things work out with Matt, then?"

Tanya nodded. "We're back together. What about you and the mystery woman?"

"It's a little shaky, but I think we're headed in the right direction."

The train pulled into Union Square station. "This is my stop," she said before kissing him on the cheek. "It was good seeing you, Adam."

"You, too, Tanya."

"Good luck with your mystery lady."

"Good luck with Matt," he replied as he followed her off the train and hopped on a different one. Adam spent the rest of the trip home mulling over his talk with Tanya. His night with Joan had made it clear that he couldn't continue coasting with Tanya. He'd called her after the next day and ended the limbo that was their relationship.

As he got off at Astor Place station and started walking home, he thought about her explanation of their association. A friendship because she liked having a guy in her life. It had sounded strange when she first said it, but Adam wondered if that's what he had been doing since he came to New York: filling the Jane void with a string of companionable friendships. Thinking of how he'd been with Tanya and Madison and the few other girls he'd dated, he realized that that was exactly what he'd done.

Immersed in his new insight, Adam let himself into his East Village apartment. He'd found girls who wouldn't demand much from him, then told himself that he was moving on when he was really keeping Joan's spot in his protected. The realization made him feel unspeakably selfish.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked himself as drifted over to the stereo and flipped through a row of albums. He'd been asking that since Joan dropped by his shed over a month ago. Selecting one of Rodney's Billie Holiday records, he decided that he'd continue with his current plan: get his business in order, then find a way to be with Joan. He refused to listen to the little voice that whispered, "What took you so long?"

Making Joan a permanent part of his life was too important to rush.