"Are you sure you're okay?" Bobbie asked when she found Cruz in front of the bedroom mirror fixing his tie. She wouldn't be concerned if it were daytime. She wouldn't be concerned if he had just started messing with the tie instead of fussing with it for almost half an hour. She glanced down at Majandra who was making sucking noises in her sleep and shifted her to the other arm.

"I'm fine. It's just important this goes well." Cruz said, tugging uncomfortably at his tie and trying to wipe the uncertainty from his face.

"It's seven o'clock at night. Can't this wait until the morning?" Bobbie pressed.

"No. It can't wait." Cruz shook his head as a last-ditch effort to keep her from arguing the point further.

"Would you please tell me what this is about?" Bobbie insisted.

"I'll know more when I get home. We'll talk tomorrow." Cruz abandoned the mirror, spun around to kiss his wife and daughter, and then stumbled out the front door.

"Tomorrow?" Bobbie demanded to herself. She watched his car zoom out of the driveway and head east, toward the newspaper. None of his staff knew what was going on; she knew, she had called and asked when he first came up with the idea to bring them altogether. Something was wrong. She could feel it in the deepest recesses of her brain, but he didn't want to share it with her. In so many ways, even with all the vows they had made to each other, he was facing the world alone.

Half terrified she would tip the scales if she gave him the "we'll get through this, whatever it is" conversation, she had said nothing. Other than a few well-placed questions, she was just as clueless now as she had been when he took that call at dinner. So here she would stay until he came home and explained it to her. He would tell her tonight, not tomorrow. Exactly how long was this meeting supposed to take? What had him spooked? She would have tracked down the person who called him in the first place, but he had made other calls since then so it couldn't be traced.

Cruz wiped his hands down his green silk shirt. He had to stay calm. This could all blow over. All he had to do was keep his head. There was no reason to freak out his employees. He was hoping he hadn't already with this last-second staff meeting. He knew Bobbie was suspicious. Those sneaky Spencer traits Luke always swore he and his relatives shared couldn't be found in her. She wore her heart on her sleeve, all too often getting it trampled on. As much as he wanted to go home and tell her everything, he didn't have all of the facts yet so it would be little than speculation. And that wouldn't be fair to her.

Businesses collapsed all the time. Some people just couldn't hack it. The newspaper business was one of the most expensive and, at times, the most thankless job around. It required specific, around the clock care. The stories weren't always there. Witnesses weren't always willing to participate. Police often got in the way. Rival stations closed all the time in the bigger cities like New York, Chicago, even L.A.

So what was he so worried about? His old partner and the present owner of his biggest rival, The PC Chronicle, Jesse Beaudry, had called him in the middle of dinner tonight to tell him that his business had completely collapsed on itself and he figured Cruz would want to be the first to know. Bad joke aside, Cruz had been less than pleased. He respected Beaudry, had shared The Insider with him until he decided it was too low-scale and left to build his own empire, but it was more than that. The Chronicle had been more successful. Every story had been followed up. Every detail had fallen into place. They were friends with at least half a dozen PCPD officers so they were able to get the exclusive stories first and faster. Every source that had ever helped the newspaper was treated especially well after the story wrapped up. Wined and dined, Beaudry liked to brag.

Closing his doors on such short notice? It made more sense for Jesse to have called to offer Cruz a loan. He wasn't an extravagant spender. He had no family to provide for. His money went into the newspaper, just as Cruz's did, but he was able to more than turn a profit. He should have been able to retire in less than three years with the exposure The Chronicle had received. The call had come from above, Jesse had said. That must have meant one of the banks he dealt with. Cruz couldn't imagine the man in financial distress. He couldn't picture him having an enemy in the world. No compensation for the sweat and money he had put into the newspaper to make it a success. Just a little box with his stuff in it and no explanation.

"I thought about suing," Beaudry had admitted, "but they seemed to be expecting it and said it would be in my best interest not to go ahead with the suit." He hadn't ever been threatened before and he obviously didn't like it. "I just thought I would call and give you a head's up. If a paper like mine can sink, just think what that means for yours."

Gripping the steering wheel with enough force to make it squeak, he pulled his car into its assigned spot and walked into the building. Cool as a cucumber, he told himself. Cool as an ice cube. Cool as...Port Charles' winter. Cool. Calm. Focus. Direct. He wasn't going to lie to his employees if they asked him straight out if the newspaper was in trouble. However, if they didn't, he was going to let them live under the assumption that everything was fine. He opened the door to the only conference room they had and refused to cringe at how tightly packed in everyone was. Taking a deep breath, Cruz tried to prepare himself for what he was about to say. "I brought coffee."

*****

Steven nodded a hello to his grandmother when he saw she was on the phone. Probably exchanging recipes or setting up some sort of bake sale for the community. His grandmother was good at things like that. He knew she missed volunteering at the hospital but after her stroke he also knew that was the last place she wanted to be. Letting himself into the living room, he found Georgie on the couch with her eyes closed and a book folded open across her stomach. He smiled and leaned down to give her a kiss.

"Steven." Georgie smiled slowly. "How was your day?"

"Good. Good. Nothing to write home about. How was yours?" He picked up her feet, sat down, and then balanced them on his lap.

"Educational." She stated cryptically.

"Yeah? Like a documentary or something?" He couldn't quite picture her sitting down to watch the History Channel, but stranger things had happened.

"Something like that." Georgie kicked her feet off his lap and pulled them under her. "Steven, I'm just curious. Not that I don't love having you around all the time, but have you given any thought about what your next job is going to be?"

"Sick of me already?"

"Yes."

"Ouch. Don't get your panties in a twist. I have some prospects. One right here in Port Charles."

"Really? Who on Earth would be filming on Port Charles?"

"Guy Tucker. He's an old friend of your cousin, Lucas's."

"Guy Tucker?" Georgie vaguely remembered Lucas's first boyfriend. While she was still learning about the movie business, she had a feeling a short student film wasn't exactly in the same league as what her husband was aiming for. "I wasn't aware he was still in town."

"He's just passing through." Steven told her.

"Well that's great." Georgie leaned back on the couch and before jerking back upright, feigning surprise. "Oh! I forgot you have a message on the machine."

"I do?" Steven didn't know quite what to make of his wife's mood swings. One minute she was smiling, the next suspicious, and now a little too excited.

"Yeah. I saved it for you."

"Okay, thanks." Steven walked over to the answering machine and hit the play button. Immediately, he wished Georgie wasn't standing anywhere near him. She had already heard too much when the caller addressed himself. Baz Luhrmann. The same man who wrote Romeo & Juliet and Moulin Rouge. He was interested in giving Steven a job. Steven's mouth went dry. He turned to face Georgie who looked neither happy nor excited any longer. "You listened to this first."

"Of course I did."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to see if you were going to tell me the truth." Georgie crossed her arms. "According to that he's offered you this job at least twice and you've turned him down."

Steven ran his hand down his face, telling himself she had every right to be mad. In her words, he heard only resentment and disappointment. "And I've explained to him both times why I don't want it."

"Explain it to me. Explain to me why you'd turn down a huge opportunity like this to work with Guy Tucker."

"I have my reasons."

"Fear of success?"

"No, but keep guessing if you want to."

"I'd rather you just tell me." Georgie rose and stood in front on him, placing her hands on his chest. "This is huge. It's exactly the job you've always wanted."

"It's not exactly what I wanted."

"It's an A list director. And one who's known for visually stunning films. Even I know that much." Georgie pointed out. "You could work with whoever you wanted when you pull this off."

"Let's just drop it." Steven walked around her and threw his jacket on the hook.

"No. This is too important to just drop." Georgie followed him around the room.

"It's not your decision." Steven pointed out.

"It's our decision." She corrected him.

"Well as the other half of that we, I'm telling you to let it go."

"I just don't understand. Why would you turn this down? Just explain it to me that much."

Steven turned to face her. "I don't want to be on the other side of the world when you're here? Okay?"

Georgie bit her bottom lip and reached her hand up to trace his face with her fingertips. "Who said I wouldn't follow you?"

"We're talking about Australia."

"And?"

"What about school?"

"Steven." Georgie chuckled lightly. "We met while I was studying abroad. I can reapply for the Australian program."

"Really?"

"Yes really. This is too important for you to pass up. I'm not going to be the reason why you don't fulfill your dreams."

"Australia here we come!" Steven cheered, picking up the phone.

Previews:

"Don't start with you? You're the one following me! And I don't recall inviting you in!" Lulu protested.

"So call a cop." Evan called from the kitchen.