Rose was thankful she never questioned the relationship between her and Brandon. She simply offered them the entire third floor to rent, and then quietly said, "It has two bedrooms and a sitting room." Rose smiled at her, grateful for the discretion. Both women's eyes met with an unspoken understanding, and Rose knew right away that things would work out splendidly.

The third floor was wonderful. It was spacious with a huge picture window in the sitting room. You could look out the window and see the marvelous Hollywood Hills. Rose had called Allan and asked if he could ship some of her furniture to them. As usual Allan accommodated Rose as speedily and efficiently as possible. 'That was Allan,' Rose thought. They placed Rose's second hand couch in front of the window. Her small table that had once held her treasured pictures in her old apartment sat in front of it. The pictures that had once covered it were now replaced with sculptures and candles. The floor had a series of miss-matched throw rugs. On the walls hung paintings that Rose had found in second hand shops. From the ceiling, Brandon placed brightly colored Chinese lanterns. The room was a huge mix n' match mess of colors, designs, and decorations. "Its absolutely hideous and I love it!" Rose had exclaimed to Brandon. Grinning from ear to ear he picked her up and swung her around in the air as if she was a doll.

There was plenty of space for Brandon to practice his Gung Fu. In the morning Rose would drink her coffee curled up on the coach and watch him with amazement. He looked so fragile but masculine all at the same time. His taunt muscles in his arms, legs, and abdomen were rippling as if they were fluid. His face always bore the same intense look every time he practiced Gung Fu. Rose could never shake the feeling she was losing him to some unseen force. Just as soon as his trance had began, it ended. Slowly he would bow, as his mind would come back to the present. Once again he belonged to Rose. Like a cat he would move toward her, bend down and kiss her passionately on the lips. It was a routine they would practice their entire life together.

Rose kept her bedroom simple. Just a few paintings of landscapes hung on the walls. Rose would laugh to herself every time she looked at them 'He paints landscapes,' Jack had said. It was the only memory Rose allowed herself to relive of her time with Jack. Those blue eyes sketching her were forever in her soul. On her dresser were her precious pictures. It was obvious to the casual observer she had taken great care to display her treasures. Brandon had told her to put them in the sitting room but Rose felt they were private. After all, she couldn't have her nightly chats with Jack while she gazed at her pictures in front of Brandon. Certainly he would take her to the hospital, or even worse, she would have to tell him about Jack. As much as Rose had allowed herself to open up to Brandon, Jack was private and belonged only to her.

A plaid quilt covered her small bed in the center of the room. In the corner sat a large cedar trunk. She had found it in New York while shopping with Allan. There were carvings of small angels all over it. 'Guardian Angels,' she had thought. Instantly it captured her heart and Allan bought it for her. Her two most precious items in the world locked secretly away in her trunk. The dress she wore the night of the sinking and the Heart of the Ocean. The dress was a dreadful mess, completely unsalvageable, but she could not bear to throw it away. So Rose saved the dress along with her precious Heart of the Ocean.

Rose tip toed across the sitting room. She could hear Brandon softly snoring. 'It was safe to talk to Jack,' she thought as she walked silently to her bedroom and softly shut the door. She could not wait to tell him about their good fortunes.

Jack was lying comfortably on the bench counting the stars in the sky it was almost time to meet Rose.

"Jack, Jack," Rose half-whispered, half hissed.

Instantly he was at her side.