"Ashten?"

I heard someone knocking on my door.

"Ash? Are you awake?" Louis' eager voice came through the door.

I rubbed my eyes and said, "Yeah, just a second." I threw on my robe and opened the door.

"Hurry up, sleepy-head!" He said excitedly. "There's so much to do today!"

"Coffee first?" I begged.

"Yes, it's ready, now c'mon! Get dressed and let's go! I have the whole day planned."

I hopped into the shower and scrubbed up extra fast, eager to find out what Louis had planned. I threw on some makeup and decided to let my hair dry naturally. I grabbed a few barrettes and ponytail holders and shoved them into my purse. This was insane, going out without being completely made up. But the prospect of spending another amazing day with Louis overshadowed any concern that I had about looking perfect.

Louis greeted me at the bottom of the stairs and shoved a coffee mug into my hands. "We'll get breakfast on the way," he said.

"Louis," I laughed. "Do you ever slow down?"

"Haven't yet," he said with a smile so wide, it made his eyes crinkle.

I got into his car and buckled. "This is good," I told him after I took a slow sip of coffee.

We drove the few minutes into town and parked on a side street.

"What are we doing?"

He opened my door and held his hand out to me. I took it and he said, "You will soon find out." He locked the car and he pulled me towards a noisy street. There were hundreds of people lined up as far as I could see, up and down the street. Louis spotted an opening and said, "Over here!"

He carefully pushed me into the small space and then stood directly behind me. I could hear the cadence of a marching band in the distance, mingled with the sounds of sirens and the chatter of children.

A parade! It had been so long since I'd been to one! I eagerly looked up the street, waiting for the parade to start. I couldn't see anything yet, so I turned to Louis and gushed, "This is so exciting!"

"Eager for all that candy, I see," he laughed.

I sipped my coffee and watched excitedly as a police SUV led the parade with its lights flashing and the occasional blip of the siren. The marching bands came, playing patriotic favorites, little kids on floats, clowns on roller skates, throwing candy. I remembered parades from when I was very small, but it had been years. I couldn't believe how much I missed this.

I bounced up and down on my toes, trying not to squeal like the child inside of me who had just reappeared out of nowhere.

"Too much coffee?" Louis asked.

"No, it's just...this is so much fun!" He was pressed against my back and I felt his body vibrating with laughter.

When more clowns came along, throwing Bazooka bubble gum, I leaned out too far to try to catch some, and I almost fell over the restraining rope. Louis grabbed my waist so I wouldn't fall. But when I was upright again, he kept his arms around me, except when he reached out in front of me and caught a piece of bubble gum. He handed it to me and I happily chomped away on yet another thing that my parents wouldn't allow me to have. I'd only tasted it a few times when I was with friends.

After the parade, we stopped into a bakery and bought some scones for breakfast. Then we continued back to the car, munching on our goodies.

"Where to next, milady?" Louis asked, putting on a thick British accent. "No, wait! I have just the place!"

I gazed out the window, feeling giddy. I'd already had so much fun with Louis, I couldn't imagine what he had planned. We drove into Detroit, and it wasn't long before we arrived at a huge building called The Henry Ford. There were several different areas listed on the sign: The Henry Ford museum, Greenfield Village, IMAX theater, Ford Rouge Factory Tour, and Benson Ford Research Center. Obviously, I recognized the name Ford, but it wasn't until we stepped inside the museum that I understood that this part of the Henry Ford was actually...well, a museum. Of old cars!

"Louis!" I gasped. "This is awesome!" It was like every Christmas morning all wrapped up into one. "I could stay here all day!"

Louis squeezed my shoulders. "We have a few hours, so take your time."

We started with the early 1900's, the Model A, Model T, and Model N. I inspected every car reverently, taking note of the interior, the paint, the body style.

"These are so cool, Louis! I can't believe you remembered my nerdy car addiction."

"I know everything about you," he said in a creepy tone of voice.

I winked at him. "Stalker!"

We walked through history, inspecting the huge variety of cars that Ford had produced over the years: the 1931 Duesenberg, 1931 Bugatti Type 41, 1956 Continental, 1965 Ford Mustang, The First Mustang Concept Car.

"Now I could see myself driving that!" I said to Louis.

"You can probably afford it," he teased.

We moved on to the collection of Presidential Limos, which was really fascinating. We could literally touch the past; these cars had so many interesting stories. I never appreciated history much until that moment.

Then we came to the most awe-inspiring exhibit, in my opinion - the actual bus on which Rosa Parks staged her unforgettable protest. I had learned about the civil rights movement, of course, but until then, everything I'd learned had seemed like a collection of useless facts. Now I stood there and imagined a hard-working Rosa on her way home from a job - probably a similar job to the ones held by our servants - being asked to give up her seat because there was no more room for the white passengers. The bus driver told her to get up, and she courageously told him, "I don't think I should have to stand up."

Something pierced my conscience. I imagined my beloved Lucinda in the same position, although she was much older than Parks was at the time. It infuriated me to imagine some bigoted white man demanding that a woman, who had rightfully claimed a seat, stand up to give her seat to him, just because she was black.

I stood there for a long time, my mind in turmoil. I gulped uneasily, the fact slowly dawning on me that I treated people the same way just because they didn't have as much money as me. I wasn't sure what to do with that revelation, but it made me uncomfortable, for sure.

"Are you all right?" Louis asked.

I answered with Louis' teasing line about the way I touched his car when I first saw it. "I'm just having a moment," I said in a gravelly voice.

We walked away and moved on to less meaningful exhibits, but I suspected the Rosa Parks bus would stay with me.

We saw the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile, an old McDonald's neon arch with 1950's cars parked nearby. There was a bizarre little futuristic house that was completely round. Finally, we toured a visiting exhibition of the grand staircase of the Titanic. It was largely a replica, of course, but there were several parts of the exhibit that contained actual artifacts from the shipwreck, as well as newspapers from that fateful day, announcing the demise of 1500 people. The exhibit was impressive, to be sure, but I was caught up again in the ability to touch history.

I'd been to many, many art museums with my parents. While they were somewhat fascinating, I'd never placed much value on paint and canvasses that I couldn't touch. The use of real artifacts and real stories of people's triumphs and tragedies moved me in a much more profound way.

Again, the Titanic exhibit captured my imagination. I thought about the utter arrogance involved with the whole disaster - the builders who claimed the Titanic to be unsinkable, those who insisted that the life boats made the decks look too cluttered so many of them were left behind. And I thought about the wealthy politicians and aristocrats, those who considered themselves to be of higher importance than those poverty-stricken people, traveling in steerage with the rats. They had to make sure they would be rescued before the "less important" people traveling below them.

I gulped, feeling a sick lump of guilt. I'd grown up thinking that all of this was just how things worked. The rich were served and the poor were the servants. But at the end of the night, death didn't discrimate between the rich and the poor. The wealthy sunk to the bottom with their fine jewels just as the poor folk descended along with their precious children.

Louis moved close behind me and laced his arms around my waist and leaned over my shoulder. He whispered in my ear, "I'm the king of the world!"

"You're such a dork," I whispered back.

"But we're kind of like Jack and Rose, aren't we?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of my heart racing with the impact of his words. Neither of us had openly admitted our feelings to each other, but they were quite obvious. Louis simply confirmed what we'd been trying to hide.

"Well, you've already given me a blue heart necklace, so yeah, I guess we are."

He gave me a little squeeze and let go. "We should head out, more places to go and things to do!"

It was late afternoon, so we stopped at a small restaurant to get a bite to eat. Afterward, we continued on to another destination, which Louis refused to reveal to me until we arrived.

I was curious when we pulled up outside an establishment called The Grosse Pointe Club, clearly a very exclusive club on the shore of Lake St. Clair. "What are we doing here?" I asked. "Neither of us is dressed for this kind of club."

When he came to my side, opening the door for me, he replied, "We're not here as guests."

I gave him a suspicious look. "Louis Tomlinson! I ate dinner in a barn last night, and that turned out just fine, but if I have to wait tables, I am so out of here!"

He chuckled. "Of course you don't have to wait tables." I let out a sigh of relief. "We're going to clean the bathrooms."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I tell could by that mischievous little gleam in his eye that he was joking once again.

However, when we used the employee entrance, I felt a little wary. What on earth did he have up his sleeve?

It wasn't long before I heard a few shouts. "Louis!" Three people walked over to him. One big guy grabbed him in a bear hug and patted his back.

"Long time, no see," said the incredibly large black man, who was wearing a chef's hat.

"Douglas, it's only been two months," Louis said, snickering.

"Yeah, but it ain't the same without you here, man," Douglas replied.

The other two, an elderly man in a host's uniform, and a pretty young girl wearing a black pants and a white tuxedo blouse, hugged him as well and asked how he was doing.

"Doing all right. Still trying for med school, but I'm hanging out by the pool for the summer. Cleaning it, that is." He turned to me, "These are my old friends, Douglas, Ed, and Sophia. Guys, this is Ashten. I'm working for her family on Long Island."

The three friends suddenly stiffened upon being informed that I wasn't one of "them." It kind of bothered me actually.

"Oh, I'm harmless," I smiled. "I save all my abuse for Louis here."

They all relaxed and Douglas remarked, "I bet you do."

Louis smacked his arm. "Hey, is Sig here today? I wanted to say hi before I take Vivien out."

"Who's Vivien, and where are we taking her?" I asked as we walked toward the elevator.

"You'll find out soon enough."

We arrived on the main level where plenty of the rich and famous were mingling, enjoying a cool break inside, away from the heat of this steamy Independence Day. I felt incredibly uncomfortable, dressed so informally, but I just had to keep reminding myself that no one would recognize me as anyone but Louis' friend.

Until I heard, "Ashten Norwood?! Is that really you?"

Oh, god no. I knew that voice. Why on earth was she here, of all the places in the world?

"Why, hello, Madelyn," I cooed to the Kennedy heiress. I tried to keep my face pleasant while my insides churned in horror. Not only was Madelyn part of a very influential family, she also happened to be close friends with Richard.

Louis glanced our way, looking concerned, but then he went back to chatting with his friend Sig.

"Ashten, dear, is there some sort of costume party? You look absolutely hilarious in that get up. You really captured the Small Town Fourth of July spirit. All you need is fewer teeth."

I glared at her, nostrils flaring. I shouldn't have been so angry; this was how "my people" were, after all - backbiting, gossiping snobs who prided themselves on hurling around veiled insults.

"No, Madelyn, as a matter of fact, I'm here with Louis. You remember him from the pool party, don't you?"

Louis turned around and greeted her with a pleasant hello.

She nodded at him and turned back to me, intentionally speaking in a whisper that was loud enough for him to hear. "Ashten, we were just joking about hooking up with the pool boy. I can't believe you took us seriously. But look at you, taking it to a new extreme - dragging him along on vacation, so you can have your personal servant any time you feel like it." I knew exactly what she meant by servant, and I tried to hide my humiliation.

Louis and Sig were both watching, fairly alarmed at the conversation unfolding before them.

"I wonder how Richard feels about this. Although I can't quite understand why you'd feel the need to have one last fling when you'll get to have unlimited use of Richard's exquisite body for the rest of your life."

That's it, I'm gonna slap her!

Luckily, Louis grabbed me by the arm and pulled me in the other direction, firmly saying, "We should get going. We have plans."

"I'm sure you have some interesting plans, Pool Boy. Just try to keep it out of the gutter."

I yanked away from Louis and threw myself at her, stopping two inches in front of her face. "Listen you selfish, egotistical shrew! It's none of your damn business why I'm here and who I'm with. Louis happens to be a very kind, generous and respectable man, which is more than I can say for any man who winds up with you!"

At that, Louis yanked my arm even harder and literally dragged me toward the administrative offices. We stood in the hallway for a few moments while I tried to catch my breath and calm my nerves. Louis rubbed my back and up and down my arms, helping me to relax.

"All right now?" He asked. I nodded. "Okay, let's go in here and talk to the port captain."

Again, I was confused as hell, but I followed timidly, my heart still beating fast after my interchange with Madelyn.

We walked into the office. We were greeted by a rather short, skinny man wearing an official uniform. His shiny badge read Captain William Parkhurst. Louis strode over to him, holding out his hand. "How are you, Bill?" I was slightly shocked at his casual demeanor with an important officer of the yacht club.

Captain Parkhurst responded in kind, shaking Louis' hand, His voice was deep, lower than I'd expected from his short stature. "Good to see you, Louis! How is New York treating you?"

"New York is fabulous!" Louis responded with enthusiasm. "Speaking of which, this is Ashten Norwood. I work for her family."

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

"Any chance you're related to Berk Norwood?"

My eyes widened, both from fear and surprise. This could be really bad if he knew my father.

"Yes, sir. I'm his daughter."

"I knew your father way back when, at Harvard actually. I suppose you're following in your father's footsteps."

"Yes, sir. I will be starting in the fall."

"Well, tell your old man that Parkhurst said hello. I haven't heard from him in years."

Whew! I was grateful that there wasn't much chance that he could rat me out to my father.

"Can I take Vivien out?" Louis asked.

I looked at him quizzically, but he didn't answer my unspoken question. The captain handed him a key and instructed, "Just have her in by midnight, as always."

Louis answered, "Will do, sir," as he pulled me out the door. We went to his car and he opened the trunk, retrieving a small ice chest.

I couldn't stand it. "Louis, what is going on? Who is Vivien?!"

He didn't say anything, but he led me like a puppy out to the docks. He walked with purpose towards a stately sailboat near the end. He set the ice chest down and used the key to unlock the housing that held the dock line. He started to loosen the line, unwrapping it from around the cleat.

"Louis," I hissed nervously. "What are you doing? This isn't your boat!" I thought for a moment. "Or is it?"

He stood up and laughed. "No, this is The Lady of the Lake, otherwise known as Vivien. She belongs to the club."

"Ohhh, Vivien is the name of the boat. I was imagining us taking some old lady named Vivien out to lunch and having to watch her gum her food to death."

He threw his head back, laughing. "Let me help you aboard." He laid a dock board and I easily walked across. He took the dock line and threw it to me, and then he hopped on board as well. He went to the steering wheel and fired up the motor so he could power us out of the marina.

"Louis Tomlinson, how the hell do you know how to sail?!" I laughed, sitting down near him.

"Comes with the territory. Working at a yacht club comes with privileges. People like me here. I got permission and a friend taught me how to sail."

I just sat back and watched as he maneuvered us out of the marina. When we were clear, he went to work on raising the sails. He moved around the boat with expert precision, making it look like he was hardly working. However, he soon took off his t-shirt, sweating in the late-day sun.

I tried to look away, but I was captivated by his skin, the memory of that sexy picture in his album, and even by the tattoos. They were starting to grow on me, actually.

Once he seemed satisfied that we were maintaining a steady course to who-knows-where, he came and sat down next to me. The smell of his sweat reached my nose and I started to feel a little hot myself.

He opened the ice chest and produced a chilled bottle of Perrier. "I thought you might be getting homesick," he teased, handing me the bottle. He opened another one for himself.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, allowing the breeze to cool him. "We could have taken one of the yachts, but I love sailing. There's satisfaction in directing my own course, setting the sails just right so I get where I want to go."

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"Just north," he shrugged. "Middle of Lake St. Clair, for some peace and quiet."

"Sounds good," I said, closing my eyes, too.

I felt him nudge my arm. "Thanks for defending me against your friend."

"Bitch," I whispered.

"Your speech is becoming more colorful, Ms. Norwood. I hope I haven't been a bad influence on you."

"Of course you have," I said, nudging him back. But I was still nervous about having run into Madelyn. "What if she tells Richard?"

"Maybe you want her to tell Richard."

"Huh. Maybe I do."

After lying next to each other for a long time, enjoying the sounds of the wind and the waves, Louis asked quietly. "Would you like anything to eat?" He pulled out a small container of fruit chunks and some kind of lemony dip.

I reached in, grabbed a strawberry and dipped it. When I popped it into my mouth, I was delighted by the intense lemon flavor. "Oh, my gosh, this is delicious!"

"Thanks!" He answered. "It's my own secret recipe."

"You made this? Louis, you've been holding out on me. Will you be my new cook?" I laughed.

"I've already got a job, thanks."

"Really, though, how do you do it? Sports and jobs, working your way through college while earning straight A's. Singer, songwriter, model-" He grimaced. "You know how to sail, you cook and you're a fantastic dancer. and you even performed a bit of magic on the flight, helping me not to puke my guts out, Oh, and don't forget driving lessons!"

He laughed shyly at my gushing compliments.

"Louis Tomlinson, is there anything you can't do?"

He sat up, a serious look taking over his face. He stared out at the rippling water. "I can't get into Harvard," he said. Then he looked down at his hands, his voice coming out softly. "And I can't have you."

I was done holding back. I simply whispered, "Lou," turning his face gently toward mine. I leaned in close and pressed my lips against his. I could tell he wasn't expecting it, but it didn't stop him from kissing me back, tenderly but firmly, moving his lips perfectly with mine. He slid his hand into my hair and held me close to him. It was undeniably the best kiss I'd ever had.

I reluctantly pulled away. "I don't know if it was right for me to do that, but I've wanted to kiss you for a long time."

He responded, running his fingers along my cheekbone, "I have a confession to make. When I said I wasn't going to get in Richard's way, I lied. I'm going to do everything I possibly can to get him out of the way. He doesn't deserve you, and I know you don't love him."

I nodded slightly. "I know. I'm planning to break it off, but it's complicated. I have to figure all of this out. And I really don't want to hurt you."

He whispered, smirking, "Let me give you something to think about then." He connected our lips once again. I couldn't get used to the insanely thrilling feeling of kissing him. He pushed a little more firmly against my mouth and ran his tongue lightly over my lips. I responded, opening slightly to let him deepen the kiss. The result was a fantastic show of fireworks, although the 4th of July show hadn't begun, and it felt like we were a thousand miles away from civilization.

I felt that same little zing in my chest that I'd felt at the Underground. "Wow," I breathed.

"What?"

"That little jolt of electricity. Did you feel it?" I felt a little stupid after saying that.

"Definitely. It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" He asked, his eyes alive with happiness.

"I've never felt anything like it," I said, feeling like a silly school girl.

He looked confused. "I certainly don't want to talk about him right now, but you never felt that when he kissed you?"

"No. Is that bad?"

He cradled my cheek and pressed his forehead against mine. "Not bad. I just think it means you never really loved him."

"Well, I did feel something like that once before," I said, feeling a little sheepish.

"When?"

"When I was watching you sing at The Underground."

He responded by kissing me me again, this time a little more urgently, but it wasn't overbearing. He slipped both arms around me, holding me firmly against him. It was thrilling and wonderful. I put my arms around him, but I stopped suddenly when I remembered he'd taken off his shirt. It startled me to feel his bare skin, but I let go of my inhibition and ran my hands slowly up and down his back. His response was a slight moan from the back of his throat, and it sent another electrical pulse through my body.

"Let's go back and watch the fireworks, yeah?" he finally said, purposely putting on his British accent.

"Can we watch them from the boat?" I asked hopefully.

"That's the plan."

We sailed back into Grosse Pointe just in time to see the beginning of the fireworks show. Apparently, many others had the same plans as we did; several sailboats were bobbing up and down nearby.

Louis dropped the anchor, put his shirt back on, and sat next to me. I snuggled in close to him and he wrapped his arm around me as we watched the fireworks display. I wished time would stop and we could stay suspended in this moment forever.

* * * * *

YEAH! They kissed! :D

I don't know much sailing terminology, so I hope I didn't fudge that part too badly.

Thanks for all your wonderful encouraging comments about getting more reads. You are literally THE BEST readers ever!

Finally, I don't know about you, but I'm a sucker for a hot guy in a plain white t-shirt!