"You've got an in, Brewer. And we'll be using it to our advantage." Eric smiles wickedly and I swallow hard.    

I really, really don't want to do this.    

When I took this job, I had what I thought was a fool-proof plan. I'd stick it out here for a couple years, fly under the radar, get some experience under my belt and move on to a real job.    

I didn't want any special assignments. I didn't need my name tacked onto some earth shattering story. All I needed to do was build up a good portfolio, and get the hell out of here.    

But, it seems the powers that be have other plans for me.    

All because of a couple fucking pictures.    

It's almost comical when you think about it. The thing I've done to various celebrities is now being done to me and I gotta admit... it's no fucking picnic. Granted, I've never blackmailed anybody but that's neither here nor there.    

The bottom line is, somebody caught my little encounter with Mr. Timberlake on film and now, they're using it against me. They don't have much to back up the story they're creating, but they've got enough to make it believable.    

See... if Timberlake had just asked if I was alright and gone on his way, there wouldn't be a problem. But oh no... he had to get all good samaritan and stick his nose in where it didn't belong. And to top it all off, he just had to rub the back of my head and check out the bump.    

I know it was simply an innocent, concerned gesture, but that picture along with the headline of, "Justin's new girl?", puts a whole different spin on the entire situation.    

So, Eric has given me an ultimatum.    

I can weasel my way into this strangers life and dig up some dirt on him, or I can sit back and watch my co-workers offer me up to the media on a silver platter.    

I'm not exactly sure what kind of story they're cooking up, but I know it'll play up the one semi-interesting photo they have, and twist it into something sick.    

From day one, my morals have had a big fucking problem with this job, but now I'm seeing it all in a whole new light and honestly, the shit I do for a living shouldn't even be legal.    

They always say a pictures worth a thousand words, and while that may be true... I think it's what you choose to do with those words that has the impact.     

Everyone knows these gossip magazines exaggerate the facts, but I've never seen one willing to completely fabricate something like this.    

So, I took the only real option I had and I've agreed to make an attempt at breaking into Mr. Timberlake's inner circle.    

I know it's wrong and I sure as hell don't want to do it, but it's better than the alternative.    

And of course, Eric refused to tell me who got those shots outside the restaurant, but I've got a pretty good feeling I know exactly who it was.    

Molly Taylor is hands down, the best photographer the magazine has. She somehow manages to cover every single club opening, movie premiere, award show, you name it and she's there. And she always, always gets her money shot.    

She's made an insane amount of connections and half the time, she knows where the rich and famous will be, hours before they even arrive.     

She's great at what she does, there's no denying that. But, she hasn't got the least bit of remorse for any of the things she's done. Some of her pictures have literally ruined lives and careers, and she just doesn't give a shit.    

I can't say she's totally awful, but she's no saint either.    

Molly's the type of person who can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. If you so much as look at her the wrong way, she'll fuck your world up, and won't even think twice about it.    

And unfortunately, I'm almost certain she's the one who caught those shots of me with Timberlake.     

I haven't done a damn thing to the girl so I don't know what the deal is. I've had maybe one conversation with her, in the six months I've been with the magazine. So that narrows it down to one of two things, either she just has it out for me for reasons unknown or, Eric's desperate for a big story.    

Either way, I'm right in the middle of it and it fucking blows.

***************    

"I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to find. The whole world knows he's dating that Biel chick. He isn't recording. What am I supposed to do, get pictures of him in the fucking shower?"    

Megan giggles and nods. "Hey... that could lead to a job at playgirl."    

"Gross." I mutter and roll my eyes.    

Megan opens her mouth to respond, but before she can utter a single word, a tall, insanely pretty blonde enters my cubicle, folds her arms over her chest and leans against the doorway casually, a sadistic smirk planted on her face.    

"So Brewer... I hear you landed yourself an exclusive."    

"Oh... yeah... guess so." I shrug dumbly.    

As much as I hate to admit it, the girl is intimidating.    

She's got these really intense dark blue eyes that tear right into you. She's a good 5'6 or so but with the ridiculous heels she wears, she has to be atleast six feet tall. She always looks so put together too. There's never a single wrinkle in her pristine skirts and blouses. Then throw in the fact that she's drop dead gorgeous. It's sickening.    

Next to her, Megan and I look like a couple of bums off the street.    

"Well, congratulations." She smiles, but it's so obviously forced. "It's not everyday Eric doles out special assignments to the rookies. You must be pretty damn good at something." She smirks again and gives me a short nod.    

Sure... that sounds perfectly innocent, but I know exactly what she's implying. If she really was the one who got those pictures of me with the pop-star, I'm beginning to see what could possibly be behind the whole thing.    

But... she hasn't got a single reason to view me as her competition.    

"Anyway... good luck. You'll be needing it." She barely even glances at Megan before turning and strutting off down the hallway.    

"Ok... could she be a bigger bitch?" Megan snorts. "She's so damn jealous."    

"Of what?" I laugh and roll my eyes. "She's the fucking Leibovitz of this magazine and she's jealous of me because I have to stalk some pretty boy? Please."    

"It's not the assignment Ab. It's the shit that comes with it." She says simply. "Let's say you get some really good stuff and I get an amazing story out of it. We both get the money, and the notoriety and what's she got? Zilch. She won't be queen of the world anymore and it's driving her fucking crazy already. She's totally jealous."    

"Right." I nod and roll my eyes as Megan keeps rambling.        

I will admit... there's one semi-decent aspect of this project.    

By some grace of God, they've teamed me up with Megan yet again, so anything I turn up, gets sent straight to her. She'll dig around for the story and all I gotta do is keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary and take some pictures.    

Shouldn't be too hard, right?

***************    

"I don't want to ruin the guys life or anything." I mumble and push my carrots around with my fork. "I just... I don't know what they want."    

"Eric doesn't even know what he wants." Megan says simply and shrugs. "That's the point... you're job is to look Abby."

"I know but... I mean, ok yes... I met the guy, in this really weird, totally me way... but that doesn't mean anything. Meeting someone once, doesn't mean we're gonna be best buddies and braid each other's hair... if I go hunt him down, I'll look like I'm fucking nuts."    

"Now Abby... you know that's not true." Eric grins as he appears virtually out of nowhere and slides into our booth, next to Megan. "Ever think maybe he's been looking for you?"    

"Number one... where the hell did you come from, number two... is this table fucking bugged or something?"    

Eric rolls his eyes and completely ignores her. "I've had somebody on him for awhile now... and they've got it on good authority that he's been looking for 'tree girl', now... one can only assume, that's you."    

"Oh, I've gained a nickname... lovely." I groan loudly as Eric chuckles. "Why are you going after him? He isn't doing anything, he's not all that interesting, and from what I saw... he's actually a nice guy."    

"Ya see Brewer... that's your problem. You're way too worried about feelings and reputations and bullshit. This isn't about only sticking it to the assholes. It's about money, plain and simple. And, he sells covers. It doesn't matter if it's a story about him washing his damn car... it'll sell. You're looking into it too much. Shut off the sensitivity chip and just do your fucking job."    

"Right... you're right." I nod as a satisfied smile appears on his face.    

He may be a prick, but the guy knows what he's talking about.     

While I may still have reservations about this job and the things it requires me to do, it's still my job. I still have to listen to my superiors. I still have to earn my paycheck.    

My opinions, emotional or not, don't matter. The work force doesn't give a shit how you feel.     

So, like Eric said... I need to turn off the sensitivity chip, and just do my fucking job.    

Eric and Megan are in the middle of a fairly heated discussion about media intrusion, when I look around, bored to tears with the whole thing.     

I love Megan, but I swear... she eggs him on. Eric is famous for his tirades, defending people like ourselves and once he gets started, you're in for a long ass night. She knows this, yet she always insists on getting into these debates with him.    

As the door to the diner opens, my eyes focus on the two figures entering slowly. I keep my gaze settled on the two of them and reach across the table to get Megan's attention. I completely miss her hand and bump the full glass of chocolate milkshake, splattering it all over the table, straight into Eric's lap.    

"God damnit Abby!" I wince as he leaps out of his seat, yelling and cursing at me the whole time.    

Just as the taller of the two men turns his head in our direction, I look down quickly and say a silent prayer that he either doesn't see me, or doesn't recognize me.  

But, as usual... no such luck.     

His eyes lock with mine and a small smile creeps onto his face. He says something to his friend before strolling over to our table. I bite my lip as Megan laughs loudly at Eric, covered in milkshake from the waist down.    

"Hey... Abby, right?" He smiles as he stops in front of our table and I nod, unable to form one coherent damn thought. "So, how's the head?"        

Megan nearly chokes on her drink and stares at him, wide eyed. Now is so not the time for her dirty mind to go to work.    

Luckily, Justin catches himself and rephrases his previous statement.    

"I mean uhh... you ever get to the doctor or anything?"    

"Yeah... yeah I did."    

Not really, but... I guess now's as good a time as any to start lying to him.   

"They didn't find anything."        

Megan snorts again and I can't help but roll my eyes. Her ability to find a joke in everything is actually kind of a pain in the ass at the moment.    

"Good." He nods. "So uhh... looks like y'all got some issues, so I'll just... I'm gonna go. Glad you're alright though."

"Yeah, thanks." I smile awkwardly.    

"Hey man... you don't have to leave. We're gonna hang out for awhile... as soon as we get this cleaned up, you guys are more than welcome to join us."    

"Oh... thanks, but umm..."    

"I'm Abby's brother... Eric." He smiles. "Seriously man... I heard the story about the tree, might be kind of interesting to hear the other side. You guys sit and order... I'll be back." Eric nods before heading for the bathroom and I sink down into my seat as Justin beckons his friend over before sliding in next to me.    

"This is Trace." He says as the shorter man gives me an odd look. "Trace this is Abby, and..." He trails off, quickly glancing at Megan.    

"Megan." She smiles politely and shakes both their hands.     

Eric returns a few minutes later and before I can stop it, Justin is answering every question Eric has about the other day, and of course... everyone but me seems to find the entire thing hilarious.     

I know this is exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, but I was hoping I'd be a little more prepared. He wasn't supposed to just show up out of nowhere. I was supposed to hunt him down. I had this whole thing worked out in my head, and now it's spinning completely out of control.     

But, there's one thing I can't quite figure out.    

Why in the hell is Justin Timberlake at some crummy, little hole in the wall diner? And... isn't it a bit odd that I happened to be at said diner when he showed up?    

Maybe Eric isn't as full of shit as I originally thought.