Ever since I was little, I wanted to be married with a family.  A wife, 2-5 kids, a house, white picket fence, the whole nine.  Just like my momma had it.  She always told me that my father wanted to do all those nice things a husband's supposed to do but he never had the follow through.  That's why we (she and I) thank GOD for Paul.  My dad gave my mom and I the life she deserved, and I'd always wanted that for myself.  I always wanted, hell almost needed to give whatever woman meant for me the same awesome treatment my parents gave one another.  I thought I was on my way to having exactly that with Britney.

Britney

It was perfect.  At least I thought so.  She was everything I thought I wanted. She was bright, smart, funny, and totally independent of anything and anybody.  She was truly one of a kind.  I gave her and our relationship everything I had and we bought that perfect, southern style home complete with white picket fence.  Then she cheated.  She cheated in our perfect house with that damned picket fence and southern decor with one of my closest friends.  I'm over it now seeing as though that was at least seven years ago and I've moved on at least twice since then.  But, I never got rid of that house, or the way she decorated it.  I'd moved out, got a New York penthouse, a funky beach house and another home in the Hills of Hollywood.  I'd entertain between the three and of course at Trace's place.  Still, it was time for a change and I needed and wanted to re-do everything in that house and the penthouse.  

Why do all of my girlfriends cheat on me?  

Cameron was great, always ready and willing to do, or try to do anything and everything I wanted.  Until I started touring constantly and we spent time apart, maybe too much time apart.  I caught her with one of my former roadies, making out naked on my tour bus with no signs of slowing down.  I mean really, a damn roadie?!  GTFOH!   I would say that we are still friends, but I'd be lying.  

Then came Jessica.   

Jess was cool, smart and sophisticated.  I let her into my private world like a whirlwind and she took her place naturally beside me.  I think that's why I loved her so much.  She was so unaffected by this Hollywood BS; much much more interested in world politics and random facts about dignitaries, she was just real.  About nine, ten months into the relationship, she convinced me to let her make my place more homey, and I let her.  White living spaces usually gives me the creeps but because it was her, I lived with it.  It was in that very living room that she committed her infidelity.  On my baby grand, with her punk ass ex-boyfriend, slobbing her down with reckless abandon.  I literally threw up from the sight of them together.  This was the last straw (obviously) and I put her and her stank ass ex out of my spot.

That was six weeks ago and I want to rid my place of every memory of her.  It's bad enough  I can't get her out of my brain, I don't need the reminders.  Which is why I have Rachel looking for interior decorators within a fifty mile radius.

"Any luck yet Rach?"  I ask walking downstairs to the kitchen where she's situated with her laptop on the dinner table, looking online.

"Nothing yet J.  Honestly, why are you looking for someone so soon?  You know you'll probably just go back to Jess any day now.  You've taken her back before, you're just going to do it again."

I used to think she had an ounce of faith left in me, now I'm not so sure.

"Rachel, how can you say that?  She was sexing him on my damn piano.  There is no going back to that.  You know the saddest part?  I really thought she would have been Mrs. Timberlake."  Saying that out loud actually brought tears to my eyes.  I become such a pussy talking about women who hurt me.

"Justin, you know I wasn't a very big fan of hers but I will say that I thought so too.  She fit into your lifestyle really well but apparently she wasn't being honest with herself or you and you deserve better than someone who doesn't know what they want with their life.  One minute it's you, the next it's piano boy.  I know this is hard to hear but if you're not going back to her, you need to move on.  Walking around feeling sorry for yourself won't help anything, especially not me." 

"I know, this is why I'm going out tonight.  I don't want to stay out long, I just need a little liquid encouragement.  I'm meeting Trace at the club, I'm out."

An hour later...

The club is in full effect tonight.  There is liquor flowing, baseline bumping and women from wall to wall.  I'm glad that Trace thought of coming here.  I've never been to this spot before but the honeys in here are out of this world sexy.  There's this one chick with piercing eyes and a nice ass that is itching for a partner on the dance floor.  I usually shy away from the public in clubs because the crowds can get a bit rambunctious but not tonight.  

It's like her body's calling me.

The vixen in the deep purple, backless dress that ends right below her plump ass is swaying her tiny hips back and forth to the beat and I'm in a trance.  She's been turning away invitations to dance all evening and for that, I'm grateful.  Anything blocking me from her body would be a sin and a shame.  I wait for the song she's currently enjoying to end to make my move.  That new joint by Ester Dean is playing now and I figure this is as good a time as any.  I excuse myself from the VIP table Trace, some random blonde and I were sharing and make my way to the floor.  Lurking through the crowd, I make my way to her but right before I can grab her attention, another equally attractive girl comes to dance with her.  

Damn!

I was about to walk off until I noticed that her friend (I can only assume) is swooped up by a guy and she's off in another world, leaving the vixen alone, swaying to the beat again.  I waste no time getting back to her.  Just as I'm about to lightly grab her by the waist, she whips around, gives me a full smile and grinds into me.  This is going to be easier than I thought.  Being a celebrity does have it's perks.  

"I saw you coming from upstairs and told my friend to get lost.  You owe her a thank you, don't you think?"  She says loudly in my ear.  For some reason, it was seductive as hell.  She didn't give me time to answer.  She turned around, offering that beautiful ass of hers to me and I happily accepted.

We moved together better than anyone I've danced with in a long time.  Her natural sway went well with my body and rhythm and the way we were grinding and gyrating on each other, you'd think we were about to have full blown sex.  We danced together for about another hour or so before she turned to me saying she had to go.

"Are you sure you have to go?  We were just getting to know each other."  I really didn't want her to leave yet.

"We've barely said two words to each other.  What's your name?"

"You're kidding right?"

"You look familiar but I'm not sure from where.  Do we know each other from somewhere?"

"Are you serious?"  Damn, I guess I can throw that celebrity thing out the friggin window.  But seriously, who doesn't know who I am?  I'm not being conceited, I'm just kinda surprised.

"I am.  I swear you look so familiar but I really don't know where from.  I'm sorry if I offended you but I really have to go."  She kisses me on the cheek and slips something in my back pocket before turning around and sauntering off with her friend.  I take what feels like a business card out of my pocket to read.

'Definitive Design'  Interior Design firm LLC.  President/CEO Miranda James.  Seems like every time I go looking for something, I find it.

No truer words have ever been spoken.