I woke up with a pounding headache. I wasn't sure if it was the stress from my job or that horrible band that was playing at 1160 Bar and Lounge last night. My only guess was Justin went there scoping out new talent. Well I must have chosen the wrong time to go because they were not good at all. The woman before that rock band had an amazing voice, but they were horrid.

            I sat in the back booth, in the exact location that Lexie told me he would sit in. I waited for a couple hours and he didn't show. He hasn't been seen in a couple days. He doesn't hide that well. I was certain that he would pop up somewhere. I had people watching for him like a hawk. Most of his camp was sure he was in NYC but that of all places was no easy place to hide. There are paparazzi everywhere in NYC, there would have been at least one photo of him there... somewhere.

            I dug through the bottom of my purse for some Tylenol but I couldn't seem to find anything. The lights down the hallway to my office are brighter than they have ever been or maybe this headache was worse than I thought.

            I dreaded the idea of dealing with this Rob/Lexie issue. Only my best friend would get involved with one of my clients and make a mess out of it. I'm pretty certain she is the one that bitches I spend too much time in the office... now I can blame it on her.

"Emily, Jessica Biel is sitting in your office." Tracey says to me as I walk past her desk.

"Great. Thanks."

            I walk in my office and see her sitting in my chair. "Excuse me, the last time I check that was my chair, at my desk, in my office. Please remove yourself from it."

"Last time I check, I'm sure I paid for it, being as I'm part of this agency."

"Last time I check you were not my client."

She rolls her eyes and begins rambling about the statement that was made yesterday. "How dare you make a jab at me and my credibility in this business? I have never been so..."

 I interrupt her "You have never been what? You have never had the publicity that you do now that you have dated and separated from one of the biggest celebrities in the world? What you have never had the truth thrown in your face? What's the problem, do you expect everyone to bow down to you?"

"You made that statement out to be as if I was the bad guy in this breakup."

"Truth hurts doesn't it?"

"You have no idea what our relationship was like."

"Well typically when someone is trying to use me as a staple in a career, I leave them in the dust as well." She just glared at me, knowing that I knew enough to bury her into the ground. "What you don't have anything to say now? You should remember that I have friends in this industry from all angles. I know that you have used my client to get photos of you taken. I know that you were the biggest leak in all the troubles you have had in your relationship. I know more than you probably know."

"I don't know where you get your information but you are wrong."

"So, Justin didn't kick your ass to the curb? He didn't tell you that he wanted to separate a year ago?"

"Ugh. We have had our problems but I loved him..."

"Loved. Used. Something right?"

"I came in here to tell you that I will be doing that interview and I will be saying everything I want."

"That's fine." I said, as she looked stunned. "You can choose your own grave. Because I will bury your career."

"I have been acting a long time. Justin is not the reason I book my jobs."

I just smile and continue to nod my head, "I have seen your roster, I know that since you left the TV show, you haven't really gotten any respectable jobs. And you never had a picture in a magazine until you started dating Justin. You saw the press that he gave you. You saw the perks of dating him would give you... I guess I feel bad for Justin, you have been using him for a long time, I guess you are a good actress... just not on camera." I got up from my desk and said, "The door is right there and I would like you to shut it as you leave my office."

            She gets up mumbles something that I could care less about and slams my office door, very mature of her. This is not how I envision my Saturday morning starting off. But I guess now it was time to deal with my Rob/Lexie issue.

            Emails seem to get more and more every time I log in. It was beginning to be overwhelming considering I couldn't really hand off anything because the dimwits in the office. They deal with clients that are not nearly as successful as my clients. I'd seriously behead someone if they screwed up one of my client's promotion. There is an email from Lexie asking me to have dinner with her and Rob tonight around six. I send a quick email back that simply says, I would love to but I already have dinner plans. I didn't want to have dinner with my client that is going to be my best friend's baby daddy.

            I should have known that was not the best choice of words to send her, because moments later she is calling my office.

"You have a date tonight? I had no idea you were seeing someone."

"Not a date, just dinner."

"With who, a client?"

"No. Just someone. Not a big deal."

"Emily Marie Clarkson..."

"Wow, you busted out the entire name... it's just dinner with that gentleman from the car accident. I promised I would bring him dinner tonight."

"Have you been spending a lot of time with him?"

"No, some time. I work too much remember... because of you."

"So you like this guy?"

"Lex, he doesn't have a clue who he is, what he likes, hell he doesn't know his own name. I'm the one that found him I can't just abandon him before his family claims him."

"Do they have any leads?"

"There have been people that say they are missing a family member but all the leads end up coming up short."

"Well have fun with your mystery guy. Maybe next week we can get together for dinner."

            Sure, yeah maybe next week I would love to spend with your baby's daddy, who just happens to be one of my clients. Good times.

            I got out of the office around four and headed home to change into some casual clothes and to make him dinner. I promise I would make him something to eat instead of buying fast food again. So I made him my famous lasagna. It was the same way my mother would make it growing up. Man I miss her cooking. It was times like these in my life when I wish she was still here and could share her wisdom with me.

            I threw on some jeans and a tank and headed to the hospital. It was becoming part of my daily routine. I normally show up in my office attire because it's a waste of time to drive all the way to one side of town for my apartment then drive back across town for the hospital.

            Sitting in the same spot he was yesterday there he is in the bed. But today he is wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt that I had brought him. As crazy and weird as it was, he looked sexy. Bruises and all he looks sexy.

            I brought enough food for us and the nurses, I figure they have put up with me enough in the last couple days, they deserved it. I handed what was left to the nurse in the room and she thanked me and left. I turned around to watch my hands and come back and he says, "Turn around."

"No. You are not looking at my ass mister."

"I'm serious, turn around." He was being serious and doing that circle movement with his hands. He is concentrating on that pocket, the logo that makes these jeans significantly different from every other pair on the market.

"Ok stop looking at my ass."

"You have a nice ass, I think I have always been an ass man but I was looking at the logo. It looks so familiar."

"They are actually a brand of jeans from one of my clients."

"They just give them to you." He seemed surprised by that.

"Oh yea, he normally sends me a box every season." I finish serving the food to him and I take a seat in that same very uncomfortable chair.

"Oh. What's the brand?"

"William Rast."

            He shakes his head. He knows he should know that name for some reason. The look of frustration runs across his face. "Why can't I remember anything? Why don't I know my own name? Why hasn't my family come to find me? Do I even have a family?"

I take his hand into mine, "I'm sorry. I wish I had some answers for you. I really do. Then you wouldn't have to put up with me day after day."

"Please don't take offense to that. I enjoy spending all this time with you. I just would like to know my name, my history, my job, anything."

"I don't know how you are deal with this every day. I commend you on that."

He seems to be thinking but not talking then he blurts out, "When I get out of here, and hopefully I know by then who I am, I want to take you out to dinner... I want to take a walk on the beach with you... anything to pay you back for all you have done for me."

            I never thought about what I would do once his family came for him. What would happen after he got his memory back? Those are questions I never really thought about the outcome to.