Chapter 2

The next day - 9:30 a.m.

Justin entered the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. "Finally you're up. I made..." Terri turned, instantly freezing when she focused in on him. The boxers he wore clung nicely to his figure and his hair was pointed in all different directions as if he just had woken up. He also held a toothbrush in his mouth and his eye lids hung low indicating he was tired. "Wow." she forcefully peeled her eyes off him. "Um, ahem. I made breakfast."

He lifted one of the lids to the pots, gazing in on a pot of grits. "Since when did you start making grits?" she immediately felt her heart skip. "Grits are for black people. Do it look like I eat grits?" he spoke with attitude.

"Um...I..." she gulped down. "I thought you said you were up for new things. I didn't..." a smirk slowly formed across his lips.

"Ahaha. I'm just kidding. I love grits." she sighed of relief. "Oh and about that black comment...you know that's a bunch of bullshit." he pulled the door open, grabbing a bottle of orange juice.

"So you don't think black people are the main ones who eat grits?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"How should I know? I do know that a black person introduced me to grits though." he took a seat at the bar.

"Who? Aaliyah?" he slowly lifted his head to gaze at her.

"Yeah. It was her." she could tell by the look on his face that he hated to talk about her. It would only make him emotional. "Any way, where's the food. I'm hungry."

"All right, relax." after fixing his food, she slid his plate in front of him. "There. Happy now?"

"I'll be even happier if you add a glass of orange juice to this." he stuffed a portion of grits in his mouth. "Mmm. This is pretty good. Almost as good as..." he trailed off.

"Can I just ask this?" she took a seat beside him. "You and Aaliyah...did you guys have any issues with the media about your interracial relationship?"

"Well doesn't everybody? Whether it was the media...your friends and family. You always have somebody aggravating you because you chose to date someone not of your color. And if you asked me, I don't see what's the big deal. Everybody is alike in some way."

"I agree." she hesitantly reached out, placing her palm on the back of his neck. "I can tell lately you've been a little stressed out." she skimmed his neck soothingly. "You and I know what you need...to relax you." she stood behind him, kneading her hands in his shoulders. He shut his eyes, enjoying all of her compassion.

"Damn. Who taught you how to do this? This feels..." he fluttered his eyes open, slowly coming to reality. What the hell was he doing? He knew what was the next step and if he didn't stop any of it, he would've done something he would regret. "Wait. Wait, wait." he stood up, turning to face her. "I know what you're trying to do and you know what? It's not gonna work."

"But Jus..."

"Stop it." he demanded. "Please." he brushed pass her, unsuspectingly feeling a hand grab him.

"Wait." he turned, immediately meeting up with a pair of lips. Before he could blink, she had already broken away. "Oh my god." she covered her mouth in shock. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." he shook his head.

"I guess now we're even." she flashed him a confused look. "Excuse me." he departed the kitchen, quickly heading towards the stair way that seemed like miles away. "I need to get a fucking elevator." he mumbled.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What?" he turned her direction.

"What do you mean we're even? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Haha." he laughed pathetically. "You don't think I know what this is all about? YESTERDAY!!" he shouted. "Since then, you couldn't stop looking at me. And you know what? I'm sorry I did it. I regret everything. I just wish I wasn't so..." he caught himself before he had blurted the word out. "Just forget it. Leave me alone. I don't need to be bothered with you right now." she quickly swung her hand, slapping him across the face.

"Bastard. Yeah, I may work for you but that doesn't mean you can talk to me any way." he stood there with the most meanest look on his face while rubbing his throbbing cheek.

"If you ever...hit me again..."

"What? You're gonna fire me? Well go right ahead. I don't fucking care!" she ambled the opposite direction. "You turned out to be everything I thought you would be. And for years I thought you were different but I was wrong. I guess I was blinded by the money and your...your irresistible looks. Ahaha oh my god." she laughed insanely. "I can't believe..." he grabbed her arm, yanking her towards him.

"Will you just...shut up? For once. Just... shut that big fat mouth of yours."

"And why should I?" she rested her hand on her hip. "Maybe you would think twice if I offered to suck your dick." she trailed her hand down his chest, instantly grabbing his member. "Poor Justin." she shook her head sadly. "Still walking around with a hard on. All because of his faithful attitude towards some dead girlfriend of his."

He grabbed her hand, gripping it firmly. "It's one thing to bad mouth me and it's another to talk about my deceased girlfriend. Now I won't fire you for that...dirty mouth of yours." he gripped her hand tighter, watching her winch in pain. "But I will fire you for talking about her like that. You know shit about her. You know shit about me."

"You're hurting me." he released her hand, gradually brushing pass her. "You're not gonna fire me?"

"Take the rest of the day off. If I see your face when I get back, I might end up doing just that." she watched as he ambled up the long curved stairs that led to the second floor.

Later on

Beyonce stood in the sound box singing into the microphone. "I got to have ya' baby. I wanna be your babyyyy. If you don't know meee. I can show you how it's gonna beeee." Justin entered the studio, immediately gazing at a familiar woman standing in the soundbox.

"Am I late?" the producer looked over his shoulder to gaze at him.

"No. She's just recording her verse." he nodded, sitting his car keys on the desk.

"Damn. Is it me or is it just...hot in here?" he fanned himself. "Fuck. Dude, you wouldn't believe what I went through with my maid just minutes ago before I got here. I swear, I never saw this side of her and I was just...tempted to let her go. But..." he took a seat beside him. "People are entitled to their own opinions."

"What happened? She finally spoke up about your spoiled ass?"

"Haha. Fuck you." he looked away, gazing at Beyonce who was dancing to the music. "Haha, look at her. She's so goofy. Any way..." he stood up. "I'm gonna start on my verse." he yanked the door to the sound box open. "Finished, baby girl? Why don't you...sit down and let me show you how it's supposed to be done." she rolled her eyes.

"Sure, curly." she spoke teasingly. "I am hun-gryyyy." she took a seat, resting her back against the chair. "Oh my god. I'm starving."

"We heard you the first time." Justin spoke into the microphone.

"Fuck..." she paused, sticking up her middle finger. "Boy, you don't wanna mess with me while I'm hungry." she warned in a playful tone.
_________

"If you want it, girl. Just let me knowww. Oh ohhhhhh. Ohhh ohhhhhh."

"Woo! That's what I'm talkin' about." she bopped her head to the music. "'Cause I knowww...hmm hmmm." she song along.

"Great! That's a wrap right there." the producer announced.

"Now I'm hungry." Justin spoke, stepping out of the sound box. "Wanna join me for lunch? Wait. You know what? You ARE gonna join me for lunch. No ifs ands or buts about it. 'Cmon." she flashed him a surprised look.

"Well excuse me, curly sue."

"Hey." he followed her out of the studio. "I'm not curly sue anymore. Do it look like I have curls to you?" he asked, pointing to his head.

"Yep." she joked, ambling towards her car. "Where are we going?"

"Just follow me." as soon as he hopped in his car, he pulled out of the lot and headed out on the road.

Thirty minutes later (5:02 p.m.) - Larry's Diner

"Mmm. This has got to be the best baked potatoe I have ever had." Justin spoke, sprinkling a bit salt on it.

"Well I guess that will all change after you taste mines." his eyebrows raised at her.

"So you're tellin' me yours is better?" she nodded.

"That's right." she stuffed a portion of rice and beans in her mouth.

"Well..." his phone interrupted him. "Fuck! Excuse my language." she smirked, putting her focus back on her food. "Hello? Ma? Ma, please. Just...calm down, okay?" he sat back, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth with. "I know. And I'm sorry. I forgot." Beyonce sat there holding in her laughter. "Okay, can I just call you back? Yeah, no. Yeah, okay. Bye." he turned off the phone. "Sorry."

"No." she sat her drink down. "I think it's sweet that your mom is so concerned about you. You're such a momma's boy."

"Oh shut up."

"Ahaha. There's nothing wrong with being a momma's boy. I think it's really cute." he sat back, never peeling his eyes off her.

"I think I know what you're trying to do. And I'm sorry to inform you that...it's not working. You can't sweet talk your way into my pants." she immediately broke out laughing. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm just kiddin'. Aha."

"You are too funny. Haha."