Her eyes glanced around the hotel room.  It was a modest suite with a simple living room area and a bay window looking out into the city skyline.  Off to the right was the bedroom with a queen-size bed.  The only evidence of an occupant in this hotel room was a small suitcase at the foot of the bed and a small leather-bound book sitting on the coffee table.  She turned back and noted he had remained in the same place in the entry hall, his blue eyes studying her every movement.  The silence was deafening, but neither spoke.

He finally moved from his spot in the entryway into the main living area.  She nervously inched towards the window in response.  The tension in the room continued to build as the two stared at each other with mutual curiosity.  He sat down in one of the club chairs and continued to flash her the same inquisitive stare.

The combination of exhaustion from the energy she had exerted earlier at the concert and the anxiety of coming to see him had set in.  His silence and her discomfort in the situation had now pushed her to full irritation.  She stomped her foot as she put her arms up in the air in frustration. 

“Well?” she asked, with annoyance.

He looked up at her, his eyes widening but he still did not react to her.

Her frustration had gotten to her now and she could feel herself losing control.  She swiftly untied the belt on her wrap dress and dropped it off to the ground, standing before the window in her lingerie.  “Did you want to have some foreplay here or should we just get down to business in the bedroom?”  Her words had a vicious bite to them. 

His cheeks reddened and he brought his hand to his eyes, covering them.  “Please…please put your dress back on…” 

She obeyed, feeling equally sheepish.  She slid the dress back on and sat down in the other club chair.  “What’s going on?” she asked quietly, confused and unsure of herself.

“I don’t want to have sex with you,” he said quietly.

She stared at him.  She had just assumed this was all about sex.  What was this all about then?

“I mean…not that I don’t want to…I mean, I don’t, but I…” he stammered, reddening again. 

She smiled faintly at his nervousness.  “I know what you meant”

“Okay, good,” he leaned back in the chair. 

“Where is the sound system?” she asked, peering around to look for a stereo of some sort. 

“Did you want to listen to music?”

“Normally I need music to dance…” she said, with a hint of sarcasm.

“Dance?” 

“Look, J.C.  I am a dancer.  Now, I’ll strip for you, but I would at least like to dance first.  That’s going to require some music…”

“I don’t want you to strip.”

She raised her eyebrow and scratched the back of her neck nervously.  “Um…why did you want me here then?”

He put his hand up in protest.  “I don’t do this.  But I saw your face the other night and I just thought…I just thought that if I could get you out of the situation, for even one night, I should.  So, I told him that I wanted to have you for the night.  But, I have no intention of treating you that way or doing anything like that with you.”  He looked at her, waiting to see how she would react.  Her face had softened and the tension in her shoulders had released.  He could see the relief in her face and he continued.  “His security guards will tell him if they see you leave here, so you’re stuck here for a few hours.”  He drummed his fingers on the arm rest of the chair tensely.  “Are you hungry?  I’m starving.  We could order room service,” he offered, as he stood up looking for the menu on the table.  He smiled with self-satisfaction when he managed to find it and held it up triumphantly.  “Did you want to take a look?” he asked, holding it out for her.

“That’s alright, I’ll eat anything,” she smiled without taking it from him.

“Okay, I’ll call in an order,” he said and headed to the room phone. 

While he spoke on the phone, she mused about how different the evening was playing out.  She had expected to relive the same experience she had had with Justin a few nights ago, but was relieved that this would be nothing like that.  Still, it was an unusual situation and she wasn’t sure how they were going to make time pass beyond eating.  J.C. hung up the phone and returned to his chair once again.  

“That should be up in about a half an hour or so.  I…” he trailed off, looking around the room for some sort of an activity for the two.  “…did you want something to drink?” He motioned towards the small bar in the corner of the room.   

“That’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

She sighed with reluctance.  “Okay.”

“Any requests?” he asked, opening the mini-fridge.

“Anything is fine…really,” she covered her mouth with a faint yawn as he turned away.

He returned to the table with two bottles of Corona and a deck of hotel playing cards.  He handed her one of the bottles and then unwrapped the deck of cards.  “Game?”

She smiled, “What did you have in mind?”

He shuffled the cards  quickly and then a playful smile came to his lips, “Go Fish?”

She laughed lightly.  “How about Blackjack?”

**

The two had snacked on room service and played cards for nearly an hour.  Whitney felt herself yawning and covered her mouth quickly. 

“Did you want to stop playing now?” he asked, already collecting the cards back to clean up. 

“I guess we can call it a draw,” she said playfully.  “So what else does our night of hotel confinement entail?”

He looked around the room, desperate for another idea.  His eyes fell to the bedroom doorway.  “We could watch t.v. or a movie if you’d like.” 

“That’s fine,” she said.  She was ready for bed, but would settle for mindless television viewing. 

He hesitated and then slowly bit his lower lip.  “We’d have to watch in there,” he said, pointing. 

“It’s a pretty big bed, I think it’ll be alright,” she said, as she stood up and followed his lead.  She slipped her heels off before climbing up onto the bed.  He searched for the remote and then handed it to her. 

“I’m just going to change, if that’s alright,” he said, yawning.    

She nodded and turned the television on as he slipped sweatpants out from his suitcase and then headed into the bathroom.  As he emerged from the bathroom, she watched as he snapped his fingers as if remembering something and then headed back out into the living room area.  He snatched the leather-bound book from the coffee table and returned, placing it on the nightstand before slowly laying down on the opposite side of the bed. 

“What is that for?” she asked, turning to face him.  Her eyes wandered down his shirtless chest, but then darted back up before he noticed her checking him out. 

“Oh, I use it to help with writing songs.  If I have ideas or inspiration I jot down notes in it.  I like having it by my side,” he said, absently running his hand up and down the leather cover. 

“What made you start songwriting?” she asked. 

“What made you start dancing?” he retorted with a wide smile. 

She smiled, “Alright, I see your point.  You win.”

The two turned their attention back to the television.  Her eyes wandered back over to him, her mind starting to reel.  Finally, she cleared her throat and opened her mouth unsure of what his reaction would be.  “So, why do you keep company with such a monster of a person?” she asked, bluntly.

His eyes widened at her candor and he brought a finger to his lips, thinking about the best way to answer her.  He shifted uneasily and looked away from her.  From the long pause he was taking she was sure that he himself did not know the answer either.  She leaned in, searching for a reaction from him.  He let out a heavy sigh.  “He isn’t a monster.”  She frowned with disapproval as he put his right hand on his chest for emphasis.  “He isn’t.  At least, he didn’t use to be.  Look, Justin’s not himself right now, but I have to believe he’ll find his old self again.” 

“What changed?  What pushed him away from himself?” she asked, with genuine curiosity.  She wanted insight on what had happened to Justin, what made him the way he is now.  No one seemed to know, but J.C. was clearly more aware than he had let on until now.

“It’s not my story to tell,” he said simply. 

She was both disappointed and impressed with his loyalty.  She decided that it was better not to push J.C. so she didn’t prod.  But, curiosity was overwhelming her now.  There was more going on with Justin than just being an ego-tripping womanizing pop star.  She was desperate to find out the truth.  While J.C. turned his attention back to the movie, she found herself lost in thought. 

**

Whitney’s eyes quickly fluttered open in reaction to the noise.  She was disoriented for a moment, but quickly remembered where she was.  She realized she had fallen asleep in J.C.’s bed, but noted that he was nowhere to be seen.  She leaned over and glanced at the tableside clock, noting that it was now 3:17 a.m.  She saw that J.C. had made a makeshift bed for himself on the sofa in the living area with a throw blanket and smiled with relief. 

Thump.  Clang.  Clang.  Thump. 

The noise was growing louder.  It was coming from the hallway and sounded like the person had smashed into the room service dishes as they headed to bang on the hotel room door.  Her heart started beating faster with anticipation.  Suddenly J.C. darted into the bedroom.  He put a finger to his lips motioning for her to stay quiet.  He quickly threw the pillows from the bed onto the floor and messed the bedding.  She gave him a perplexed look as he motioned for her to untie her dress as he slid his pants off and threw them across the room.  She was about to protest when she heard a muffled voice huskily calling through the door.  J.C. quickly slid beside her under the covers and gave her a knowing look as they both heard the click of the door opening.

**