Today is a day of many firsts and it makes me exceedingly nervous. Today’s the day Justin meets the new P.A. and I’m kind of worried about what he thinks. All I told him last night was I found him a new assistant and that he’d be meeting her tomorrow. He asked me all sorts of questions about her but I wouldn’t relent. Not even after he threw me down on the floor and tried to tickle me senseless. I want him to be surprised when he meets Maura and that’s all there is to it.
“Before I forget,” I state as we drive through late morning traffic towards the studio, “My mom called yesterday and invited us up to Wyoming for Christmas…”
“If you’re going, I’m going,” Justin says immediately. Okay that’s settled then, Justin is going to meet my bat shit crazy parents and there’s nothing I can do about it. If his meeting with them doesn’t send him for the hills then I should probably propose and marry the bastard immediately.
Not only is Maura being introduced into Justin’s life, but I’m also moving just a little bit out of it. I start my new job at the Beverly Hills Hilton at two o’clock this afternoon and once I get there, I will not have a single moment to myself. My life will be devoted to planning parties, weddings, and bat mitzvahs. I’m moving away from my ultimate goal of heading up a record company, but hopefully my hard work will pay off and I can look around for a job at another label while earning an income with the Hilton job.
“Do you really have to go to work? Can’t you just be my official mood and ego booster?” Justin whines and I reach over to punch him on the shoulder but he’s one step ahead. He grabs my fist with his hand and holds onto it tightly. Dammit, I need to start aiming for the back now.
“You have plenty of people to boost your ego and your mood and you can have me do that over the phone…”
“Um the kind of mood boost I had in mind isn’t the kind of thing you can do over the phone,” Justin mutters and I groan loudly and try my best not to hit him again. Trace starts to laugh like a maniac from the driver’s seat and I want to wipe that mocking smile off his face.
“Can you not think with your dick for two minutes?” I ask. Both he and Trace take a short pause before they look at each other and then back at me,
“No,” they say at the exact same time before they’re reduced to boyish giggles. I wonder why I haven’t lost my damn mind yet.
We pull up to the studio and I notice that Marty is just getting out of his truck. I notice another car has just pulled up into the lot and I notice it immediately as Maura’s. So the initial meeting is going to take place in a parking lot – that isn’t ghetto at all.
“Holy mother fucking hell who is that?” Trace whistles as Maura gets out of her car. She’s dressed semi casual in a long skirt and blouse but I have to admit that she does look really good. Well at least I know she’ll be dressing professionally for this job and not like a complete whore.
Trace parks the car at record speed and we all pile out of the automobile and walk over in Maura’s direction. Justin has a tight hold of my hand and I’m glad that he isn’t joining Trace’s mumblings of how he’d like to tap that from now until the end of the year.
“Who the hell is that?” Marty has joined our little parade of fools and both he and Trace are making a beeline for Maura. She’s standing placidly by the front door even though she’s seen us coming from a mile away. I keep waiting for Trace and Marty to break into a run to see who can get to her first.
“Justin’s new assistant,” Trace mutters under his breath.
“No shit?” Marty responds, “Well damn this tour is going to kick ass.”
“Hi, Maura!” I call out and wave with my free hand. She waves back and before I know it we’re standing in front of each other. Trace and Marty are standing to my left practically drooling over the poor girl. I can see the flash of apprehension in her eyes but she stays calm and I can tell that she’s going to be just fine.
I start the introductions and end with Justin. He reaches forward and shakes her hand before he walks back towards me and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close. I am so proud that he’s not all up in Maura’s business like Trace and Marty and he’s actually being nice…
“Maura, I have a meeting to get to tonight and the clothes I’m wearing for it are at the dry cleaners. Pick that up and take it to my stylist’s office. Then you can go to the house and bring Buckley and Brennan over to the studio. Got that?”
“Dry cleaners, stylist house, house, Buckley and Brennan, studio…” she repeats under her breath, “But wait who…” and before she can get the words out, Justin has shoved me and Marty into the studio. I hear Trace yelling that he’ll catch up with us later…
“I’m gonna show Maura the ropes!” he calls as the doors swing shut.
“You are terrible,” I tell Justin once we’re out of ear shot, “She doesn’t even know who Buckley and Brennan are.”
“Sure she does. Everyone knows who my dogs are,” Justin states casually.
“Justin not everyone knows every little thing about your life. We aren’t all super fans,” I grumble. The fact that he’s treating her like crap right at the get go is rubbing me the wrong way. I should just let it go since the first day I met Justin he sent me to pick up Trace at the airport and pick up his lunch. Should have been easy…except I went to LAX when Trace flew into Burbank and the lunch I got Justin was from some fast food place. Apparently Justin takes his lunch at high-end eateries and not the BK Lounge. Last time I made that mistake.
“Well she has Trace to show her around, don’t worry about it Lauren. I’ve got to break the puppy in somehow,” he jokes.
A few hours later sees Justin taking a break from his dancing to answer a phone call from Trace. I’m sitting on a couch in the back of the room and his sweaty ass saunters over and practically sits on top of me.
“You do realize that I have to look somewhat presentable at work today and having your sweaty back all on me is not going to be a good look for me.”
“Oh be quiet, you know you love my sweaty back,” Justin quips before he starts to laugh like a crazy person.
“What?”
“Listen to this message from Trace,” he states and he slams the phone against my ear.
“Dude, Justin…funniest shit ever! So Maura and I go to your house to get the dogs and she freaks. Apparently she isn’t a fan. I’m afraid B and B aren’t going to make an appearance at the studio…” I stop listening and stare at Justin. He takes the phone out of my hands and dials a number.
“Maura, Justin - sorry about the dog thing. Can you run to Tim Miller’s and get the price sheet for the tour? I need that and a few other things that he has. He might not be there but his secretary will let you in. Oh and I need you to call Timbaland and tell him that I can’t make it to his party tonight but I will definitely see him at the studio tomorrow. I also need you to confirm my travel arrangements to New York for the Saturday Night Live stint and I also need you to figure out hotel reservations and transportation to and from the hotel…you need to type all that up and give the itinerary to everyone on the team. Got that?” And he’s off the phone before poor Maura has a chance to respond.
“If she didn’t hate you for scaring the shit out of her with the dogs, she definitely hates you now,” I explain, “I would be calling you a mother fucking whore bitch for all that shit you’re making me do. God were you this horrible with me?”
“Oh I was worse with you,” Justin explains before he kisses me, “I was worse with you because you were such a fucking pushover. Plus I liked seeing your little pissed off face when I made you do impossible things.”
“You better watch your step Timberlake or I might just end up hating you more than Maura,” I snap good-naturedly.
“Yeah right. You love me too damn much.”
“Lucky for you,” I mumble. He kisses me again before he gets off the couch and heads back to dance. Once I’m sure he’s busy with learning choreography I pull out my phone.
“Hello, Tim? It’s Lauren. Look, Justin can’t make it to the party tonight; the rehearsals for the tour are killing him. He’ll make it up to you in spades later…thanks you take care as well.”
Hanging up the phone, I immediately dial Justin’s travel agent and start to work out his travel arrangements to New York. Once that’s finished, I pull out my Blackberry and send a long, detailed message to Maura. Twenty minutes pass before I get a new message from Maura.
'Thank you!'
Another hour passes and I realize that I can’t stay any longer unless I want to be late for work. I stand up and Justin looks up from his dancing and stops mid combination. Marty yells in frustration but he throws it to the wind and jogs up to me.
“Don’t go!” he mutters into my shoulder as he hugs me tightly, “I can teach you all the dance moves and you can be a dancer on the tour…”
“You and I both know I can’t dance my way out of a paper bag,” I mutter into his chest.
“We can work on that, just don’t go.” Part of me wants to stay but I know if I do I won’t get anything done and I’ll waste away on a couch watching Justin dance for hours on end. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it doesn’t create revenue.
“Justin I have to. This isn’t the end of the world, I’ll see you when you get home tonight,” I explain. He shakes his head and holds onto my tighter. I think he can see what I’m seeing, too - that as soon as I start this job I’m going to be married to it and with Justin going on tour it means that these past few weeks of us being together all the time is going to fade away.
The opening of the door interrupts our silent pity fest and we both turn to look at who it is. Maura is standing there with a small smile on her face as she leans against the door.
“Is there anything else you need me to do today?” she asks quietly.
“You mean you finished all of that shit I gave you to do?”
“Yeah, here’s your price list and the other things you requested from Mr. Miller. Your itinerary has been sent out to all of your team members and I sent a copy to your Blackberry and there’s also a hard copy sitting on the desk in your study at home. Your dry cleaning is with your stylist and she’ll be dropping it off at your house by five thirty tonight. Timbaland got the message and he’ll see you at rehearsals tomorrow. I also took the liberty of planning your travel arrangements to Wyoming for your Christmas vacation and Trace pointed me out as to where your Christmas list for this year is. Around twenty-five percent of it is done and I can get the rest done later this afternoon and tomorrow if that’s alright with you?”
Justin looks at her completely speechless before he nods wordlessly and she starts to leave.
“Damn Lauren, she’s almost better than you!”
Aw, if the poor bastard only knew.
*~*~*
After another five minutes of Justin refusing to let me leave the studio, I was finally able to make it to my car and start the short journey to Beverly Hills. The Hilton stands there in all its glory and I already know that as soon as I step foot inside of it, my free life will probably be over.
The manager of the hotel sent me a file after I got back from Memphis explaining that once I got to work I’d be planning a wedding for some senator’s daughter. Big to do, and it requires a lot of work. Especially when it’s in two days. Of course it isn’t anything I can’t handle – if working for Justin taught me one thing it’s that anything impossible can be accomplished in a short amount of time.
I walk into the main lobby and forgo gawking over the glitz and glamour of the hotel. If I stand around and get all into this place I’ll never make it to the grand ballroom where this whole shindig is going down. I’m going to have to be very familiar with this place if it means I have to help plan high-end parties.
The rows of ballrooms and convention centers are all lined up down one corridor that is wider than Star Jones’s ass post gastric bypass and the interior decorators of the hotel wasted no expense in embellishing the hell out of the place. Chandeliers are everywhere and the walls are hung with enormous mirrors that could probably show off an entire Ugandan village. The grand ballroom is in the center of it all.
Opening one of the huge oak doors, I let myself in and see that the place is already bustling with activity. People are filing past with floral arrangements and others are setting up the tables. The ceremony is taking place at some random Scientology Church and we’re the set up for the reception. Tables are all over the place and I guess the senator is expecting a wedding of gigantic proportions because all I can see are tables
Most of them are already set with the Hilton’s finest china and I can only hope that I can get a major discount should I ever decide to hold a reception or any sort of function here. I’ve seen the slated price tag for this reception and if I put all the paychecks I earned from being Justin’s assistant together from the whole four years I was there it wouldn’t even be able to pay for half.
My attention is drawn to someone standing on a ladder off to the left. He’s currently preoccupied with trying to hang some kind of floral garland on the ceiling. I guess the theme is Alice in Wonderland or some shit like that because there are going to be flowers everywhere All the garlands start at the end of the room and meet in the center under the dance floor to create this enormous cluster fuck of flowers in the center of the floor. A little too over the top if you ask me, but then again I’m not the one getting married.
The guy leans forward to press the garland into the ceiling. I can tell disaster is going to strike since the ladder is wobbling all over the place. This can’t be good at all. The idiot thinks he can lean ahead even more and that’s when all goes to hell.
With a yelp of surprise, the guy loses his balance and pitches forward, landing directly on a table that has already been set. Plates and cutlery go flying everywhere with a sickening crash as the table snaps in half due to the man’s weight. His hand is still firmly clutching the garland and it goes down too, the whole strand of it. Thirty feet of strung out flowers goes crashing to the ground along with the ladder, which just misses taking out another table.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. This is so not good.
All the other employees merely cast disappointed glances his way before they continue with what they’re doing. Do these people honestly not care that this guy could be bleeding all over the table and getting the linens dirty?
I rush over towards the poor kid who is trying in vain to get himself out of the little conundrum he’s found himself in. I can already see that the thick glasses that should be perched on his nose are broken and set off his face. There’s a cut from what I can only guess is glass on not only his cheek, but his forehead as well. I’m sure there’s more on his body but I’m not about to do a full check up. Last time I checked I’m not a doctor and doing a full body search isn’t part of my job description.
“Are you okay?” I ask the guy. He turns to look up at me. He groans when he finally realizes what a mess he’s made. I can almost see the gears working in his head at how much his little tumble is going to set back the team setting this place up. For a second I can almost see tears but I don’t say anything as I reach out and help him up.
“Thank you,” he mumbles before he plucks his glasses off his face and squints at them. I’m starting to feel really bad for this guy.
“I’m Lauren Walters,” I explain before I extend my hand. He squints at me again and almost misses my hand as he goes to shake it. Apparently the poor kid is blind as a bat. Well I have my work cut out for me.
“Elliot Rodgers…soon to be fired…” he gives an exasperated sigh and moves a foot around; the sound of glass breaking even further makes him wince. I’m starting to feel bad for this kid… “how the heck am I going to fix this?”
And before he can get another word in I’ve already surveyed the room. There are two interns standing in the corner comparing the bling jobs on their Blackberries not doing a single thing.
“You two!” I shout and they give me a scathing look before slowly making their way over towards Elliot and I. “What are you doing right now?”
“We’re on break,” they say almost at the exact same time. One of them is popping gum and the other looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here. Oh I hate bitches like this.
“You are officially off break. I want you,” I point to Gum Chewer, “to find a replacement table, new linens, and more china. I don’t care if you have to go to another Hilton, just get it done today. And you…” Ice Queen stares at me with her mouth slightly agape, “I need you to make sure that the flowers on the garland aren’t damaged and then you need to re-hang it and make sure that it’s secure.” Both women look at me as if I sprouted a second head, “Well go!” I shout and with many mutterings under their breath, the interns take off furiously typing on their Blackberries.
“Wow,” Elliot breathes. I turn to look at him and he’s looking at me with a mixture of what seems to be infatuation and admiration. “How did you execute that plan so flawlessly?” Looks like I have a nerd on my hands.
“Well it’s a long story,” I say with a smile. It isn’t until then I notice that he still has a few cuts on his face, “What do you say we get those cuts cleaned up and I’ll tell you all about it?” He nods silently and brings his broken glasses up to his eyes so he can find his way towards the staff room.
Once inside the staff room I find a few people sitting around still on ‘break.’ Apparently Gum Chewer and Ice Queen came this way because they all throw me nasty looks and start to file out towards the grand ballroom. Great, I love making good first impressions.
“Is everyone this terrible?” I ask Elliot as he sits down at the table. I grab the first aid kit and sit down next to him.
“Those are just the people brought in by the wedding planner and the senator,” Elliot explains, “Everyone else that works here are really good about getting things done.” I nod silently as I pull out some gauze and band aides. The cut doesn’t look too nasty which is a good thing. Elliot seems like a hard worker and I would hate for him to leave so he can get his face stitched up.
“So you’re here all the time then?”
“Yeah I’m always here – this place is pretty much my life. In fact, you could say that we’re both in charge of all that goes on here but no one really listens to me.” I’m guessing it’s the fact that he’s a huge dork as well as a push over.
“Well that’s about to change. If you already couldn’t tell I don’t take a lot of shit from people,” I explain. He looks a bit affronted that I just swore in front of him but the guy is going to have to get used to it.
“Did you take shit from Justin Timberlake?” The question kind of takes me by surprise because I wasn’t even thinking that he would know anything about my previous job. I don’t really want any of my co-workers to find out that I did work for him and especially that I’m dating him.
“Not really,” I relent. “But I guess he gave me too much because I’m not working for him anymore.”
“But aren’t you dating him?” Elliot questions and I almost choke on my own spit. I try my best to avoid the question but he smiles brightly to show that he’s totally caught me trying to cover up my crap.
“Sorry, that wasn’t nice of me at all. I-I-I’m sorry,” he stammers and looks away before he gets up and grabs some medical tape from the first aid kit. He leans against the counter and starts to wrap the bridge of his glasses, “I’m not a stalker or anything…”
Then what the fuck is he, a fan?
“Then how did you know?”
“Well you two are all over the news,” he explains before he picks up a magazine that I totally didn’t see the first time around. He tosses it to me and I stare at the cover. On the front is a picture of me walking through LAX with Justin. Both of us are staring at one another laughing at something he had said. You can totally tell by the look on our faces that there’s something more going on than just friends. And of course the title of the magazine is screaming that Justin has a new woman.
Well just fucking great.
During my entire time with Justin we were never allowed to pick up the shit rags that littered supermarkets or bookstores. If any sort of gossip were exceedingly important, Ken would bring it up at meetings or whatever. In truth, this is the first time I’ve held a gossip magazine in at least four years.
“Management wants us to keep up with the celebrity gossip just in case we have to throw a party that’s teeming with stars. You know, just in case people are having a feud or something and in the same room” I nod absentmindedly as I continue to stare at the magazine.
Up until now I was only considered to be the help, pushed into the background and no one would give a damn about me except the super fans who would probably know the name and social security number of Justin’s Personal Ass Wiper; you know, if he had one.
Granted I don’t think the paparazzi would want to mess with me because they’ve seen me in action when I was just his personal assistant, they so don’t want to give me shit for being his girlfriend.
But still, it’s a bit weird that after all these years I’m getting recognized and I have yet to see if that’s a good or bad thing.
“Come on Elliot, let’s get back out there and get this wedding out of the way,” I say before I give him a friendly pat on the shoulder and lead him out of the break room. Hopefully this will be easy, but when I walk out into the main ballroom and see that Ice Queen and Gum Chewer aren’t doing the things I told them to do, I know I’m going to have my work cut out for me.
More than ever I wish I hadn’t taken this job and I was back watching Justin. As much as I hate to admit it – I miss him something terrible and that makes me nervous because in less than a month we’re going to be miles apart and I won’t be able to drop everything to go see him.
And that freaks me out more than anything.
