"That choreographer - Ms. Turner - is here."

Nodding, Justin bent to tighten the laces on his sneakers, wondering if this one would wear his ass out as the others had. Four days straight of working with different choreographers in hopes of finding the one with the style he wanted was going to kill him. I'm too old for this shit, he thought with a groan, feeling the muscles in his thighs ache as he got to his feet. All Mel Gibson and Danny Glover had to deal with were ninjas and rookies while he had actual slave drivers that he knew were left over from the days of the Old South. Shaking his head to clear his jumbled thoughts, Justin grabbed the towel and bottle of water from his bag and headed out into the studio.

A young woman stood by the stereo. Rachel and the others had obviously decided to leave him alone for this round of torture. He was chagrined when he looked to the clock and saw he was ten minutes late and wondered how this one would make those ten minutes seem like ten hours. He had been four minutes late the day before and, as punishment, had dragged him through painful routines for well over an hour. Sighing, he decided to face his fears and headed over to her. "Sorry I'm late," he began, biting his lip to hide a smile when she jumped in surprise. "And I'm sorry I scared you... I'm Justin."

She turned and he felt a strange sense of déjà vu when he looked at her face. As though he knew her from somewhere… She smiled and offered a small shrug, reaching to shake his extended hand.

"You're Ms... Turner, right?" She nodded and he wondered if she was star struck. Would stacks of old pictures and CDs appear for him to sign? Or would a video of his out-of-shape ass end up on YouTube? Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he released it, but not before glancing down at the soft, warm fingers that had clutched his. Brow furrowing in thought, he shook his head slightly and reached to rub the back of his neck. "What's your plan for me? I... Really don't remember much about your audition video and I'm sorry for that. I've gone through hundreds and... You don't talk much, huh?" he asked after a moment when he realized she hadn't said a single word.

Again she shook her head. Motioning to the center of the room, she then turned and started the stereo. Sighing, Justin took a sip of his water, watching the natural sway of her hips as she walked to the center of the large room. She faced the mirrored wall, a picture of supreme concentration on her face as she rolled her shoulders. He continued to watch as she placed her body in position, right foot behind the left, arms idle at her sides, left hip jutted forward slightly.

Then the music began and he forgot about everything else.

***

Bringing the towel to her damp face, Calandra mopped the perspiration from her flushed skin. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath and her legs ached from the two hours of nonstop dancing, but she had never felt so exhilarated in her life.

She had danced with Justin Timberlake. Alone. For two hours.

Even if he didn't know who she was, even if he was amused at her lack of speech, he had danced with her. He had put his hands on her and his voice had rumbled in her ears as he sang to the instrumental tracks that had played and he had followed every movement of her body as though they had danced the routines together for years.

A cold bottle of water landed in her lap and she glanced up, smiling her thanks when Justin collapsed on the floor in front of her. She tried her best not to focus on the way his t-shirt clung to his sweaty body. She tried very hard to ignore the way his stomach dipped inward as he stretched out on his back. Pulling her gaze to her lap, she uncapped her water and took several hearty gulps, praying the cold water would help calm her racing heart.

Her heart continued to race, however, and she began to wonder if it was all due to just the dancing…

"That was awesome." His whisper was barely audible but she heard it as clearly as if he had spoken directly in her ear.

Oh, how grateful she was that the Dream Weaver hadn't taken her sense of hearing! It had been difficult enough during the past forty-eight hours to grow accustomed to not having a voice. Not that she had really had a chance to grow accustomed to anything. Leaning back against the wall as she continued to sip her water, she thought back on the last two days, still so overwhelmed she felt she would die if it all turned out to be a dream.

The last thing she remembered was fainting in that vibrant, color-filled room with the Dream Weaver holding onto her. Whether she had been out for moments, hours or even days, she had no clue. All she knew was that when she awoke, she had been tucked into a soft bed in a strange room. The strange room had been in a strange apartment in a strange building in a strange neighborhood. The apartment was filled with strange furniture and strange knick knacks and a closet filled with clothes that fit her perfectly but were not hers. The bathroom contained expensive toiletries that made her hair shine and her face glow but she knew she had never used them before.

After hours of wandering around, she had finally located a purse that contained her vital information. Her name, her birthday, her height and weight, her Social Security number. Everything was the same, except for the address, checkbook and various credit cards. A day planner had been shoved into the purse and after figuring out the date she had learned of today's audition for Justin.

She'd had two days to prepare and had literally pulled a routine out of nowhere. But he had seemed to like it, watching her go through it once before joining her. She had been surprised at his quick learning, not really believing him when he suggested they run through it just once more.

"Think you can put together choreography for me and eight dancers before the tour starts in a couple weeks?" Justin asked, rolling into a seated position to look at her.

Eyes wide in surprise, she made a faltering motion with one hand towards the center of the room before pointing to herself. He grinned, sending her heart into a tailspin, and she offered a shaky nod. Yes! Fucking yes! A million times yes!

"I ain't gonna lie, it'll take some work. The dancers are all good, of course. Most of them worked with me on my last tour and have kept in shape and the others can out-dance my sorry ass anytime of the day or night." As he spoke he continued to grin and Calandra knew she had to look a fool, so excited to be in his presence that she kept smiling and nodding. He could have talked of flatulence or bowel movements and she would have been enraptured.

"But I'm going to take a little extra work." His dark blue eyes glittered as he spoke and she unconsciously slid her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, heart rate accelerating again as she thought of more hours alone with him.

If the man continued to be so sexy she would have to look into purchasing a vibrator.

"So what do you say, Ms. Turner? I'm sorry; I can't remember your first name." He said.

Fuck. Another reminder that he didn't remember her. When he had first walked in and looked at her she had seen some sort of glimmer in his eyes but it had quickly died away. Not that she really expected him to just drop to one knee and burst into unending platitudes of her kindness and beauty. But it had been a little disheartening to know that he truly didn't remember her face. Swallowing another mouthful of water, she got to her feet and moved for the large black leather purse that sat in the corner. Digging inside, she found the driver's license that she had never tested for with the photo she had never sat for and held it out for his inspection before turning so he could see the notice on the back. The one word that summed up her situation so perfectly that she had cried upon first seeing it. Mute.

"Calandra? That's pretty... What do you say, Calandra? Want to be my choreographer? Rach said she sent a copy of the tour schedule and the tentative salary and all the perks of touring with me and--not that touring with me is really a perk…" He laughed, one hand reaching to rub the back of his neck. "I should say the perks of touring. You know, your own hotel room that will be paid for and all your meals covered and traveling first class all the way." He cleared his throat, so obviously not accustomed to carrying a conversation on his own. "Well?"

There was no hesitation. Her hand jutted forward to shake his so quickly even she was surprised and when his warm palm slid over hers she was certain she felt an electrical surge travel up her arm and down her spine. And then he hauled her close into a tight hug.

"Deals always work better if they're sealed with a hug. It's the country bumpkin in me." He grinned again and she returned his embrace, deeply inhaling his scent before they parted. "Now that that's done, how 'bout I treat you to lunch to celebrate before we hash out a schedule?"