Chapter Fifteen: The Road to Success
And just like that, I have Vanessa Martinez in the same position she was in hours ago.
The constant tug at the leg of my jeans makes me want to kick out my leg, but I don‘t. I wish I was alone with her. Where I could strip her off of this little tank top and these perfectly fitting jeans. Where does this woman get these? If I was in the right state of mind whenever I kissed her, if I didn’t completely loose myself in a kiss, I would ask her about them but fuck it, I can’t. All I have in my mind is the beginning stages of a hard on.
It’s Buckley doing the tugging. He pulls at my jeans harder when I ignore him and continue to devoured Vanessa’s lips. She‘s pinned up against the kitchenette’s counter, and I can feel every curve in her body. She’s fucking delicious. I always thought she would be- in the morning, in the middle of the day, at night, all the time. She’s fucking incredible and I don’t blame Buckley one bit, actually. He’s clearly jealous and trying to get attention. But I would bet a million bucks that he’s wanting his new friend’s attention and not mine. I just happen to be in the way of his prey. Better luck next time, buddy. She’s mine!
All mine.
The door to my left opens and I don’t stop the kisses I’m placing on Vanessa’s neck, nor do I open my eyes. I simply point my finger in the direction of Rachel, who is probably cringing and the door closes quietly. Tracing my way back up her neck, I make a stop at her lips where she bites lightly on the bottom one. Her green eyes are staring back into mine and she pushes on my chest. She kisses me, barely a peck on the lips. “She is trustworthy, being your cousin and all, right?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask and I have a feeling I wasn’t the only one that heard Rachel open the door.
“This bus is very small, Mr. Timberlake,” she says close to my lips. “Anything that you can hear, I can hear.”
“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say and I can’t stop the smile that’s on my lips. She’s so fucking sexy.
“Buckley’s been trying to get your attention,” she says looking around and behind me. Buckley had been on the other side of her, behind me, how did she know that? And here I thought, I was in control. “Your dogs aren’t out here anymore, Mr. Timberlake.”
“So what are you saying, Ms. Martinez?” I ask mockingly as my lips trace hers. I want her so bad, I could fucking cry. I swear, I could.
“I’m saying,” she says and this time she kisses me slowly, lets it linger and right when I’m about to grip her up like I had five minutes ago, she pushes me away. I land on my previous spot. The table hits the side of my ribs and I grunt. “I’m saying that what your assistant just saw better stay in here.”
“It’s…” I start to say but Rachel opens the door and walks out onto the small area we’re in.
“If I’d wanted to sell any dirt on Justin, I’d much rather dig up his closet. All those tapes he has are far more interesting than him kissing you, that’s for sure,” Rachel has smiles at Vanessa but I can tell is not a very real one. She looks at me and shrugs when I turn beet red, at her words.
“RACHEL!!” I say loudly, red face and all. I look at Vanessa who is giving me a raised brow and I’m even more embarrassed. She may think a lot of things about me but pervert is not one I would allow. “That’s not true! She’s fucking with you. RIGHT, RACHEL!?”
“Sure I am,“ she says and the sarcasm is way too much for me. I immediately start bagging my head on the table, slowly, in misery. Why does every woman in my life call me out at times like these? “He’s not only my employer, Vanessa,” Rachel says to her as she walks the short distance to the lounge area of the bus. “He’s family and while you may think otherwise, I would never do anything remotely close to damage our relationship. Especially not our family.”
“I sure hope so,” Vanessa says with a shrug and she seems relaxed, although a little embarrassed. But the fact that she’s on my bus and has managed to tell me a little about herself, played with my dogs and is talking to Rachel like a human being, shows how relaxed she is. And the more I learn about her, the more I want to know more.
“Still hungry?” I ask trying to ease the tension that is present with the two women in the small space. I’m not stupid enough to get into this shit. They have a problem with each other, that’s their business. I’m staying out of it.
“Yeah sure,” Vanessa says as Brennen rubs his head on her leg. I know the feeling buddy, I know exactly how you feel about her. You want to be near her all the time and have her touch you…yeah, I know the feeling.
“Make me one,” Rachel says to me and I throw a piece of turkey at her from where I’m sitting and watching as Vanessa takes her previous seat.
“Who’s the assistant here?” I say to Rachel, who rolls her eyes at me.
“Shut up and make me one,” she’s reading her magazine, lounging back like she always does. Shouldn’t I be the one doing that? Shouldn’t I be laying up with Vanessa on top of me and…I need to stop.
Vanessa looks at me and then back at Brennen who couldn’t beat Buckley to the turkey on the floor. “What?”
“Nothing,” she says playing with the bracelets on her wrist. She grabs a piece of turkey from the wrapping and puts it in her mouth. Dear Lord in heaven, please forgive me for my sinful thoughts.
I continue making the sandwiches, adding a third one for my assistant. I’m trying really hard to divert my eyes from the cleavage that’s in front of me, but it‘s the fucking pits cause I can‘t. The last thing I need is for a hard-on in front of my cousin. If Vanessa and I were alone, I would be all over her and fuck the sandwiches. This is bad, this thing that goes through me when she’s around, is really, really fucking bad.
Rachel gets up and kicks me under the table as she goes into the small refrigerator. I wish she would stop the stupid things that we do on the bus when we have a guest. I try to kick her back but apparently my dogs are forgetting who their master is because Brennen stands to attention. Both women are taking over my dogs on this trip, I swear. I playfully smack Brennen’s face and he licks my hand.
“Thank you,” Vanessa says when Rachel places a can of soda in front of her and a bottled water in front of me.
“Sure,” Rachel says and smacks me on the head before grabbing her sandwich and another can of soda from the fridge.
“Ouch!” I say and rub my head with a groan. Vanessa chuckles on her side of the table quietly. “What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing,” she says and she feeds Brennen a piece of turkey before petting his head.
“Don’t feed my dogs table food,” I say and I’m just fucking with her because I can.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Buckley had a piece, I only thought it was fair. Sorry,” she says and goes back to eating the rest of her sandwich. I inhaled mine within seconds, I don’t know what’s taking her so fucking long. I think she’s eating it slowly to fuck with me. I know she’s caught me looking at her lips at least three times in the past twenty seconds.
“He’s full of shit,” Rachel volunteers from the lounge and laughs. “I feed them pizza all the time, they love it, and Justin gives them anything that he has on his plate.”
“Is that right?” Vanessa asks looking at me.
“I was joking,” I say and smile at her. “You can do anything to the dogs and of course their owner.”
“You’re so fucking cheesy, Justin,” Rachel mumbles and Vanessa looks at her before they both start laughing hysterically. Are they laughing at me? When did this happen? “Gag me with a spoon.”
I laugh too because it’s contagious. I don’t think they even know what they’re laughing about themselves. All I know is that Vanessa is laughing and not off to one side. And most importantly she’s looking me in the yes when she talks to me, she’s not ignoring me and I’m not ignoring her. This is weird.
It’s over an hour later that finds the three of us watching Just Friends, a pick from my wonderful assistant. It’s her favorite movie. Vanessa is laying across from Rachel and I, the two dogs taking complete reign over her. Buckley is laying over her legs and he’s sleeping like a baby, while Brennen is being used as a pillow under her head. In the meantime, on my lap, is a pillow with Rachel’s head resting comfortably on it. How did I end up with this deal? I never thought the day would come when I would actually be jealous of my dogs. The time is here and this bus ride isn’t what I had in mind.
I’m not really interested in the movie, I’ve seen it a thousand times. The lighting on the bus is set to theater and the only light in the room is the illumination of the television. But I can see that Vanessa’s falling asleep and I know it’s creepy to stare at someone while they sleep, but I can’t help it. She looks so calm and relaxed, unlike the person that walks around with a straight face and is a bitch to whomever challenges her.
She senses that I’m looking at her and she shifts to lay on her side, with her arms as her pillow. Brennen gets down from under her head and lays on the floor, but doesn’t make an attempted to show me some love. Both dogs are permanently attached to her. She looks up at me and when she smiles, I swear I feel it in my gut. The room seems to lighten up and I wonder how I’m going to survive the rest of this ride without touching her. I wonder.
--------------------------
Los Angeles, California
FutureSex/LoveSounds Album Release, End of Tour Celebration
I’ve done it again. My second solo project is complete, and over an hour ago, it was released to the entire world. FutureSex/LoveSounds is in the hands of those who will either ‘break’ me or ‘make’ me. I’m hoping for the latter. And I’m excited about the future endeavors to come.
While I personally would have preferred having a party at my house, with my family and friends to celebrate. It is accustomed to have an album release party where other celebrities come to mingle, hook up and get shit-faced. The said occasion is taking place at Parc, my least favorite hot spot in Hollywood. But it was Johnny’s suggestion that I took and ran with. Jive was very happy.
Nine percent of the crowd consist of family members and the small group of people I actually call friends. The people that helped make this album some to life and the people that were always around when I took my ‘break’, those are the people that would have been at my house, hanging out, instead of all the glitz and glamour, I’m in.
Ninety percent of these people are other celebrities, that I’ve met throughout my career. I didn’t personally invited them but the people at Jive make sure that the hottest and latest is invited. I get invites all the time to record release parties of artist I don’t even know. Some I don’t really give a damn about, but out of courtesy, I always send something as a gift. Drop their names in interviews, things like that. Good old’ Public Relations.
There lies the one percent remaining, my Public Relations Director is a percentage all by her fucking self.
But by herself, she is not.
It’s been twelve days, thirteen hours, fifty-six minutes and thirty-two seconds, since I’ve had contact with Vanessa Martinez.
I’ve seen her, of course, every single day. My recent breakup with Cameron allowed Vanessa to be in my presence nearly one hundred percent of the time. So, I don’t mean contact as in, talking. I mean CONTACT. I haven’t touched her. I haven’t kissed her. I have barely graced shoulders with her at the different events she went along to. And she went back to her bus. I’m not mad, it was the right thing to do. The last thing I wanted was to be portrayed as a player that left Cameron for my Public Relations Director. And Vanessa having that position, took her things to her assigned bus as soon as we got to Atlanta.
That was the last time I had her alone. That was TWELVE fucking days ago. I don’t even know how I’ve managed.
She’s across the room, no doubt, still working. Her friend is standing next to her, dancing to the music being played, having a good time. Vanessa, I can tell, is not.
She’s been running around like a chicken with its head cut off since we arrived in Atlanta, and I know the feeling. I know what it’s like being pulled into seventy different way. I’ve been working nonstop finishing the album, avoiding paparazzi, and watching what I do and say around females around me. I was advised by the one and only, the chicken, to try to lay low until the Cameron things calmed down a bit. I took the advice, I’ve been MIA, except when I’ve been onstage.
I heard about the shit load of trouble that girl, Jojo, has been getting into and I’ve seen the consequences. Vanessa Martinez is on an popping with her shit. Through the grapevine, I heard the girl is on her way to rehab, that is when she leaves my party tonight. Leave it to Jive to make sure she made an appearance at my party.
My party.
The one that has Vanessa across the very large club, talking to Dre and keeping an eye on the young alcoholic girl, across the room. She’s working, while I sit here, drinking a few beers with my mother, pretending that my head isn’t about to combust in money green envy and jealousy.
Being in my shoes isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. This sucks.
“Why don’t you just go talk to her, Baby,” my mother says and I have to smile because she’s drunk and her accent is at it’s highest.
“What?” I ask pretending like I didn’t hear her over the loud music and wondering if my obsession is showing. Because that’s what it is, I’m becoming obsessed. And I could give a flying fuck.
“It’s your party. You’re required to mingle with the guests,” she says into my ear. “Go,” and pushes my butt off the leather seat. I chuckle a bit because my mother is a complete trip.
“You’re drunk,” I say with laugh.
“Yes, I am,” she says with a wide smile. “But not drunk enough to watch you be miserable at your own party. You’ve been sitting there staring at her for ages, honey!”
“I have not!” I argue even though she’s right. What am I supposed to do? I can’t do what I want to do to her in front of all these people. I have people watching my every move, watching to catch me breath on another female that’s not Cameron, so the rumors can fly. Fucking great!
Vanessa chooses that very moment to look over at me and we make eye contact for the hundredth time in the past half hour. She doesn’t smile or wave or anything, she just looks at me. The scowl that is on my face doesn’t falter and she looks at Dre and then back at me, in silent question. Yeah, I’m pissed about him being that close. At him having touched you more than I have in twelve mother fucking DAYS! That’s why I’m looking at you this way. THAT’S WHY!
She shakes her head like she’s disappointed and tells Dre something that I would pay a million dollars to know. She tells Barker something too and her friend looks at me. Barker, a good friend of Trace’s apparently, turns her back to the other two and gives me a cut throat signal. She sticks her finger in her mouth and pretends to gag herself while pointing over her shoulder at Dre. It makes me chuckle a bit and she’s pulled away from Dre and Vanessa by Trace. Now it’s just the two of them.
When I see Dre hug Vanessa to his side, and his hands are on her bare skin. I loose it. That’s it!! Fuck this!!
I’m stopped by random people on my way and I’m pissed because my view of Vanessa is blocked. There seems to be a lot of that going around, cock blocking. Shit!
When I finally make it remotely close to her, I notice that Johnny comes to her and tells her something that makes her walk away. I can’t believe this shit! Am I going to have to chase her around the fucking room? I’ve already done that. All fucking night! Only to have her end up chatting away with Dre, god damnit!
The night is officially over. Isn’t this supposed to be MY night? Aren’t all my dreams supposed to come true? I mean it’s not my birthday but damn, what the fuck?
Within an hour, I’m on my way home from my album release party and I’m not even remotely drunk, like I should be with the success of it. I mingled with the best people in the industry for a few hours, obsessed over Vanessa some more and now I want to be home, be Justin. It seems like forever since I’ve been there and it feels good to see the outside of it as, the limo pulls into the driveway.
I’m exhausted, I realize.
If the media caught the way I’m looking right at the moment, they wouldn’t believe that I’d brought sexy back into anything. In fact, I’m farthest from it, tired is NOT sexy.
My mother offered to come stay with me after the party and promised a nice home cooked breakfast, but I declined. If it wasn’t for the fact that Trace lived here, I would have probably told him to go home. I want to go upstairs and go to bed. I want to sleep and when I wake up, I want to get in my car and go find Vanessa. That’s what I want to do. Am I going to get that? No, of course not.
“Let’s get shit-faced,” Trace says as he hops out of the limo before me.
“Sure,” I really don’t need this. I should tell Trace to go to bed, alone, with respect toward Joanna and call it a night.
“Don’t be so enthusiastic Justin,” he says as he goes to tell the limo driver where to put the thousand and one bags that are inside the trunk. I don’t know how I always end up with extra bags at the end of a tour, but it happens every time.
I’m being rude to the driver but I’ll leave Trace the duty of tipping him when he’s done unloading all my shit. Where’s Rachel? I don’t even know where my assistant is, not much assisting there. And my ex assistant is trying to have party. Great. I. Want. To. Sleep.
“Where’s Rach, Trace?” I ask walking around to the back of the limo.
“She left with Aunt Lynn,” Trace says as he takes on of my gym bags and drops it at my feet. I knew I wasn’t this lucky, I know he’s not carrying my shit or letting the driver carry all of it. I swear it’s the southern thing in him when he’s drinking.
“I’m so fucking beat, man,” I say and I lift the bag over my shoulder.
“Yeah, I see,” he says and I see that he does give the driver money when we reach the door with all the luggage. “Thank you.”
“You can have whoever you want over, I’m going to bed,,” I say when I enter my house and drop the bag in the foyer.
“Alright, but you’re gonna miss out, I‘m telling you. I wouldn’t go to bed if I were you.”
“If you were me you’d be sleeping too, dickhead!”
“Ahh, here come the guests,” I hear him say but I don’t even care. I’m walking up the stairs and I can hear my bed calling me. It’s so fucking loud, that’s how tired I am.
My phone rings and I know it’s my mother and I ignore the call to send her a text that I am home and going to bed. She responds with an I love you and a good night, spelled all kinds of ways. She’s so drunk. Within seconds I’m laying on my comfortable bed, fully clothed, complete with tie and vest. I don’t have the energy nor desire to do anything but sleep.
I must have fallen asleep in a heart beat because the next thing I know, I’m being tapped on my shoulder. My eyes struggle to open and it’s such a high level of exhaustion that I squint.
“Hey,” I hear and even though it’s barely audible, I know who it is. And I also know it has to be a dream because I‘m too tired to believe that it‘s real. But I feel a small tug on the tie that I’m still wearing and I know for sure that it must be real.
“Wake up, Mr. Timberlake,” I hear and I struggle to open my eyes in the dark room. When I do manage to open my eyes wide enough to see, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Vanessa. She’s looking down at me and she’s smiling. Oh God.
“Heyyyyy,” I say closing my eyes again, I’m so fucking sleepy. I want to break way from the exhaustion but it’s too much.
“You’re not coming downstairs?” she whispers and I fight against my eyes to look at her.
“Come here,” I say reaching for her. By the decent amount of skin I can feel, I know she’s still wearing that sexy ass white dress she wore to the party. The one that had me blowing a vessel or two while I discreetly chased her around the place. But she was so far away all night, that I never got to talk to her, let alone feel the spark I’m getting now. She’s so hot!
She doesn’t protest when I blindly reach for her and pull her on the bed. She doesn’t stop my hand from going around her and tugging as close to me as possible. She doesn’t say or do anything to stop me from spooning her and I’ve never felt better. I can sleep like this. I can get used to this.
“Hi,” she whispers and I lift my head just enough to kiss her bare shoulder blade and the back of her neck.
“I’ve been waiting so long to do this,” I manage to whisper back. She snuggles against me, and it’s the last thing I remember because we’re asleep the next moment.
-----------------------------------------
The Next Morning
It’s really cold in my room and when I turn to lay flat on the bed, I realize why. She’s gone.
Shit!
I don’t hear any indication that there’s anyone downstairs when I leave my room and go across the hall to check Trace’s room. There’s no one there, although his bed looks slept on. I return to my room, taking off the dress shirt that I’m still wearing and unbuckle my belt on the way to my bathroom.
I wash my face and brush my teeth as quickly as possible and leave my room in search for Trace. I know he didn’t go anywhere without telling me, so he has to be in the house. When I’m half way down the stairs, I can smell food coming from the kitchen and the first thing that comes to my mind is that Joanna is making breakfast. I am suddenly hungry.
“Trace!” I yell even though I’m on my way down the stairs. “Where did Vane…” I start to ask but when I walk into the kitchen, I see her. Her friend Barker is standing over the stove with Joanna and Trace is at the table, his headphones in his ears as he reads the paper. The women look in my direction and suddenly I feel like I’m interrupting. Barker waves at me and Joanna continue their conversation about eggs or some bullshit like that, clearly I could give a fuck.
Vanessa is standing at the kitchen island, with one of my oversized coffee mugs in her hand and she’s looking at me. She’s still wearing her little dress, a little wrinkled from sleep but her perfectly manicured feet are bare. I’ve never seen anything more sexy. Although it would be sexier if she had on a pair of my boxers and one of my wife beaters. Now that, would be insanely sexy. But I guess, the time will come. I hope the time will come.
“God morning,” she says and I see barker looking back at Vanessa with a smile across her face. What’s going on?
“Hi,” I say almost shyly. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel suddenly hot, my cheeks are on fire and I smile at her.
“I’m HOME!!” the kitchen door swings open and Rachel burst in. I have to chuckle at the sudden double take she does when she sees barker and Vanessa. “Oops,”
“You’re so fucking loud,” Trace says yanking the earphones from his ears.
“Oh shut up,” she says before smacking him upside the head. “Hello all,” she says and closes the door behind her. “Tell me you’re making the Ranchero eggs, Jo.”
“What else would I be making?” Joanna says with a laugh.
“And where did you go last night?” Barker asks and I notice that she smirks at Rachel knowingly. Apparently I missed when they became fast friends at the party because that’s what they seems to be all of a sudden.
I’m still standing in the middle of my kitchen, in a wife beater, dress pants and socks, looking like an idiot. But Vanessa is still looking at me like she’s trying to figure me out or something. I look down at my shirt, thinking there’s something on it but when I look up she’s smiling at me. I smile back.
The rest of the people in the room are arguing about who’s getting the first batch of eggs and all I want is the person in front of me. I walk to my kitchen island and I don’t care if anyone is watching when I take the coffee mug out of her hands and place it there.
She doesn’t say anything but she lets me grab that same hand and pull her behind me out of the kitchen. It’s only a few seconds later that we’re in the living room. ALONE. There is a God!
“Hi,” I say and my right hand is already on the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me.
“Hello,” she says and she smiles at me and I swear this woman will kill me with that smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in a long time,” I say but I’m already at her lips when the last word leave my mouth. She tastes like coffee and I absolutely love it. I back her away from the center of the living room until her back is against the wall and I can’t help but chuckle. She does too.
“What is it with you and walls?” she says and I can hear laughter in her voice. She’s a completely different person, I like this woman.
“If you would stop driving me up these walls, we wouldn’t be in this position,” I say and I kiss her jaw, then her neck and stop at her lips.
“While this theory of yours is interesting,” she says against my lips. “I’m pressing for time, I have to go.”
“No you don’t,” I say and she lets out the smallest moan when I bite lightly on her shoulder. “Where would you go beside to go find the rest of this dress?” I ask, slipping the small strap off her shoulder. She chuckles.
“What’s wrong with my dress, Mr. Timberlake?” she asks, her hands at her hips and I have to step away from her to sweep my eyes over her entire body, lingering at her thighs and then looking at her.
“Not a God damn thing,” I say shaking my head. “Not a thing.”
“I really have to go,” she says and my heart sinks a little.
“I have two days off,” I simply state.
“Yes, I know that,” she says pulling the dress down a little. Did I do that? Why is it that my hands end up in her ass all the time? Well that’s a stupid question, I guess. She’s fucking mind-blowing.
“So you don’t have to work, right?” I ask and take her hand to guide her to the sofas, that coincidentally match her dress, perfectly. How does she keep it that clean at a party and a kitchen?
“Wrong,” she says and although she says she has to leave, she sits on the sofa, next to me. “You’re not my only client, although you might want to think that way. I have other far more critical clients.”
“Was that an insult, Vanessa?”
“No, it was a compliment, actually,” she says with a small laugh.
“Don’t look now, Vanessa,” I say pretending to look behind me and around the room. She does the same and then looks at me with a smirk across her face. It’s not the smirk that I wanted to wipe off her face, time and time again. It’s the smirk that makes my stomach flutter like a straight up bitch. I’m such a fucking loser right now.
“What?”
“I was just warning you.”
“Warning me about what?’
“About the fact that you’re in my house. You slept on the same bed as me, AGAIN. You’re best friend is hanging out in MY kitchen, with MY best friends. And most importantly, you’re smiling. It’s a little scary,” I say jokingly and she actually blushes. I want her. Like, last year, want her.
“Shut up,” she says and she tucks her hair behind her ear before looking up at me. “I have to go.”
“Can I see you later?” I ask before I could stop myself. I’m acting like a lovestoned idiot, no pun intended. “I mean if you’re not too busy or anything, I can come by the office.”
“I will be,” she says and the words aren’t what I was expecting to hear. She’s sporting a blank look and I’m wondering if the bitch I know she can be, is back. I swear I’ll kill her. I will. But then she smiles at me again. Oh. God. “But if you think watching me do paperwork is what you want to do on your first day off, in three months, then suit yourself.”
“V, you ready?” Barker comes into the living room like she’s been to the place a million times. Oddly enough, I don’t mind.
“Yeah,” Vanessa says to her and gets up from the sofa and the angel in white is gone.
“Why do you have to leave so soon?” Rachel comes into the living room, followed by Trace and Joanna. “We haven’t even eaten yet, Supermodel.”
“Supermodel?” I ask because this whole display of friendships is quite confusing. When did this group form? I’m positive it was during my party when my sole focus was on Vanessa Martinez.
“That’s what she is,” Rachel says with a shrug.
“I am not,” Barker says with a laugh. “Your cousin is a trip, Justin.”
“She’s a trip alright,” I say swinging a pillow at the said cousin. She ducks and it hits Trace on the back of the head as he and Joanna look for a movie in the DVD cabinet. He puts his middle finger up in the air and Joanna laughs. They’re so cheesy. They’re in the same room but they will probably remain there, as if no one else was around. They live in their own world sometimes, I swear.
“This is a nice place you got here,” Barker says and I get stupid shy when someone compliments anything that I do, so I just bow my head in thanks. “The guest room was the Hilton, in my opinion.”
“Good,” I say with a small laugh. “You’re welcome to stay there any time you’d like.”
“Assuming I bring this one, right?” Barker says pointing behind her back at Vanessa, who shakes her head at Barker’s words.
“She’s still drunk,” Vanessa says from where she’s sitting in one of the sofa’s armrest putting her shoes on. “Please excuse her.”
“She’s absolutely right in her assumption, though,” I say and Vanessa looks up at me with wide eyes.
“You’re so ridiculously cute,” Barker says and laughs. “No wonder she’s…”
“BARKER!!” Vanessa yells, grabbing Barker by her arm and pulling her toward the foyer. “We’re leaving now, there’s a car waiting.”
“There is?” I ask because I seem to be missing something.
“I had Lonnie send someone to drive them home,” Rachel says throwing herself on the couch next to me.
“Oh,” I say getting up and following the women out.
“That room is mine, I’m telling you,” Barker says as they stand by the door and I chuckle.
“As long as you tell me what you were going to say just now,” I ask and Vanessa shakes her head.
“She’s full of shit,” Vanessa says and opens the front door before shoving her friend outside.
“You know there‘s a thousand paps outside, right?” I ask with a raised brow and she straighten her shoulders before looking at me.
“No there’s not,” she says confidently. “They should be following you down Hollywood Boulevard by now. It’s taken care of.”
“What?”
“You know for someone that’s been in the business for as long as you have, Mr. Timberlake, you don’t know anything. Haven’t you heard of a decoy before?”
“I have a decoy?” What?
“Exactly how do you think you’ve managed to stay out of the gossip columns these past few weeks?”
“I don’t know, they haven’t been around,” I shrug.
“That’s right,” she says but that’s clearly all she’s offering.
“You’re telling me that there’s a dude, someone that looks like me fooling the paps? How did that happen?”
“Well I don’t know, Mr. Timberlake,” she says with a shrug of her own. “Maybe you should thank your Public Relations Director. I hear she’s pretty good,” she says with a smile and she’s out the door.
But by God, another door has opened. It’s clearly marked ‘infatuation’ and I’m halfway inside of it. Surprisingly enough, down the hall there’s a door marked ‘my heart’ and I don’t know, but I don’t think I’m scared of opening that one. Not at all, actually. I’m not terrified of letting Vanessa Martinez enter and see what’s inside.
Not. At. All.
LoveStoned by Lynn
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