It’s bizarre being in here and sitting on this chair, touching his things, breathing the same air that he once did. I remember entering this office many times throughout the years but I never once paid as much attention to the space until these past few weeks. And even though I’ve been in and out of this office for a little past a month, it is not until now that I’ve actually started soak it in. I’m not going to lie; I haven’t taken the time purposely, avoiding this feeling that is burning inside my chest as I let my eyes drift around the large area.

My father’s office.

If I concentrate enough I can pick up the scent of his cologne still lingering in the room. It’s not strong and someone who didn’t know my father wouldn’t pick it up, but I do know him and I know him like the back of my hand. I’ve come into this office and been thrown into his work, his shoes, his life in a blink of an eye. It’s exhausting to have to sit here and do what he did to the best of my abilities. Or at least attempt to do it any type of justice. I’ve been trying my best to make decisions he would have normally made had he’d been here. The detail is what has me here in the first place, he isn’t here and will never be again. It makes me sad but I’m trying to do my best to make him proud and even after his death and the feelings that transpired from it, it truly is the hardest challenge of my entire life.

When the CEO of RCA records called me a little over a month ago, I was shocked that he’d been calling me in the first place. Sure, I knew whom he was, even remembered him from various social gatherings at the Martinez’ estate, but we weren’t close. During this conversation, he went on and on about my father and how he’d change the company and how much of an asset he’d been to RCA. He truly seemed fond of my father and I appreciated the kind words. Frankly, I’d been a bit emotional throughout the conversation. He once again proved that my father had been proud of me as he mentioned the high regard in which my father spoke of me and my abilities in the management business. I didn’t know what to say to that, and I also didn’t know what to say when he’d offered me the opportunity to fill my father’s shoes, sort of speak. Yes, Raul Martinez, had been raving about his daughter and hell, I cried again. It feels so good to be able to cry, it’s not even something I can explain. I feel good. He’d even apologized for having started the process of replacing the position that my father commanded for years with someone else. He assured me that no one would ever do what my father did and that he’d hope to find a candidate who could do just half of what my father could. My heart swelled.

I listened to his very thorough explanation to what he was extending to me and how much my father would have loved to have me replace him, even if it would be for a short amount of time. Needless to say, I was a bit hesitant at first because I’d just recently learned that my father had been proud of me for the first time in my life and to jump right into his shoes in the family was hard enough. Not to mention the fact that he was asking me to step into his professional shoes. It took an entire week of questioning myself, talking to those around me constantly, to decide that it would be the honorable thing to do. I think I owed myself the challenge to make my father proud of me once again, even if he wasn’t around to personally see it. I accepted the challenge after a brief moment of silence on my part, of course. And I know he’s looking down on me as I scan the book shelf behind his desk.

I smile at the picture of Brian, Barker and I in front of Cinderella’s Castle at Disney World during Barker‘s birthday trip. I remember that day as if it were yesterday and what I hold dear to my heart was those rides my father and I took by ourselves on that trip. I think he started calling me Princess after that. On the wall on the opposite side of his desk, there’s a large frame with Barker’s cover of Vogue and next to it, my cover of Harper’s Bazaar. There’s an equally large frame with a picture of Brian right after he’d been promoted. He really had been proud and the thought makes me smile once again.

“Que usted cree, Senorita Martinez?” Yes, I’ve been daydreaming a bit while on conference call with various record execs. But I will not apologize for thinking about my father, I refuse. It’s the longest amount of time I’ve had without having to speak in over a month and it was due.

“Bueno si el Senor Iglesia,” I’ve had to brush up on my Spanish quite a bit since I’ve been here and I never realized how much of it I still remembered. I haven’t had many conversations in Spanish other than when I speak to my father’s side of the family, maybe once a year. If that. “Se decide completar el contrato con RCA, podemos seguir con nuestros planes para el nuevo disco. Como le mensione anteriormente, no podemos seguir artrasando las reservaciones que hay en el estudio por mucho tiempo,” the door to the office opens quietly and the eyes that peak through it make my heart leap out of my chest.

Justin.

I watch as he enters the room quietly and I smile at him with what I’m sure is the sickest display of affection known to Vanessa-mankind. I put my finger across my lips in silence so that he doesn’t speak and interrupt my conference call. He rolls his eyes and stands at the door, his arms crossed across his chest and I want to leap at him.

I haven’t seen him in six days and yes, I’ve been counting. He’s been so busy with the opening of his tour; we’ve barely seen each other. I managed to escape the chaos that is juggling three careers for two days so that I could go to his Atlanta show. I’ve missed him entirely too much and I’m wondering if it’s possible to fall in love with him all over again every time I see him.

“Como le dije anteriormente, RCA no quiere ver a el Senor Iglesia moverse con otra compania y estaremos dispuestos a cumplir con nuestra oferta. De verdad que seria su decicion pero no queremos precinarlo de ni ninguna manera,” I have to turn my vision away from Justin as I speak because his eyes are about to bug out of his head, the more I speak.

“De verdad no quisiera tomarles mas de su tiempo. Por favor dejeme saber lo mas pronto possible como se va a resorver este asunto. Que pase un buen fin de semana, y hablaremos el Lunes si Dios lo permite.”

As soon as I hit the end button on the phone, I look up at Justin to find his smiling face. He shakes his head and walks slowly toward my desk, my father’s desk.

“I swear to God if that wasn’t the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what is,” And he leans over the desk to place his soft lips on mine with a kiss that leaves me in a daze. “Can you please speak Spanish to me while I make love to you tonight?”

“Hmmm,” I say because I can’t help the sensation that goes through my body as his lips linger over mine. No other part of our bodies are touching and yet it’s the most satisfying touch, I’ve gotten in six days. Six very long, exhausting, lonely, hectic days. I’ve missed him so much. “I’ve missed you.”

“What? Huh? What did you say?” he stands up straight, holding his chest in shock and he looks around the room like the idiot that he is. “You didn’t say you missed me, did you? I mean not the person who said she would be too busy to miss me, right? No, not the person who left the tour swearing that she wouldn’t miss my sloppy eating habits. No way. You missed me? Is that what Ms. Martinez has just said to Mr. Timberlake?”

“Shut up,” I said with a roll of my eyes for his entertainment.

“Why don’t you come around this large chunk of furniture and tell me to my face, Ms. Martinez? Scared?” He’s so stupidly adorable that I want to kick myself in the face so that I can stop smiling. Because I haven’t seen him in six days and I’m dying for his touch, I stand from the comfortable chair I’ve been in for an hour and round the large desk.

“Shut up,” I say as I walk myself so close to him that our noses touch and he smiles.

“Make me,” he says and well I’ve learned how to shut him up and it’s always to my advantage. I place my lips on his and his arms come around me to hold me tight against him. God, I’ve missed him.

“Hi,” I say when we finally break our lips apart to get a breath in. He chooses this moment to squeeze my ass lightly and to wink at me in that cheesy ass way that he does.

“Hi,” he says and he kisses my nose, my cheek, my forehead and back to my lips with a soft kiss, “I’ve missed you too, Vanessa.”

“How was your trip?” My arms are still wrapped around him and we’re both still holding on for dear life because we both know that in two days we’ll have to break apart again. So sad. “Long ride?”

“The longest since I knew I’d see you and I’d be able to do this,” and he kisses my neck excruciatingly slow. “I hate that I can’t wake up with you next to me, V.”

“Please don’t, Justin. I miss you too but you know I made a commitment here,” I say and although we aren’t griping at each other like we were seconds ago, we aren’t letting go. “You know that right? You understand?”

“Of course I do, but can you just do something for me?” he’s still involved in placing soft kisses all around my face and I have to giggle at his silliness. Me. I giggle now. Wow.

“What?”

“Can you turn your cell phone off, computer and anything remotely close to the outside world for the next two days?”

“Why?” I realize this is a stupid question, yes.

“Because you’re mine for the next two days. Just you, me and room service at the Ritz,” and he kisses me so soft and slow that I can’t argue with him.

“Deal,” I say and he lets me go long enough for me to turn everything off in my dad’s office and I’m walking out following him and Eric within minutes. And because Mr. Timberlake’s my client and nothing else, I walk behind him to avoid any talk from the people around us. He’s just my client, people!! Sure he is. Right.

So the Ritz-Carlton it is and I’m so giddy, I can’t freaking stand it.

---------------------------------

Girlfriend.

That’s what he called me just a little over four hours ago when I spoke to him as I walked the chaos that is John F. Kennedy Airport. The word never once bothered me or scared me before because it was never referring to me. At least not in a long time, anyway. But when Justin said as giddy as a five year old at Disney, that he couldn’t wait to introduce his girlfriend to his family, girlfriend being me, well it’s the scariest fucking word I’ve ever heard.

I guess is not so much the actual word that scares me, it’s the context in which it’s used. He’s called me his girlfriend plenty of times and although it’d been in front the likes of Trace or his assistant, the title wasn’t bad. But now, well now it’s a whole new story because now I am his girlfriend in his family’s eyes. It’s a huge title that to be quiet honest, I’ve never experienced. In my only other experience being a girlfriend I’d just been ‘another’ one and not much of a big deal. But now? Now it’s completely different.

I haven’t faced Mrs. Harless in God knows how long, she insists that I call her Lynn but there’s no chance in hell that’s happening. No matter how many times I’ve spoken to that woman on the telephone, she’s not just Justin’s co-manager, she’s his mother. His mother! His mother, whom he tells everything to and his mother who knows that we spent two days cooped up at the Ritz having sex and eating ice cream a few weeks back. His mother! I think I may have a nervous breakdown before this plane ever lands.

I swear I’ve never been so nervous to meet someone in my entire life. I’ve met countless idols of mine, whom I would drool and fantasized about when I was a kid, yet the thought of landing in Memphis, Tennessee makes me want to vomit. Seriously, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. The goddamn butterflies are creating fucking havoc in my stomach. And I swear if it wasn’t because I haven’t seen Justin in two weeks and I’m yearning for his kiss, I would have told him to fly to New York instead. But that would have been stupid of me and irresponsible of him since he has a show going on as I look out of the airplane’s window down at the city lights of Memphis, Tennessee.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, I can’t believe I actually hopped on a plane after another man.  And not just any man, Justin Timberlake at that. I’ve gone completely bananas over this man and I’m not sure I can stop myself from jumping in head first into this relationship. I think I may have already jumped in, actually. And the butterflies in my stomach tell me so as I walk through the airport about half an hour later.

It’s not as busy as I thought it would be but I’m glad I brought two carry-on bags with me instead of my regular luggage. I would hate to walk behind the file of people who walked off the plane before me and try to grab my luggage from the carousel. I’m too nervous for all that shit right now, with my nerves on edge, I wouldn’t doubt if I flipped out on someone reaching around me to grab a fifty pound luggage. It wasn’t pretty the last time someone did that, is all I’ll say.

I’m not sure who is picking me up but Justin assured me he’d have someone there to get me against my better advice. His show is going on two miles away from the airport and I could have easily grabbed a cab. But telling Justin Timberlake what to do and how things are is hard when you stop being the Director of Public Relations and you become the girlfriend. Totally different kind of ball game because on the third quarter of this game, I agreed to let him send someone for me.

I can see a large black SUV outside the glass doors of the airport, sticking out like sore thumb and I know the car is for me. Strangely enough I can see Rachel standing off to the side with Mike and they are both avoiding any type of contact with the two young ladies across them. Why they are standing outside the car in the first place boggles my mind. I silently make a mental note of that and put it away in a mental volt of work as I was instructed to do by dare I say it, boyfriend.

I stop and watch as the young girls stare at Rachel as though she’d grown two heads and I can see Mike shake his head at something one of them says. I know those girls are wondering what the hell Rachel is doing with one of Justin‘s bodyguards at the airport when Justin was on stage at the moment. Curiosity killed the cat, didn’t it? No, ladies!! Justin is not here but guess what? His girlfriend sure is!! I make my way around people heading toward the door and I notice when Mike sees me because he walks a very short distance between me and Rachel to meet me.  I mentally pat his back for following his bosses’ stern policy on protecting his people, his family. The young ladies give me a strange look as though they were surprised to see me, when I walk up to the car and hand Mike my two bags. I want to tell them to fuck off but the professional side of me that hasn’t been eaten away by the girlfriend title, smiles at them.

“You’re missing a good show, ladies. Didn’t get tickets?” I ask with a smile and Rachel looks at me before raising her eyebrow at me in question.

“It’s a great show we hear, but we’re going to Monday night’s show,” one of the young women says but she’s still looking at Rachel weird.

“Is there a problem?” I have to ask and for some reason I have the urge to protect Rachel from those down right dirty looks. What are they, jealous? That’s his cousin for crying out loud! Now, if you only knew the things I have done with your idol, Ladies, you’d burn me at the stake that I’m sure you have in your backyard.

“Not at all,” the girl with the look of death toward Rachel says and she pulls on the other one’s arm. The one being pulled away actually rolls her eyes at Rachel and I want to kick her ass. Who would have thought I’d be sticking up for her of all people?

“You want to retract those claws there, Vanessa?” Rachel says with a chuckle as she opens the car door and hops inside, not missing a key stroke on that phone of hers.

“Did you not see the way she looked at you? Thanks, Mike,” I say as he closes the door behind me. “Little bitch, I hate those girls. I really do.”

“You’re just like him, I swear, it’s disgusting,” Rachel says as we watch Mike get in the passenger side of the car and tells the driver he can go.

“Like who?” I ask as I turn to watch the two girls meet up with three other guys at the end of the sidewalk. Whores.

“Like my wonderful cousin from hell,” she says with laugh as she presses buttons on her cell phone. “I swear he gets more upset than I do when girls act like that. I’m used to it and he needs to ignore them like I do. They‘re just jealous for some reason. I‘d like to see them try to keep up with Justin for a day and see how jealous of my job they‘ll be. They would probably start one of those anti-Justin sites like they have for the Backstreet Boys.”

“That doesn’t bother you? The way they look at you like they want to kill you for being close with him? I would kick their asses.”

“This, coming from the Director of Public Relations?” she asks with a smile.

“No, this coming from the girlfriend.” There. I said it. The girlfriend.

“Ohh the girlfriend. Well then that’s different,” she says and I can tell she‘s trying not to laugh when Mike looks back at my comment. Great, I’m a nervous fucking wreck and I’m being made fun of.

“Do you get off that thing ever?” I ask because I’m trying to get my head out of my ass, and trying to not think about the fact that in just an hour, I’ll be in Timberlake land. And hell I’ve been in Timberlake heaven but not land and I want to throw up.

“Again, the pot calling the tea kettle black?” she says with a raised brow. I huff in annoyance with myself and she laughs. “You’re a losing it aren’t you?”

“What?”

“You’re in freak mode right now, ha!” she laughs and points at me accusingly. “Oh my God, call the press, Mike! Hell has frozen over. I swear if I knew that coming to Memphis was your breaking point I would have told Justin to rearrange that first meeting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders but she’s right. I’m a red-faced mess!

“I’m sure!” she says and she’s still making fun of me with comments about hell freezing over and how great it was. I could kick her, I really could. “Let me just say that you’re going to love my grandmother. Wait until she gets a hold of you.”

“What does that mean?”

“Ohh you’ll see. And here I thought I could come home finally and relax and do nothing,” she shakes her head and is still laughing at me like I’m this big fucking joke. This was a mistake. This fucking sucks balls larger that Mr. Adlers’, really way bigger. “Now I have to be alert this weekend. This will be great.”

“Shut up, Ms. Bomar,” I say just because I know she hates it but apparently the situation that I’m in is so funny, the proper name use is insignificant. Fuck!

“Look at that, just in time, he’s done,” she says and it’s the first time I realize that we’re heading in through the gates of the back lot of the venue. It was obviously closer to the airport than I thought. I could have probably walked here, Justin!

“What?”

“He’s done, he should be coming any second now, knowing he‘s been an anxiety attack waiting to happen since he knew you were coming,” There are busses all around us and one of the doors is open, shining light into the darkened parking lot. “Speak of the devil. Boyfriend. Twelve o’clock,” she says pointing to the door on the far left of the one that’s open and I can see Eric walk out first and behind him I can barely see, but I know it’s Justin’s head. My heart beats fast. I’ve missed him.

“Oh,” I immediately plaster on my confident I’m not intimidated by what I’m about to endure all weekend face and smile. He’s laughing about something one of his crew security staff says to him and he throws his head back with laughter. God, he’s gorgeous. How long does it take to walk fifty yards to the damn truck? Why is he walking so slow? Jesus!!

“Calm down, he’ll make it,” Rachel says with a chuckle and I have to give her a glare that only makes her chuckle more. When did I lose her respect? Oh yeah, when I started considering her as a human being. My bad. And for the love of God, get here already, Timberlake!!

“What up, Mike!” Justin’s head pops into the window next to Mike’s face and he tries to kiss his security guards cheek only to be pushed back so hard, it makes him grunt. But he’s laughing when he opens the back door to the SUV and his smile widens when he sees me. He doesn’t say anything to me, instead he climbs in next to me and catches the side of Mike’s head with his hand. The large security guard turn half way on his seat and points a finger at Justin menacingly.

“You’re fucking lucky, right now. Just wait, you skinny white-ass punk!”

“Words, just words,” comes from Rachel who is still glued to her phone and for the first time I notice that she’s not reading emails and arranging appointments for he cousin, she’s playing a game. Awesome!

“Tell’em, Rach!” Justin says as he finally sits back and he’s yet to address me. Wtf?! “Hey, Joe!” he says as we start slowly pulling out of the parking lot that suddenly is bustling with tour bus drivers, crew member and dancers. “Where did you pick this groupie at? Didn’t I say I wanted a blond tonight?”

“Sorry there Justin,” the driver chuckles and Mike shakes his head.

“I guess a groupie is a groupie,” Justin says with a shrugs and he finally turns to me and winks. “What special talents to you have?”

“You,” I’m about to tell him off for being such a disgusting pig but I’m silenced by the weight of his entire body and he climbs on me as best as he can in the small space and his lips are on mine.

“Three words,” I hear Rachel say in my Justin-esque coma. “GET A ROOM”  and then I hear the chuckles throughout the car. What have I become? Who have I become?

------------------

It’s about an hour drive to his family home and I sit back, with Justin’s arm around me as he tells everyone about the different segments he just filmed for the Ellen show. He rants and raves about how much he loves that woman and if I didn’t know better I’d be jealous. Yes, me. Jealous. But I DO know better and the fact is, Ellen would prefer me. And I’m so okay with that because the kiss on the lips Justin gives her every time he sees her, would have had me over the edge.

“How was your flight?” he asks as he opens a Jolly Rancher that Rachel throws at him. He outs the piece of candy in his mouth and throws the paper at Mike’s head for good measure.

“Long,” I saw and I snuggle closer to his chest when he squeezes me to him. “How did that interview yesterday go?”

“Didn’t do it,” he says with a shrugs and I hear Rachel chuckle.

“What?” I raise my head from his chest to look at him and he smiles at me with a smirk across his face. “What do you mean you didn’t do it? Justin! Damnit, I had to reschedule around your rescheduled schedule for that interview.”

“Can you say that four times in a row? Reschedule around your rescheduled schedule, mouth full.” Oh so he’s being funny.

“Seriously, Justin, not cool.” I reach for my cell phone and find that not only am I getting red hit with anger, but that I can’t find my phone. It was just in there! What the hell?!

“Seriously, Vanessa, chill out,” he tries to pull me toward him and I resist because damnit, this is what I was afraid of. This thing exactly, where he skips out on his responsibilities and I’m fucking stuck between being the god forsaken girlfriend, and the Director of PR. “Are you really going there right now?”

“Please don’t speak to me right now, Justin,” I’m still searching for my phone in my bag and I’m getting so frustrated that I just want to scream.

“Fineeee,” he says and it irks me that I can sense a hint of laughter in his tone, “but just so you know, you better stick with someone in this car, if you’re gonna survive my grandmother this weekend.”

“Ohh not me, I’m just the spectator,” Rachel says and when I look up from my mad search for my missing phone, I notice that we are pulling into the driveway of said grandmother’s home.

Shit.

“Justin,” I say as he’s climbing out of the car and he looks at me with what I know is an expression of resistance. Because  I can so tell he wants to laugh. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

“Yes?”

“Alright, fine. I’ll forget about this till later. Now, don’t you dare leave me unprotected!” he laughs, throwing his head back once again and he yanks me out of the car into his arms and kisses my lips.

“I got you,” he smacks my ass with a groan and kisses my lips again before grabbing my hand. Rachel is already entering the house,  and I can hear the shouts of greeting coming from inside the house. Here I go. “Relax, V, it’s only my family.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I mumble and it’s too late to back out, I’m entering Timberlake land.

Wish me luck, I may just need it.
 

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