I can hardly sit still as I watch Justin close the Rolling Stone and place it down on the table.

“Well?”

He stares at me for a second before smirking, “Beautiful music, huh?”  I grin.

“Yeah, I thought it was clever.”

He lets out a loud guffaw.  “Oh, it was creative all right, Jude.  I think you’ve got this interview thing down pat now.”  He leans over and places a sound kiss on my mouth.  “I thought you did wonderfully, Jude.  And the pictures are hot, too.  They came out amazing.”

“Thanks, Boss man.”  I get a little bit of satisfaction watching him squirm.  I call him boss man out of habit, mostly, but I do enjoy the look on his face now.  If he’s going to insist on calling me Jude all the time, he can stand being referred to as my boss. 

“You need to think of a new nickname for me.”

“Then you need to stop calling me Jude.”  I watch as he ponders that thought for a minute.

“It fits you, though.”  He’s pouting a little.  “You were named after a Beatles album, why shouldn’t your nickname be after a Beatles song?”

“Because Jude was a man and that song wasn’t even on the Abbey Rode album.”  He knows I’m right but he still refuses to cave.

“Sorry, Jude, but I’m sticking with this one.  I like it.” I get another peck to the lips and I sit back in my chair, watching as he stands up and starts to putter around the kitchen.  I love it when he gets bored and wants to cook.  He has some mean kitchen skills.

“And I’m sticking with Boss man.  You are my boss, after all.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me, “So the rumors are true, then?”  He’s got an easy grin on his face and I manage a laugh, but the thought of those tabloid stories still makes me uneasy.  I don’t like people thinking that I might use my friend/boss as a means to further my career.  I would never do something like that, the music means too much to me.  “I was just joking, Jude.”

Justin’s voice brings be back to the present and I give him a sheepish smile.  “Sorry, I spaced.”

He stops his puttering and comes over, kneeling in front of me.  “Hey, I know that this is tough for you but you have to trust me when I say that it’ll all blow over and people will move on.  Give it time.”

It’s been a month since John’s little tirade to the paparazzi and things have yet to simmer down.  I’m being followed most everywhere I go and there’s at least a story or two about me every week.  Nothing too horrible has been said and I’m hoping that the release of this Rolling Stone article will help things go away, but I really can’t take all the scrutiny.  I know, I know, you’re thinking ‘get another job, Abbey’ and you’re right.  If I didn’t want the media attention I should’ve decided to be a computer technician or something equally as anonymous. 

I’m trying not to complain.  Really.  I don’t want to sound ungrateful or whiny about all this.  I am so thankful for the support of all the fans.  I should feel lucky that this is all that’s being printed about me, too. 

I just can’t help the discomfort that comes with the attention.  I’d rather be talked about for my music.  This will certainly teach me to date scumbags like John Woods.

“Cheer up, Jude.  The sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day and you’ve got some time off.”  Justin’s voice breaks through my thoughts again and I shake my head slightly.  He’s right.  This isn’t something to get all upset about.  “Get over here and help me cook, woman.”

I scoff, “I am not your ‘woman’ Justin.”  I love the grin that slides across his face.  It’s a sexy grin.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night in the hot tub.”  I can feel my face redden as he chuckles.  “That’s what I thought.”

“Whatever.”  I grumble, getting out of my chair and making my way over to help with whatever Justin’s got in mind.  Hopefully it’s something with chocolate in it. 

“So I’m thinking that we should go out tonight.”  He grabs some things from the pantry and I hop up onto the counter, trying to stay out of his way.

“Out?”  I’m a little wary of being seen with him in public.  And now I sound like a terrible girlfriend.

“Yeah.  Rachel, Trace, you, me, Sade, whoever.  I’ve actually got some downtime and now I just want to have some fun.  Plus, you’re not scheduled for the studio tomorrow so you don’t have to worry about being up late.”

The man makes a good point. “So were you thinking dinner, club?  What?”

“I don’t know.  I hear that there’s a new bar that just opened up downtown.  It’s this whole sports themed place.  It sounds pretty cool, and we can catch the Lakers game.”

I shrug.  I’m a sports fan, but I’ve never caught onto basketball.  I suppose that might have to change if I’m going to be with Justin for any amount of time.  “Ok, Boss man.  Just tell me what time to be ready and I’ll be there.”

“Great.”  He grins at me and I ignore the annoying voice in the back of my head that’s telling me that this is a bad idea.  If Justin wants to take me out, I’m not going to complain.

~*~

“Could you stop doing that, please?”  Justin’s voice sounds in my ear and I can tell he’s irritated with me.  “No one is going to take your picture, Jude, you don’t have to worry about being seen with me.” 

I snap my head up from my drink to look at him.  He’s pissed, and I suppose he has a right to be, but that doesn’t mean I want to listen to his attitude all night.

“Sorry.”  I let him put his arm around my shoulder this time and I try to relax.  When his lips starts to trail along my jaw line I can feel the tension start to creep back in again.  I know that there shouldn’t be anyone that’s going to start snapping pictures, but I’m a little paranoid at the moment.

“Jesus Christ, Abbey.  If you’re really that worried about it why don’t you just leave?”  The warmth of his arm leaves my body and I can’t tell if it’s that or his words that have made me suddenly cold.

“Look, I’m sorry.  I don’t know why I can’t relax.”  I pass him a hurt look and he lets out a sigh.  We’ve been bickering like this since we left the house tonight and I know that it’s mostly my fault.  I see him take another long swallow of his beer and I wonder how many more before he’s fully plastered.  His eyes are only a little glassy at the moment.

“I’m going to get another drink.”  He says after he’s set his empty down with a thud.  “Want anything?”  I start to say no but he waves me off.  “Booze will help you calm down.  I’m getting you a drink.”

This pisses me off a little but I don’t have a chance to say anything because he’s already moved toward the bar. 

If I actually take a minute to stop worrying, this place is pretty cool.  It’s got a huge round bar in the middle and different sports themes around the room.  There are a bunch of TVs lining the walls and just about every sports game imaginable is playing.  The atmosphere is pretty relaxed and low key, which should bring me some peace but I still can’t get the feeling that I’m being watched to go away.  I know that Justin’s OK with this whole thing, but his career has already been established.  I, on the other hand, am still working my ass off to prove that I’m actually worthy of being called a musician and I don’t need more rumors about me and Justin to take away any of my credibility. 

“Here.”  A peachy colored drink is set on the table in front of me and I force myself to take a sip.  Justin sits back down and I let him put his arm back around my shoulder.

It’s just the two of us for right now.  Sadie and Rachel hit up a club down the street because they really weren’t interested in watching sports games, and Trace ran into a buddy of his so he’s somewhere hanging out with him.  Now I’m stuck here with Justin whose getting drunker by the minute and that’s not helping my paranoia.

“You look nice tonight, Jude.”  His breath is hot in my ear and I force my muscles not to move away.  I’m not feeling the PDA tonight.

“Thanks.”  I don’t really know what else to say.  I don’t want to piss him off even more, but I wish he would understand that this is a big deal to do me.  I sip at the drink again and I have to admit that this is pretty good.  “What is this?”

“Fuzzy navel.  I thought you might like it.”  He smiles at me and I can’t help but smile back.  I am such a sucker for this man and his charm.

“I’m sorry I’m so uptight tonight, Justin.  I’m just worried.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now, Jude.  Just drink your drink and we’ll enjoy this evening.”

At that my head snaps up and I stare at him with a deadly look in my eyes.  Oh no he didn’t.

The glaze that had settled over Justin’s eyes seems to clear a little as he notices the fury on my face.  He sets his beer down and starts to ramble, apologizing, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“You may not care about my career, Justin, but I sure as hell do.  I’m sorry that it’s a big deal to me, and I’m sorry that I’m not being a doting little girlfriend tonight, but you have   no right   talking to me like I’m some stupid little whore.  Enjoy your evening.”

I snatch up my purse and stand from my seat.  I don’t care that he’s drunk and probably has no idea what he just said.  He should know better than to talk to me like that.  Plus, you would think that Justin Timberlake of all people would be more understanding about not wanting your private life splattered all over the headlines.

“Jude, wait.”  He grabs my arm and pulls me back to him, but I fight him off and manage to get away.  I dial Sadie’s phone and manage to talk to her long enough to tell her that I’m leaving and heading home.  I refuse to spend any more time with someone who’s acting a hell of a lot like an asshole tonight.

I thought I’d gotten away from shit like this when I dumped John?

~*~

I thought that my fury from last night had subsided, but the news story that’s playing across my television screen at the moment has brought it back full force.

“Are you watching this shit, Justin?”  I all but scream into the phone.  He’s hung-over and I’m getting a little bit of satisfaction as his headache.

“Yeah, Jude, I’m sorry.”  He whines into the phone but it does nothing to make my anger abate. 

“I know that you may not remember what it’s like to just be starting off in this business, Justin, but let me tell you something.  The LAST thing any artist wants is to be labeled a whore by anyone, even if it’s not true.  I don’t care who starts the rumors, once they’re out there there’s not taking them back.  Now there’s a news story about our little lover’s quarrel and people are reporting that I’m not giving you what you want anymore so you’re looking to drop me from your label.  How is that supposed to help my career?”

He’s silent, which is probably his first smart move in the past day or so.

“I know that I was being paranoid last night, but you had no right to treat me the way you did, and now it seems that my paranoia was justified.”  I seethe into the phone, imagining the sorry look on his face.  “I’ll call you later, I need to cool off.”

I click off the phone before he has a chance to say anything and fall back onto my bed with an angry sigh.

All over the entertainment shows this morning were pictures and videos of Justin and I getting into it at the bar last night.  There isn’t any good audio to go along with it, so everyone is speculating about the fight, but most of that speculation doesn’t make me look very good.

I’m really starting to reconsider my decisions to let anything happen between me and Justin. 

I knew that something bad was going to happen.  I knew it.