“…So pleaaaaaaase give me another chance / to write you another song / and take back those thing's I've done…”
Justin’s voice echoes off the high walls of the penthouse and he’s free, his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of his voice as it vibrates his vocal cords and the sound comes out clear and strong, almost like it was back when he was at his peak. He has to pace himself. He’d only been seeing his new vocal coach for a few weeks now and rushing into too much too quick could strain his already over used vocal cords. He had to be reminded more than a few times that he was not as young as he used to be.
He cringes remembering once again that his birthday is only two days away, a fact he’d been avoiding for the majority of the week along with thoughts of the ridiculous party that was to be held tonight in his honor. He really hadn’t wanted this to be a big deal but somehow it turned into one and while he’d tried to make the best of it he couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for himself. He really didn’t want to celebrate the fact that his twenties were behind him and he’d been having a hard time dealing with the fact that that part of his life was over. He was constantly thinking back to what it was like when he came into his twenties, how the whole world was opening up to him. Back when he was really starting to contemplate going solo and the possibilities were just endless. He didn’t have that same feeling now that he was coming into his thirties. In fact it felt as if the world was getting smaller and smaller. His parents were getting older, he was getting married, and his career was pretty much dead and buried.
But all that was going to change.
“Little girl you're all I've gooooot. / Don't you leeeeeeeave me staaaaaanding heeeeeeere once agaaaaaaaaaaaaaain / 'Cause I'll giiiiive yooooou myyyyyyyy liiiife / Yes I would / IIIIIIIIf yooooooou would let meeeeeee try to love yooooooooou”
He lets his voice go soft, his mind wandering over all the possibilities that were still ahead of him. The word comeback flutters through his mind and butterflies let loose in his belly at the mere thought. Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe the beginning of his thirties will be a little like the beginning of his twenties. But he doesn’t quite dare to hope. He is pretty sure Amelia’s head would explode if he even mentioned the idea of cutting a record right now. They didn’t talk much about the fact that he’d started writing again, that he’d been popping into the studio to help with some production on Kalaya’s record, spending more time in the rehearsal sessions for Grateman’s tour. He could feel her quiet disapproval when he came home late, or told her he wouldn’t be able to meet her for dinner. He could sense her displeasure. But she didn’t nag him, she didn’t comment on the amount of time he spent in the evening on the piano, writing melody after melody into the night. She was making an effort and while it was slow in coming it was still coming and he knows he has to take this just one step at a time.
“So pleaaaaaaase give me another chance / to write you another song / and take back those thing's I've done…”
“Justin?”
A voice calls from the bottom of the stairs but he ignores it, keeping his eyes closed so he can see the lights, remember the sound of the crowd, feel the energy that he’d been so close to forgetting not two weeks before. He holds onto it, living in the memory as his fingers trickle down the keys
“'Cause IIIIIIII'll giiiiiive yooou / myyyyyyy heart / IIIIIIf you would let meeeeeee start all oveeeeeeeeeeer…”
He pauses briefly and he can practically hear the roar of the audience, feel the lights on his face, hear them all screaming his name.
“Um…Justin?”
“IIIIIf you would let meeeee start all oveeeeeeeeeer…” He trails, never wanting it to end, just like all those nights ago, nights that have turned into years, never wanting to end the song, never wanting to take his bows.
“JUSTIN! ISABEL HAS BEEN CALLING YOUR FOR TEN MINUTES!!!!”
He cringes, his eyes flying open and he does indeed see Isabel standing awkwardly at the top of the staircase, staring across the vast Great Room at him. Her long dark hair falls over her small shoulders, her dark eyes unsure and slightly scared and he’s reminded immediately of Charlotte several months before, standing in that exact same spot looking just as petrified as Amelia’s newest assistant.
“Agaaaaaaaaaaaaain,” he ends slowly, letting his fingers cascade down the keys, ending in a flourish as he listens to Amelia’s bare feet slap against the marble staircase.
“Honestly Justin,” Amelia says and he turns finding her standing in her fluffy white bathrobe, her hair wrapped in large curlers, her face pale and even in only her foundation she holds a particular beauty. “You have your whole life to play that piano. Your party starts in thirty minutes. You’re still in your pajamas.”
“Calm down honey all I have to do is put on my tux,” Justin says, standing from the piano bench and Isabel watches him with slight disapproval.
“And fix your hair and pick out your cufflinks and-”
“And that will all take about twenty minutes. Giving me ten minutes to sit and play my piano,” he says walking over to Amelia and grinning as her face begins to turn red. “Hey, calm down okay?”
Amelia glares at him before gritting her teeth and taking a deep breath. She lets it out shakily before turning her heel and stomping down the stairs. Justin grins. Over the past several weeks he’s been amazed by Amelia’s shift in behavior. She still nags him but will stop if asked. She starts to throw a tantrum but a light chastisement from him and she backs down, gritting her teeth and stomping away to fume in silence until she’s calmer. She still insists on getting her way but will bend, although sometimes still very reluctantly, if he insists otherwise. It’s not perfect but it’s a start and for the first time in a long time Justin feels like this really could be what he wants. That forever isn’t as scary. That Amelia, his Amelia, is finally coming back.
“ISABEL!” Amelia yells and the girl doesn’t so much jump as her body somehow manages to propel itself four inches off the floor before she scurries down the stairs. “Really, I know you’re new but-”
Her voice is cut off by the loud gong of the doorbell, Amelia’s hand going to her throat in surprise as Isabel lets out a small shriek.
“Ugh who on earth would be ringing the doorbell?” Amelia asks annoyed, rolling her shoulders and then her eyes fall on her new assistant who is looking at the door interestedly. “Well?”
“I got it Iz,” Justin says with a chuckle, trotting down the stairs and reaching for the door, listening to Amelia scoff.
“HEY MOTHER FUCKER!!!”
Justin’s eyes widen at the sight of his best friend swathed in a white sheet, a crown of golden leaves encircling his head and his hand wrapped around the neck of the biggest bottle of Jack Daniels he’s ever seen. He does the only thing he can do at the moment. He laughs. Hard. The kind of laughter that sucks the air from your lungs and cramps your stomach. The kind of laughter he hasn’t had in awhile.
“I’m here, where’s the fuckin party?” Trace exclaims, pushing Justin out of the way to stand in the entryway.
Justin wipes at his eyes, still coughing out laughter as he turns and sees Amelia with her mouth hanging open, rage boiling in her eyes. Isabel looks caught between the instinctual urge to laugh and the quiet disapproval Amelia would want her to exude. Trace looks around, surveying the scene and then he frowns.
“What, no keg bro?” he asks and smacks Justin’s chest with the back of his hand. “Fuck I so had your back on a birthday kegstand dude. Even though it woulda been a fucking chore holdin’ your tall ass upside down.”
Justin shakes his head, laughing still and Amelia is standing stock still, her face turning redder by the second. Justin clears his throat, sniffing slightly because while Amelia has been doing her best to keep her temper at bay, it’s still a work in progress.
“You…” Amelia starts and then juts her chin out, taking a deep breath. “You better have your suit with you.”
The words come out quickly and she turns on her heel again, stomping around the grand staircase toward the hallway that leads to her dressing room and Isabel hangs back a beat, watching Trace with curious amusement. Trace looks her over and grins smoothly which she blushes at.
“ISABEL!!!!”
The young girl jumps, letting out a small eek of surprise before turning to scurry down the hall after her boss. Trace watches her go before shaking his head.
“Dude I thought she was gonna fucking kill me for this,” Trace says, reaching down to grab part of his sheet and shaking it out. “You’re right she is making progress.”
“Told ya,” Justin says, grinning happily and while Trace smiles back he can’t help but notice it’s a little forced.
“Erm…here,” Trace says, shoving the bottle of Jack into his hands and shifting. “Happy birthday.”
“Oh…uh…thanks,” Justin says, looking down to examine the bottle and then looks back at him, chuckling once again at how ridiculous he looks. “You do have a tux right?”
“Oh…yeah,” Trace says, waving a hand and stepping back out into the small lobby outside the door. He pops back in holding a garment bag. “I figured if I came in with it on it woulda spoiled the reaction.”
“Totally,” Justin says with a chuckle silently thanking God for the goofy bastard that is his best friend.
“So you just gonna stand there and fuckin stare at me or are you gonna open your birthday present?”
Justin laughs. “Yeah come on,” he says gesturing him up the stairs. “I gotta change anyway.”
“Yeah you need your toga!” Trace exclaims, receiving another hearty laugh from Justin as he follows him up the stairs. “Hey who was the cute chick following Amelia around?”
Justin turns to look over his shoulder as they reach the landing and he laughs. “That’s Isabel. Amelia hired her right before Christmas. She’s like the new Charlotte.”
Trace stops, reaching out to grab Justin’s arm and Justin stops turning to his friend and finding Trace’s brow knit with concern. “Charlotte got fired?”
“NO! God no,” Justin says with a chuckle and Trace lets out a sigh of relief. “No Amelia kinda promoted her. She basically oversees the other three assistants now.” Justin chuckles smiling fondly. “I call them Charlie’s Angels.” He sniggers.
Trace stops again. “Amelia has three assistants? Plus Charlotte?” Justin nods, continuing his ascent. “What the fuck could she possibly need three assistants for?”
“Well,” Justin says with a sigh. “Isabel is in charge of her personal stuff, like getting her dry cleaning, making her appointments and stuff, Lauren answers the phones and…” he trails his face screwing up. “Shit what’s the other one’s name?” He thinks for a moment before his eyes widen and he snaps his fingers. “LICK!”
Trace raises an eyebrow. “Her name is Lick?”
Justin snorts. “No! LICK is how I remember their names. L. I. C. K. L is for Lauren, I is for Isabel, C is for Charlie,” he smiles, “ and K is for…Kirsten!” He frowns. “I have no idea what Kirsten does.” Justin chuckles finally reaching the top of the stairs and waits for Trace to take the last few steps.
“That’s ridiculous,” Trace says, slightly out of breath now. “Fuck dude do you really need all those stairs?”
Justin snorts. “For what we paid for this place, yes.”
Trace chuckles. “Hey how’s the writing going?” he asks as they pass the piano and Justin stops, turning to look at his friend slightly bewildered.
He chuckles to himself, thinking how sad it is that he’s shocked that someone cares about his writing anymore. Well, besides Charlotte who’s always happy to listen to him ramble about the latest jam session with Grateman’s band or the beats per minute on Kalaya’s new song. But that was different. That was for his artists. It’d been a long time since someone asked him how his writing was going.
“It’s…it’s actually going great,” Justin says, rubbing the back of his neck as he runs a hand over the edge of the piano. Trace beams.
“Well let’s hear it!” Trace says, tossing his garment bag over the back of one of the chairs. “Hey look!” Trace adds and Justin’s eyes follow his friends to sideboard that served as their bar for when Amelia threw her little get-togethers. “Perfect.”
Justin tenses as Trace rounds the piano and snatches two of the tumblers from the decorative tray and unscrews the cap on the bottle of whiskey. That decanter set was really just for show and Amelia would probably die if she saw Trace pouring them both a drink but it’s his birthday. Justin grimaces. If he’s going to be old he can at least drink out of any glass he wants.
“Here,” Trace says, handing him one of the glasses and then Trace clinks his glass with Justin’s before they both grin and throw it back.
The alcohol burns down his throat, settling in his stomach and Justin smacks his lips, enjoying the taste. He sits at the piano setting his glass on the top, which Trace refills for him like the good friend he is. Justin smiles his thanks and places his hands over the keys, nervousness tickling his stomach just slightly. It’d been a long time since he’d played something new for someone.
“Now this one-”
“Hello?”
He’s cut off by the sound of the penthouse door opening and closing and the unmistakable sound of Charlotte’s voice, slightly unsure, bounces infinitesimally off the marble. Trace grins mischievously at Justin before he bounds over to the banister and Justin chuckles, standing and ambling over with a sigh.
“Hey Char!” Trace exclaims and there’s a slight pause before Charlotte’s coughing laughter echoes up to the rafters. Justin can’t help but smile.
“I’m not even going to ask,” he hears Charlotte say and he can just see her shaking her head, the dimple in her right cheek revealing itself.
But his heart stops as he makes it to the banister, having to reach out and hold on as he watches Charlotte slip her arms out of her peacoat and hang in on the rack, revealing the long white gown underneath. It hangs all the way to the floor, the silk swishing breezily as she moves and he can see the long V of her back that’s revealed as she secures her coat over one of his on the rack. Her dark hair is pulled back and twisted at the nape of her neck, and he loses his breath as she turns finding a few loose strands framing her face. His eyes widen when he sees that the neckline of the dress plunges almost as low as the back, revealing the smooth white skin between her breasts. Her face is angled up toward them now and he literally cannot speak, not being able to tell if the burn in his stomach is from the alcohol or the sight of her. She is absolutely stunning and Justin wonders why he’d never really noticed it before. Sure he thought she was pretty, beautiful even especially when she smiled but he never thought, never dreamed she could be this… perfect.
“You’re slightly overdressed you know,” Trace says, amusement in his voice. “I mean it’s a nice dress and all but you know…” Trace trails, reaching to ruffle the bottom part of his sheet.
“Oh god,” Charlotte says with a cringe as she raises a hand in front of her face, closing her eyes. “Nice boxers, Trace,” she chuckles.
“HEY!” Trace exclaims, stepping back from the banister pressing his sheet to his thighs. “I am not a piece of meat for you to oogle at.”
Charlotte giggles shaking her head and then her eyes fall on Justin who is still staring at her slack jawed. “Hey,” she says softly, bringing her arms up to wrap around her chest shyly.
Trace glances over at his friend and finds a look of awe painted over his face, his mouth open slightly and he knows Justin well enough to know he’s speechless. He sees something in Justin’s eyes, something that he hadn’t seen in awhile and he can’t help the grin that pulls over his lips. He chuckles to himself and Justin jumps as he feels Trace’s elbow dig into his ribs.
“Uh…yeah hey,” he says shaking his head and then smiling, chuckling at himself. “Hey.”
“Come on up we’re havin’ a drink,” Trace says, waving her up and she nods, gathering her skirt in her hands and walking carefully up the stairs.
Justin is struck suddenly by the idea of his wedding, watching Charlotte ascend the stairs towards him, her head bowed as she watches her feet carefully. Is this how it will feel when Amelia is walking towards him in her white dress? The butterflies, the anticipation, the complete and utter awe, which has left him speechless and dazed. His breath is stolen again as she comes to the top of the stairs, slightly breathless from the climb and they’re face to face. Her green eyes glitter from under long black lashes, the fullness of her lips painted a wine red color that begs to be kissed.
He coughs, taking a step back looking anywhere but her. What the hell was he thinking? This was Charlotte, just Charlie and he’s sure it’s just the fact that he’s completely spun about his birthday that has him thinking crazy things. Mid-life crisis hitting early or something. He always was an early bloomer.
“Here ya go Charlie,” Trace says and Justin hadn’t even noticed him pouring Charlotte a drink.
Charlotte takes it wearily. “Is this…?”
“Yep!” Trace says, throwing his back quickly. “Take it like a man!”
Charlotte narrows her eyes at him, swirling her drink wearily before taking a deep breath and tossing it back. She pulls the glass away from her lips, grimacing as she swallows hard and lets out the smallest of coughs, a hand going to her throat and Justin had never quite realized how slender her neck was, how small her hands were, how ringless her fingers were.
“Charlotte? Is that you?” Amelia’s voice echoes off the marble in the foyer and Justin hears the smart tap of her heels against the stone.
“Shit!” Justin exclaims, bolting around chairs and settees in his haste to get back into the bedroom.
“Where are you goin bro?” Trace asks, amusement lacing his words as he tips more whiskey into Charlotte’s glass, ignoring her protest.
“I have to change!” he calls and Trace shakes his head, taking another sip from his now filled glass, the fig leaves in his hair rustling. Charlotte giggles.
“Yes, it’s me Amelia,” Charlotte calls.
“Good, at least someone is on time,” she hears Amelia huff and then the sharp clack of her heels on the stairs.
“Better drink that before she gets up here,” Trace says, nudging her with his elbow and Charlotte jumps, looking down at the glass in her hand.
“Crap!” she mutters, looking around helplessly but there’s no place to stash it and she glares at Trace as he chuckles before tossing the drink back.
The room goes hazy slightly and her throat is on fire, the blaze settling in her chest as she sets the glass on the piano. She shakes her head hard, getting out one last grimace before Amelia crests the stairs. Trace lets out a low whistle.
“Fuck Amelia think your dress could be any shorter?” Trace asks snidely and Charlotte turns, her eyes widening.
Amelia is not wearing the pretty, white Oscar de la Renta party dress she had sent Charlotte to pick up and have dry cleaned only to be altered and have to be dry cleaned again. Instead, she’s wearing a little black satin number, the large sleeves hanging low off her shoulders, the fabric fanning out in a bell shape and swishing down around her wrists. The tan expanse of her long legs climbs from her Christian Louboutin three strap heels, the six-inch spikes pushing her into the stratosphere. The hemline hits her just below the apex of her legs and Charlotte feels slightly scandalized for her but she’s not really one to talk she thinks crossing her arms over her exposed chest. Amelia looks at Trace disapprovingly.
“Are you still in that toga?” Amelia asks rolling her eyes and Trace just grins.
“I’m ready for the party!” he exclaims, doing a little groove. “When’s the keg get here?”
Charlotte giggles and Amelia turns to her, her blue eyes widening at the sight of her. Charlotte holds her breath, letting her hands fall to her sides as Amelia’s ice blue eyes travel from the hem of her dress to the top of her head. Charlotte does her best to stand up straight and not fidget, trying to exude an air of confidence that she wishes she’d practiced more before she got here. After a moment Amelia smiles.
“Well look at you Charlotte,” she says smiling primly. “Lucky your chest isn’t any bigger or someone might get a free show.”
Charlotte feels her cheeks burn crimson as she ducks her head, her arms coming up to wrap around her chest and she jumps when she feels a warm hand on her back.
“Why Amelia, you wouldn’t be jealous would you?” Trace asks, his hand smoothing quickly up and down Charlotte’s back before crossing his arms over his chest and grinning at Amelia whose mouth has parted slightly.
“Alright I’m ready!” Justin exclaims jogging out of the bedroom and stops, frowning when he sees Trace’s hand fall from Charlotte’s back. “What’s going on?”
“We’re just talking about how awesome Charlie looks,” Trace grins his elbow nudging her and Justin smiles at the deep blush of her cheeks, her head ducking low.
“T-thanks,” she replies, a smile tugging at her resistant lips and Justin can’t remember the last time he saw a woman take a compliment so sincerely.
He hears a small huff and for the first time notices Amelia standing there, her full lips drawn in a pronounced pout. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, the jagged layers hanging around her chin and her ice blue eyes shine starkly against the smoky eye shadow on her lids. Her lips are frosted pink as are her cheeks and her dress – his eyes widen.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he asks, before he can stop himself and Amelia’s eyes widen at him, jutting her chin out defiantly.
“It’s Marchesa,” she says airily, running her hands over her stomach, the ridiculously large sleeves swishing noisily. “Don’t you like it?”
“Erm…” Justin says, eyeing the length dubiously. “I thought you were wearing that white one.”
Amelia blinks at him, her mouth pressing tight in rage as her hands fall to her side. Her fists ball and Justin can tell it’s taking all her willpower not to explode. He cringes, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.
“I mean I like that one…too…its just…” he eyes the length again. “Won’t you be cold?”
Amelia snorts. “I have a coat, Justin.” She bristles slightly reaching up to run her hands over her hair. “You look nice too,” she adds sarcastically.
Justin sighs. “Babe you know I think you’re gorgeous,” he says and Amelia’s eyes narrow at him
“Hey, Charlie!” Trace says jovially and Justin’s head whips to his friend, frowning at his use of his nickname. “Lets go downstairs and not be here.”
“Smooth Trace,” Charlotte deadpans, giggling at him as he ushers her towards the staircase.
“Oh no you don’t,” Amelia spats and they both stop, looking at her bewildered. “Go put your tux on. We’re going to be late.”
Trace smirks. “Tux? What are you-”
“Trace,” Justin says and gives a slight shake of his head. He’s pushed Amelia enough tonight.
Trace sighs. “Alright alright.” He snatches the garment bag from the back of the chair and trudges back to their bedroom.
Justin watches him disappear down the hall before turning to Amelia who is frowning deeply, her arms now crossed over her chest. He sighs, taking the few short steps toward her, his arm slipping smoothly around her waist. She stiffens under his touch, glaring at him and he gives her a charming smile.
“You look really beautiful, Amelia,” he says softly, nodding his head to punctuate his sincerity and she gives him a dubious look before squaring her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she says sharply but her tone sounds more like “it’s about time” and she gives him a quick glance. “You look nice too.” Then she pauses as she glances at his face. “What on…” she chuckles. “Are you wearing my earrings?”
Justin’s eyes widen, reaching up to finger the old diamond studs he’d slipped in his ears on a whim. “No…these are mine.”
“Oh,” Amelia says, her voice jumping an octave. “God you haven’t worn those in years.”
“Yeah,” Justin says, smiling in pleasant surprise that she even noticed and then mentally chastising himself for doubting her. She’s trying; he shouldn’t be so critical.
“When were those en vogue? Like 2003?” she prods gently and Justin shifts slightly. He was under the impression that diamonds were always in style. Maybe he was wrong…
“Alright,” Trace says, causing everyone to turn and Charlotte giggles as he tugs at his tie. “You got me in this monkey suit now where’s the fuckin party?”
Amelia cringes, a sweet smile pulling at her lips but Charlotte can see her jaw clenching. “Nice to know that even in evening wear you’re still as crass as ever.”
“Oh you know it darlin,” Trace drawls, smirking at her and she bristles crossing her arms tightly over her chest as Trace sidles up to Charlotte. “Looks like I’m your date for the evening.”
Charlotte laughs as he takes her hand, his lips brushing her knuckles before throwing an arm around her shoulders. Justin eyes his best friend wearily and Amelia looks slightly horrified.
“Where’s Ginger?” Amelia asks, looking from Trace to Charlotte, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Justin looks uncertainly from Amelia to his best friend and he frowns. Trace and Charlotte?
“Oh she’s back home,” Trace says with a sigh. “She said that three days wasn’t enough notice to,” he makes air quotes, “’fly across the country.’” He rolls his eyes. “She’s on this career kick.”
“But you’re still together right?” Justin asks before he can stop himself and they all look at him, confused by the edge in his voice.
“Uh, yeah dude,” Trace says, squinting at him and shaking his head before giving Justin a searching look.
“We ready?” Justin asks, avoiding his friend’s gaze by reaching up to fiddle with his earring. Amelia frowns.
“Are you sure those earrings aren’t mine?” she asks, her face painted in angelic innocence and Charlotte has to elbow Trace in the ribs to keep him from laughing.
“No, I’m pretty sure they’re mine,” he says with a chuckle, reaching up to fiddle with the studs and Amelia looks at him, her brow drawn in concentration as she thinks.
“Yeah but they look like mine,” Amelia says, her voice punctuating the point her words don’t and Justin gives her a withered look before rolling his eyes. Amelia’s hands ball at her sides. “Fine, if you want to look like a girl I can’t stop you. It’s your birthday.”
With that she turns her heel and saunters gracefully down the stairs, her voice raising as she hollers for Isabel and the sound of designer heels racing across marble sounds from below them. Justin looks down at the floor, feeling his cheeks burn and he hears the silent “oomph” Trace emits when Charlotte’s elbow comes in contact with his ribs and he tries to disguise his bark of laughter as a cough.
“Dude…you-”
“Don’t,” Justin says with a sigh, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Just…don’t.”
He turns to stomp down the stairs listening as Charlotte chastises Trace quietly, her heels clicking against the marble as they make their descent behind him. Amelia is fussing with Isabel as the girl helps her on with her little mink coat, Amelia slapping her hands away as she tries to adjust the collar. Why couldn’t he just wear what he wanted for once? She’d already vetoed the first suit he’d chosen for his birthday, and while she had made a good point that wearing a white suit and eating barbeque probably wasn’t the best of ideas he still liked the other one better. That was the problem. He could never tell if she was really just being helpful or if she was just manipulating him.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?” Isabel asks and Charlotte can see the hunger in her eyes, the deep want to be included.
“No,” Amelia says shortly, fluffing her hair in the mirror next to the door. “Charlotte will be there if I need anything.”
Isabel’s eyes fall on Charlotte who is reaching for her pea coat on the rack. She doesn’t miss the slight curl of Isabel’s upper lip as she looks down the tiny slope of her nose at Charlotte distaste painting her delicate features. Isabel is a social climber, hell bent on being Amelia’s pet, hanging on her every word and bowing to her every whim. She thinks that all of this will endear her to Amelia in some way. Charlotte already knows that Amelia expects these things from the people that work for her, that her best efforts often times wouldn’t be good enough and she shouldn’t let that get her down. She’d thought about telling Isabel this but after the girl made Amelia’s coffee wrong and blamed it on Charlotte she decided she wasn’t going to do the girl any favors.
“Surely I could assist you better than-”
“Charlotte!” Amelia cries and Charlotte freezes where she stands, her fingers wrapped in the collar of her coat as she attempts to straighten it. Amelia looks horrified. “You cannot wear that heinous thing over that dress!”
“But it’s-”
“I can’t even believe you even wore it over here,” Amelia spats and Charlotte blinks down at herself, blushing slightly. “Take it off, you can get it tomorrow.”
“It’s fourteen degrees outside!” Trace exclaims but Charlotte shakes her head at him, slipping her arms out of her coat and placing it back on the rack.
Trace looks to Justin as if trying to understand but Justin isn’t paying attention. He stands silent by the door, still brooding slightly. He shouldn’t get so worked up over earrings. But it really wasn’t over the earrings. It was about the fact that Amelia had said something hurtful just to get her way. Although it wasn’t really all that hurtful. Trace called him a girl all the time. But that was beside the point…
He contemplates this on the elevator ride down, not really listening as Amelia introduces Trace to Isabel, a charming lilt in her words as she nudges Isabel closer to him. They step out into the lobby and the hotel patrons’ heads turn, eyeing the group of well-dressed people, the celebrity and the business mogul, the friend and the assistants. Amelia preens under the attention, standing straighter, taking longer strides and he ducks his head, his hands shoved in his pockets. He’d spent the majority of his life being the center of attention but he never could get used to being gawked at. He was forever wondering even while doing the most mundane of things who was watching him, evaluating him, judging him.
Justin’s thoughts are only broken when he hears Charlotte’s sharp intake of breath as they step out into the January night, the sky clear and the air freezing. He looks over and finds her body ridged, tiny goose bumps prickling her bare arms and his eyes are drawn once again to the creamy skin of her breastbone. He snaps out of it as her arms come up to wrap around herself, a hard tremor shaking through her and without even really thinking about it he slips his arms out of his suit jacket, slipping it around her bare shoulders.
Charlotte jumps, her green eyes crashing into his and she gives him a small smile, threading her arms through the sleeves and wrapping it tight around herself. His hand presses to the roundest part of her back, rubbing up and down swiftly and she shivers but this time it isn’t from the cold. She looks down, whispering a quiet thank you and he’s about to reply when Amelia’s sharp voice calls from the curb.
“Come on Justin! You can’t be late for your own birthday party!”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay guys this is a SUPER long one lol Had to split it into three parts so enjoy. And Happy Birthday to Fiance!J and all the !Justins!!!!
Story Tags: fiancej desksex affair love hottubsex
