‘SHE IS THE DANCING QQQUUUEEEN. YOUNG AND SWEET ONLY – ‘

I grabbed my phone and sat up, eyes still closed, and answered groggily, ‘Good morning and thank you for calling Bender, Klein, and Associates. How may I help you?’

‘Em, babe, it’s me. Where are you?’

‘Hmm?’

‘The phones have been ringing nonstop all morning and I’ve been trying to cover for you, but, honey, I have a job to do. And soon, Mr. Happy Hands is gonna notice that his favorite asset is missing.’

Pause. Sorry, how rude of me not to introduce myself. Hello, my name is Emma Porter and currently my life is spiraling into disaster. The melodic tenor on the other end of the line is my one of my best friends and temporary roommate, James, who I met working at, you guessed it, Bender, Klein, and Associates law firm where we both work as administrative assistants to the head honchos. He and Jennifer, my actress by day- bartender by night best friend/roommate act as my stand in family (think Sex and the City minus the money and the glamour and Sarah Jessica Parker) and I couldn’t imagine my life in LA without them. Now, back to the situation at hand:

‘Wait. What?’

‘Emma, baby, wake up. It’s 9:30. You’re late. Where are you?’

My eyes flew open as I hit the ‘End’ button.

‘FUCK!’

The only thing my boss, the Klein in Bender, Klein, and Associates (aka Mr. Happy Hands) loves more than money and glancing down my shirt in the elevator, is punctuality. As a former military man turned hot shot lawyer, the old buzzard lives to be on time. I heard he actually made one of his many ex-wives get a C-section so she could have his only son, a disgusting little weasel, at exactly midnight. I’m telling you, the man is loony and a pervert, but that’s beside the point. Currently, I was thirty minutes late for my dead end job and I was just realizing that I had no idea where the hell I was.

I glanced around the room taking in the pristine white carpet and walls, the baby grand piano in the corner, and the huge plasma screen above the fireplace attached to a sound system that probably costs more than I make in the year.

I slowly turned to my left, then looked down at myself to confirm my suspicions. Yep, I was in a bed. Naked. With no memory of how I got here… Damn.

I looked over again, hoping to see the man’s face so I could at least try to avoid him if I ever saw him again, but all I could see was a tuft of short brown curls sticking up from under the comforter.

Before you judge me, I swear, I’m not like this. I’m not one of those girls accustomed to sneaking out the morning after, doing the whole walk of shame and all that. God, Jennifer’s gonna have a field day when she finds out Miss ‘Safety First’ Emma had an  one night stand. I’m never gonna hear the end of it...

I took a deep breath before inching towards the side of the bed, sending silent thanks to God that the supple sheets (What are these silk? Who uses silk bed sheets?) didn’t rustle when I moved.  I leaned over the edge and scoped my pink bra peeking out from under the bed. Deep down inside I feel a bit relieved that whoever he was, at least he saw me in my sexy bra, even if it didn’t stay on too long. As I leaned and stretched down to reach the strap, I feel the silk sheets start to shift as I fell out of the bed.

THUMP…

My phone goes sliding under the bed as I hear a rustle from the bed above. I peek over the edge of the bed to see that my mystery man had turned over in his sleep and was now facing me. For a second I just sit there, blinking at the man sleeping naked less than 3 feet in front of me.

I can’t help it, a whisper escapes my lips ‘Oh dear sweet Jesus…’

There he was in the flesh. The man I had lusted over most of my teenage and some of my adult years. My dear God, I had slept with Justin Timberlake. I had slept with Justin Timberlake, world-renown sex icon….and I couldn’t remember a thing. DAMN!!!!