When life hands you lemons, make lemonade. That’s what Beth said to me right before she got on the phone with my publicist Jack. Easy for her to say, she’s not the one with her ass on the line. Sure, the girls can deal with the thoughts of me being cocky and okay, maybe I went a little overboard with the public display of my breakup with Britney and let slip a few details that should have remained private, but they overlooked all of that because I am famous and was suffering from a broken heart.

This they may not swallow so easily. I was so high during that interview I am surprised they could even understand a word I was saying, since most of them were slurred. They probably started the article out by stating my appearance and speech impediment. Fuckers.

I wait anxiously as Beth nods occasionally, her face void of any expressions. I’m dying over here and all she can do is nod? How about a smile or a frown. Ugh. Beth hangs up the phone and turns to me, “Well, Jack just read me word for word what you said. Boy were you dumb.”

“Uh, thanks so much. I was high.”

“No kidding.”

“Can you please get to the point here? How much of the interview are they using?”

Beth sits in a chair across from me and crosses her legs, “They are going to use everything you said to a point. They are going to print that you do drugs frequently, but exclude the part where you mentioned just how much and what exactly you use. Then they said that they won’t take out the part where you said that you slept with the groupies you bring back stage but they won’t mention just how often you do.”

I rub my hands over my face a few times before looking at her, “That’s all you guys can do?”

Beth lets out a angry chuckle, “Your lucky there not just printing the article as is and that we were able to negotiate that much for you. The words your looking for are, “Thank you so much for working your ass off to make sure mine is covered.”

“That’s why I pay you darling.” I say sarcastically, leaning against the chair and wondering what affect this is going to have on my tour and carrier.

“Oh and by the way, next time you tell kiss and tell in a magazine, leave my breasts out of it.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, not following the last sentence.

“You told Rolling Stone I had nice tits. The good news is they edited that part out on my behalf.”

My jaw drops. I so do not remember that. Of course, I don’t really remember the interview, “I don’t think I said that. How do you know I did? Did I say your name?”

Beth rolls her eyes, “Of course not. You said, and I quote, “Yeah, and my new personal assistant, Brianna, had nice tits.”

Whoops.

“In a way your even luckier than you thought, had that article gone through I could have sued you for sexual harassment.”

Beth gives me a smile as she practically skips out the door. Sometimes I wonder how I ever made it through life without drugs. Beth harps on my drug use, but women like her are the reason drugs were invented. They’re made just so you can get through the day with them and their hormones.

________________________________________________________________

I watch as Justin practices his performance on stage. I swear a monkey could do the moves by now if one were to have watched as many rehearsals as I have had to sit through. I know it has to be done at every venue but do I really have to be subjected to the scene before me? Apparently I do, according to the All Mighty. Just in case he may need a water or a pretzel or his cd to lip-sync to, I am here to do his bidding which half the time makes me sick to my stomach.

I was pissed when Jack got to the part of the article about me, but I wrote it off since I had seen him before and after the interview. It’s amazing he was able to stand on his own tow feet by himself.

Gia comes over to me and sits down in the chair, “How’s it going? Golden boy get a kick in the balls when he got into bed with Rolling Stone?”

“Not as much as he should have. They are going to go ahead and print the drug use and groupie thing but will refrain from saying how much he uses or how many he’s slept with. I got thrown a bone as well. Apparently our articulate friend went in there and said that I have nice tits.”

Gia can’t contain herself and bursts out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from disrupting the practice.

“Stop it! It is so not funny G.”

Gia holds her hand against her stomach and doubles over in laughter, “Oh yes it is.”

Tears start running down her face and I try not to laugh at the sight before me.

“Okay Gia, breathe girl.” I say as she finally stands up strait.

“I can’t believe he said that. It’s a complement to you. He doesn’t ogle every woman’s breasts.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought when I heard it, “Gee, he is so sweet.”

Gia smiles, “Hey, he’s never said anything about my breasts. I feel a little neglected.”  

I glare at Gia as the rehearsal ends and I hear my name being called, “Beth, are you listening to me?”

I scream mentally for a minute before turning around and smiling as I walk over to him, “Yes?”

“Get Cameron on the phone, I want to go to lunch with her today at the café on fifth street.”

I pull out the phone and scroll down to her number, “Sure, what time are you available?”

Justin scratches his head, “Whenever she can meet me.”

I nod and press talk on the phone as I call Cameron’s phone. After a few rings a female voice comes on, “Hello?”

“Hi, this is Bethany Addison, Justin Timberlake’s personal assistant, and he was wondering if you wanted to have lunch this afternoon at the café on fifth street.”

“He didn’t call himself?”

I bite my lip, she is totally on point with this one, “Umm, he was busy and had me call you.”

“Phsss. Fine, what time does he want to meet?”

“He said he would meet you at your convenience.”

“Fine. Tell him I’ll be there at twelve thirty.”

I hang up the phone and turn back to Justin who is busy talking to one of the backup dancers. He turns to look at me, “She meeting me?”

I nod, “Twelve thirty. I’ll arrange for the car to take you.”

“No, I’ll drive myself.”

“Anything else?” I ask in hopes of some off time with Gia.

“Yes, your done. Go bitch about me to someone.”

I smirk and catch up with Gia to go have a girl lunch.

________________________________________________________________

I shift nervously in my seat waiting for Cam. I’m not sure what to expect from her at this point in our relationship but I know it is uncomfortable at best. I take a long sip of my beer and drum my fingers on the table. The thought crosses my mind as I check my watch that reads twelve forty seven that she may have stood me up, but after all of this week, she hasn’t given me the impression she would pass up an opportunity to see me.

I see a blonde at the door and I relax somewhat as the waitress brings Cameron over to my table. Cam sits down across from me with a pissed off look on her face, “What do you want?”

“What do you mean what do I want? You’re the one who has called me three times a day for the last week and a half.”

“And you’re the one that’s been ignoring all my calls and had your secretary call me instead of you to set this whole thing up.” Cameron points out.

“First of all, she’s my assistant, not my secretary and second I didn’t feel like fighting with you over the phone. Let’s get everything out in the open now.”

“Still shooting up?” she asks obnoxiously.

I glare at her and now I remember what pissed me off the most about her. The little digs she would make. Cameron never yelled, she was laid back, older, mature. No, when she was mad at you, she played mind games and threw in a few hits below the belt.

Cameron huffs, which causes me to remember the moods she would get in when she didn’t get what she wanted, “Fine. This isn’t exactly the environment I wanted to talk about it but fine.”

I take another sip of my beer and sit back, waiting for her to say something. She plays with the stem of the glass set on the table that contains ice water. She takes a deep breath and looks at me, “Neither you nor I were fair to one another when we were together.”

Not this talk again. Fine, I slept with other women, but she slept with other men and we were fine with that until Cam ran into one of the girls leaving my room. After that, it was all downhill from there. We had a casual relationship that worked for us. It was only until we got heavier that things began to fall apart. It’s then I realize I have been spacing out for a while during Cameron’s big speech.

“And I was thinking that we could maybe try again. Maybe take things slow.”

I throw my head back and punch my palm a little. Cameron doesn’t like the response from the look on her face and shakes her head, “I knew better to get involved with someone who was too immature.”

“You weren’t saying that when we were hooking up.” I defend.

Cameron stands up, “Well everyone makes mistakes.”

I watch her storm out and I motion to the waitress for the check. This is why we don’t work together. I can’t handle anymore drama then necessary. I should have told Rolling Stone to print any dirt I dished on her. I pay the bill and drive back to the hotel to take a nap before I head out to do the concert tonight. I open the door to find Beth arranging flowers in my room.

I drop my keys on the table near the door and Beth turns around, “Hey, these came for you. The card is on the table there.” She says, motioning to where I had just put my keys. I pick up the card and look it over. I don’t have to know who it’s from, I can tell just by the way my name is scrolled on the envelope. Alyssa. The second the breakup hit the papers, I was being courted by every single girl I have ever happened to have a drink with. Alyssa takes it to a whole new level. Apparently she didn’t take the hint the first time around.  

I look at Beth who is getting her stuff together and despite my better judgment, I turn to her, “Look, I really am sorry about what I said to your mom. And what I said about you to Rolling Stone. I honestly don’t even remember mentioning you.”

Beth gives me a wryly smile, “I figured. If I thought you did it on purpose, you wouldn’t be standing here. Breathing.”

I roll my eyes, “Funny. This doesn’t mean that I’m going to go any easier on you.”  

“No, I don’t suppose you would. I didn’t know Justin Timberlake apologized though.” Beth says with a lighter tone to her voice.

“I didn’t know I could either. I guess there is a first time for everything.” I joke.

Beth tries to hide a smile from me, but I’m well aware what one looks like, “Maybe there is hope for you yet.”  

“Maybe.” I muse. Maybe.