The next day, Caroline pulled up in front of a large wrought iron gate at 9:55 exactly.  She shifted her car into park on the hill and fished the business card JC had given her out of her purse to double check the address.  Matching it to the numbers painted on the curb because they didn't seem to be displayed anywhere else, Caroline confirmed she was in the right place and pulled out her phone.

She didn't often text; Brandon didn't have a cell phone at all because he thought they were a tool of the Evil Corporate Empire.  Anyone else she needed to get a hold of, she could just call.  Why JC had instructed her to send him a text message, she wasn't sure, but it took a full two minutes to type out the few words.

JC, I'm at the front gate.  - Caroline

That seemed succinct and professional enough.  So she sent it, and waited for the reply. 

Five minutes later, she was still waiting.  Caroline leaned against the steering wheel and tried to peer up at the huge house that probably waited up on the hill beyond the gate, but her view was blocked by a trail of well-landscaped hedges lining the driveway.  Her phone buzzed in her lap, startling her. 

Who?

Groaning in disbelief, Caroline punched out another painstaking message.  Caroline, your new assistant.  We met yesterday. 

Another few minutes went by before her phone buzzed again.  Oh hey.  Come on up, I'm letting someone out right now.

As soon as she'd finished reading the message, the gate opened as if on cue, swinging aside to allow her passage.  Caroline held her breath as her car inched its way up the steep drive, praying it would make it. 

Finally, the driveway hit a plateau and flattened itself out, leading into a circular car park.  A spacious garage stood open, looking especially well organized and housing at least two flashy sports cars that Caroline could see.  In addition, two more cars were parked in front, a shiny black Mercedes and a dark green BMW. 

Caroline parked next to them, not wanting to know how shabby her three year old Civic looked in comparison, so she exited swiftly.  Birds chirped and the air seemed clearer up here, which was probably why rich people like this chose the area to begin with. 

Caroline ascended a wide, gently sloping flight of stairs leading up to the front door, surrounded by well-manicured planters overflowing with various greenery.  There were no flowers, which Caroline noted was a fairly masculine touch.  The house itself loomed with a certain bachelor-esque air; it was very minimalist and clean looking, modern yet classy. 

She had just reached the top of the stairs when the massive mahogany wood door swung open, revealing JC and a slender young woman wearing a short white dress.  She was tall, taller than Caroline with heels and maybe even taller than JC, her hair a long mass of sun-kissed bronze shine to match her skin.  She kissed JC on the cheek, who leaned against the doorjamb and nodded a goodbye.  Caroline passed her on the way to the stairs, offering a smile, and the girl returned it slightly, not quite meeting Caroline's eyes.

"Morning," JC greeted, gesturing her inside as she approached the front door.  He was dressed casually in those expensive looking distressed jeans and a white t-shirt.  Caroline stepped inside the large foyer, her heels clicking on the marble tile floor.  There was a narrow console table near the door, housing a telephone, a lamp, and a glass bowl filled with keys.  A couple pairs of shoes rested nearby.  Pretty normal so far.

"Was that your girlfriend?"  Caroline asked as JC closed the door behind her.  He didn't answer right away and she panicked, thinking maybe she had crossed a line. 

"Huh?  Oh...no."  He offered no further explanation.  "Office is in here." 

He waved for her to follow him, and Caroline did, holding her purse close to her body as they crossed from the foyer into an immense sunken living room.  Her heels sunk into the plush carpet (white, of course.  Her mother had always told her that only rich people could afford to maintain white carpet) as they passed through the room.  A simple beige sectional sofa took up most of the space,  centered around a wide coffee table.  On the far side of the room, an impressive grand piano was situated in front of what was apparently a wall of glass.  French doors  were propped open, letting in the sunshine from a quaint garden patio. 

JC approached a set of two doors opposing each other, and opened the one on the left.  Inside was a modest, fairly bare office.  Two desks, but only one with a computer, which looked to be a fairly new model Mac.  A filing cabinet was situated in the corner, and there was various other office equipment, a small copier and fax, a printer.  A window looked out onto the backside of the house, a spacious green lawn and a pool in the distance. 

"I don't use it much," JC admitted.  "But it should be sufficient.  This will be your space, really."

Caroline set her purse down on one of the desks, taking the room in.  She could work with this, even if it was in the midst of an extravagant mansion.  The carpet ended at the door, giving way to polished dark wood, so her shoes wouldn't sink.  The swivel chair behind the desk was ergonomic.  Very nice indeed.

"Okay?" JC questioned, and Caroline nodded.

"It's great."

"Good."  He motioned with his head again and she stepped back out of the office to the opposing door.  He opened it and swung it open, revealing a set of carpeted stairs.  "Down here is where I spend most of my time."

She followed him down the stairs and through another door, which had a handwritten sign reading "QUIET" taped to it.  Inside was what looked like a full sized, top of the line recording studio.  A huge soundboard with many different knobs and buttons backed up against a plexiglass wall, which revealed a darkened room filled with various musical instruments. 

"This is the studio, pretty self explanatory."  JC motioned around with his hand.  "Honestly, you'll probably never need to be down here."  He glanced at her.  "Not to sound harsh, but...unless I ask you to come down, it's probably best just to avoid it."

Caroline nodded slowly, understanding.  This was where his most serious work took place.  She'd gone home the night before and Googled the shit out of JC Chasez, and it was safe to say she knew most everything there was to know about his professional career by this point.  Started in the early ‘90s with the Disney Channel, worked its way up to a boyband of colossal proportions (even Brandon had been impressed when she'd name dropped NSYNC), leveled out through a solo recording contract, and now had settled into what seemed to be mostly behind-the-scenes related.  He had an impressive resume of artists that he'd written and produced for, including Basement Jaxx, from whom Caroline owned several albums.  She'd sheepishly flipped through the liner notes on all of them until she'd found his name.

"And if I'm down here and you need me, this phone rings through from the office."  JC motioned to a plain black telephone that sat on the counter beside a huge flat panel computer monitor.  "I turn it off when we're recording, for obvious reasons."

She followed him back upstairs and he gave her a basic tour of the rest of the house's lower level.  She found out that the front living room they'd passed through was so spotless because it was hardly ever used; a more casual set up existed in the other half of the house, closer to the kitchen.  An enormous TV with just about every video game system she could imagine took up the majority of one wall, a comfortably worn leather couch across from it.  A smaller coffee table was pushed off to the side, scattered with papers and books. 

"Kitchen's in here," JC announced, leading her up a step into another enormous room.  The kitchen was as spotless and underused-looking as the formal living room, and Caroline stared around at it in awe.  She thought of her own tiny apartment kitchen, estimating it to be about roughly the size of JC's counter island. 

"This is...wow."  She touched the granite countertop lightly and sighed.  "Really nice."

JC laughed at her.  "All this, and the kitchen is what throws you for a loop?"

His laugh was kind of goofy sounding and made him seem a bit more human to Caroline.  "I like to cook."

"Yeah?  Well, feel free to use this for whatever."  He shrugged and opened up the large subzero stainless steel fridge, revealing it's sparse contents.  "I mean, you're free to eat whatever you can find, but I don't cook at all really.  It's a lot of processed food, unfortunately.  Whatever's easy."

"Actually, if you don't mind," Caroline began slowly.  "I'll probably bring my lunch with me most days.  I'm a vegan, so I doubt I can eat anything you have."

JC's eyebrows raised.  "Oh.  Interesting."  He motioned towards the empty fridge again.  "Fill this up with whatever you need, then.  Clearly I'm not using it much."

He closed the fridge and leaned against the island opposite of her.  "And that's pretty much the house.  There's upstairs, too, but all that's up there are bedrooms.  Mine, and a couple guestrooms, which are really just filled with junk."  He paused.  "Do you live far?"

Caroline shook her head.  "Um, no.  I live downtown, so...it's about a fifteen minute drive."

JC nodded, rubbing his chin.  Now that Caroline looked at him up close, it was apparent he hadn't shaved in a few days.  "Not bad.  You're okay working here, then?"

"Sure."

"Good.  I guess I could have a fancy office somewhere, but I don't really see the point, since I do most of my work here from home.  It only makes sense that you'd do all of your work here as well.  Speaking of work, did Kevin talk you through any major details yesterday?"

"Not really," Caroline admitted, and JC motioned for her to take a seat at one of the barstools.

He gave her a basic rundown of what her position would entail, laying everything out in a very matter of fact way.  Though her main job would be to organize and keep track of his schedule, he also expected her to keep pretty much every area of his life harmonized as well.  While he had a housekeeper, JC admitted it may come down to her having to do some of his laundry in a pinch.

"I hope you're okay with that," he said, not sounding very apologetic about the fact.  "It's just that I know it's bound to happen a couple times."

As he spoke, Caroline recalled what Kevin had said the day before about his particular nature, and she could see it shining through.  While he had a certain lackadaisical element to him, JC was clearly fairly regimented when it came to work-related matters.  He had a lot of expectations for her, from making sure his bills were paid on time to reminding him to call his mom.  Caroline thought that maybe she should be taking notes, but she didn't want to interrupt his flow.

JC asked her something surprising then, which made Caroline sit up straighter in concern.

"Did Kevin tell you about any of my past assistants?"

Caroline shook her head.  "No, I don't think so."

JC leaned against the counter with a sigh and a roll of his eyes.  "That's a first."  He scratched at a non-existent speck on the granite.  "I've been through a lot of assistants in the past three years, and he tends to give out fair warning about that."

"Oh."  Caroline swallowed, suddenly feeling disheartened.  After she'd finally gotten a job and blown Brandon's mind with her announced salary last night, now she was learning just how soon it would be until she lost it?

"Don't be nervous," JC said, not sounding reassuring at all.  "I just like things a specific way, and...some people can't handle that.  I guess I can be a dick about stuff sometimes, but you really just have to tell me that I'm being ridiculous." 

"And then you'll either agree or fire me?"  Caroline said, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, pretty much."  He looked at her suddenly, as if he was seeing her for the first time.  "How old are you?"

Caroline blinked.  "I'm 25."

He turned his head slightly, as if in disbelief.  "Kevin said you had your Masters degree already?  In business?"

"I have my MBA in Financial Planning."  She was used to impressing people with her credentials, but JC just nodded, looking impassive. 

"Well, you're smart, then.  I really don't think you'll have a hard time with any of this."

He looked at her expectantly then, holding out the palms of his hands in question.  "Everything sound okay?"

Caroline nodded, wondering how far she could go with him.  Well, she'd never find out if she didn't try. 

"Other than you being a potentially huge asshole, yeah, sounds great." 

To her relief, JC just smirked at her comment.  "Perfect."

They ran through just a few more things before JC walked her to the door. 

"Oh, one more thing."  He leaned against the open door and appraised her, his eyes raking across her body from the bottom up.  Caroline shifted her weight uncomfortably; maybe she'd been wrong about the gay thing after all.  And maybe the girl doing the walk of shame down the front steps that morning should have tipped her off to that already. 

"I'm loving this...young professional look you have going on," he said, motioning at her pressed khaki slacks and black linen jacket.  "But, at least fifty percent of the reason I work from home is so I can do a lot of shit in my pajamas.  So, just fair warning."  He shrugged one shoulder noncommittally.  "I mean, dress how you want.  But I'm not going to complain if you show up in jeans, either."

Caroline had spent a good portion of her college career learning how to dress to get the job she wanted.  Her closet was more than half full with a plethora of well-tailored pants, skirts, and dresses.  She only owned about six pairs of shoes total, and four of them were very uncomfortable but expensive looking pumps.  But somehow, the suggestion that she could wear, quite literally, whatever she wanted to work...made her kind of relieved.

"Okay.  No problem."

JC nodded.  "Great."  He snapped his fingers suddenly.  "I guess I'd better give you the gate code so you can let yourself in tomorrow.  Of course, you understand that it has to remain absolutely secret."

Caroline allowed him to rattle off the four digit code, committing it to memory quickly.

"I'm usually in business by 9, at the latest," he told her as she stepped out into the sunshine.  "Of course, you can leave it up to your own discretion whenever you want to come and go.  As long as everything gets done, I'm flexible."

Caroline shaded her eyes from the sun and looked at him as he spoke.  One minute he was a meticulous commander, then next he was easygoing and adaptable.  JC wasn't like any boss she'd ever had before, and it wasn't clear yet whether she was going to excel at this job or fail miserably.

"Okay.  Well, see you tomorrow around 9, then?"

JC shrugged and watched her descend the steps towards the drive.  "Sure.  Later."

Caroline thought about JC as she drove back home, trying to put all the pieces together that made him who he was.  No matter what, she was fairly certain he would drive her crazy at some point.  But who didn't have a boss that drove them a little crazy?  She could deal.

In the end, her mind kept flitting back to those five figures Kevin had scribbled down for her the day before, and she resolved to stick it out for as long as possible.  She was determined, she was focused.  She'd had to work her ass off in school to get where she was now, there was no reason some former pop star should scare her off.  Right?

Wednesday was Brandon's day off from the garage, and he was in the kitchen making his sandwich when she stepped inside their apartment.  He was shirtless, in full on day-off mode, his tattooed back and forearms showing as he sliced his sandwich in half.  Their cat, Moo, slinked around the floor near his ankles, meowing softly as she waited for handouts.

"Hey," he greeted, grinning at her.  "How was the first day?  Done already?"

"Yeah."  Caroline shrugged out of her jacket and hung it over the back of one of their mismatched dining room chairs.  Their cramped apartment was certainly a far cry from JC's mansion, and she sighed, observing it gloomily.  "We just went over some of the basics.  I guess I'll start getting down to the hard stuff tomorrow."

Brandon snorted, plating his sandwich and pulling a bag of chips out of the cabinet above his head.  "But isn't this job supposed to be pretty easy for you?  I mean, come on...it's not like the guy's super famous and busy anymore, right?"

"I don't know," Caroline admitted, kicking her shoes off and pulling open the fridge to survey its contents.  "He seems like he has a lot of crap going on for a has-been."

"Hm."  Brandon carried his plate out to the living room and sat down on their sad looking secondhand sofa.  Caroline had never had a problem with their furniture before, but now she looked at it through new eyes.  Maybe it was time to buy some new stuff, while they could afford it.

"Does he have sweet digs?"  Brandon asked through his mouthful of sandwich, flipping through channels on TV.  Caroline pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and crossed the room to sit on the arm of the couch.  Moo hopped up to sit on the cushions in between them, sniffing in the direction of Brandon's lunch.  Caroline stroked the cat's black and white coat absently as she replied.

"Yeah.  It's pretty awesome.  He's got a huge recording studio in his basement."

Brandon glanced away from the TV to look at her, his eyebrows raised.  "No shit?" he mumbled, swallowing before he continued.  "That's rad."

"Yeah, it's nice."  Caroline sighed and allowed him to tug her down into the space next to him, bumping Moo out of the way with a sharp meow.  She allowed him to wrap his free arm around her, pulling her body against his.  He smelled like laundry soap and oranges, and Caroline closed her eyes.

"You okay?"

She nodded, resting her head against his bare shoulder.  "I'm fine.  I'm just hoping this job isn't going to be more trouble than it's worth."

"Well, if it sucks, you can just quit," Brandon pointed out, and Caroline didn't say anything.  Sometimes he didn't seem to understand that "just quitting" wasn't as easy of a solution for her as it seemed to be for him.  "Wanna hear some good news?"

"Of course."  Caroline reached over to snatch a chip from his plate, popping it into her mouth. 

"We got booked into an open slot at the Troubadour next week."

"Shut up."  She sat up straight, turning to look at him.  "Serious?"

Brandon nodded, laughing as she leaned in to kiss his cheek excitedly.  "Yeah, Dave just called.  I guess the promoter lost one of their bands last minute, so they called us.  I'm stoked."

"That's awesome, Brandon."  Caroline leaned against the back of the couch, feeling as if all her worries about her new job just melted away.  "When?"

"Next Friday night, at eight.  We're gonna try and pack the place out."  He glanced at her.  "You'll be there, right?"

Caroline frowned.  "Yeah, of course.  Why wouldn't I?"

Brandon shrugged, finishing off his last bite of sandwich before replying.  "I just didn't know about your work schedule."

Caroline considered it for a moment, but she couldn't think of any reason that she might need to stay past 8:00 on a Friday night.  "Oh, no.  It won't be a problem."

Brandon nodded.  "Good.  I need you there for luck."  He winked and Caroline smiled.  Even after all four years, he could still turn the pit of her stomach into butterflies. 

"You guys will do great."  She leaned against the back of the sofa, frowning at the squeaky springs.  "What do you think about getting a new couch?"

Brandon looked shocked.  "Why?  I love this couch."  He smoothed his hand over the faded brown slipcover that Caroline's stepmother had sewn to fit over the ugly orange velour pattern beneath.  "What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know.  We can afford some new stuff now, with my job, so I just thought..." She trailed off and Brandon shook his head emphatically. 

"No way.  Quit trying to change shit on me.  You know I hate that."  Caroline sighed.

"Well, think about it.  We could get something new and nice.  Leather," she offered, trying to tempt him, but Brandon just made a face.

"Seriously?  Look at the vegan over here suggesting we get a leather couch."

Caroline rolled her eyes.  He knew she was a vegan because she'd been raised one, not because she was an animal rights activist, but he never missed a chance to rib on her for it.  "Shut up.  I'm just saying, think it over. Change isn't always a bad thing."

"But it usually is."  Brandon sighed at her pouty face.  "God, fine.  I'll think about it."

Smiling at the almost-win, Caroline patted his shoulder and got up to make her own lunch.  "Love you."

"Don't start," Brandon mumbled.  Then, after a short pause, added, "Love you, too."