"Take a look at this."  Jen tossed a thin, wire bound report on my desk. I recognized the charts and graphs and squiggly lines that made up our weekly web reports. "Wendy just dropped this on my desk."

My eyes skipped across the page and for the first time in days, I felt like smiling. The numbers were up... and climbing. The segments from The XPerience were getting massive hits and leading to other areas of the site, most especially to the product page.

I rifled through a stack on my desk, finally finding and opening the report from the previous week. "Last week we were at half a million hits, which is awesome anyway. This week we're at two million."

"And counting."

I pushed my chair back and stood, walking around to where Jen had propped her hip against my desk. If I thought I could get away with it, I would dance around my office, squealing and crying, but... we were professionals.

"I see a lot of leaps to products. What does retail say about sales?"

"Check the next page," said Jen. Her grin was smug, so I already knew it was good, but I flipped the page anyway. "Hot damn... an 18% increase in Curly alone!"

"Strong, Big, Healthy, Smooth- all of those lines are seeing a double digit increase. The Sexy LA campaign is definitely doing its work. And, if you check the Instagram numbers, they're absolutely nuts, on our page and The XPerience page."

"I've seen that. I've been watching it. I had no idea it would translate to the website like this. So people don't seem to care that they're hocking some product."

That had been Ian's prime concern, one that Ross shared. It was great to see that it hadn't been well-founded.

"Well," Jen mused, crossing her arms over her chest, which was unusually covered in a black lace crop top. True to form, though, her belly was bared and her white jeans were extremely low rise.  "Like I told Ian when he brought it up, their fan base is largely women- who have hair- and men who are somewhere between hipster and metrosexual. Men haven't had wake-up-and-go hair in years."

"Isn't that the truth," I mumbled. A memory of JC and I in my bathroom one morning snuck into my brain. He was seated on the closed toilet lid as I worked a blob of Curly Sexy foam curl enhancer through his hair and then a dollop of Smooth Sexy frizz eliminator and sleek serum. He'd been so pleased with his hair that day that he'd adopted the products into his normal routine.

I kicked the errant thought that I missed him, really and truly missed him, out of my head. I'd taken a chance and risked my heart. It didn't work out. Life didn't stop just because I wasn't "riding the Mustang" anymore.

"Let's go share the good news with Ian. And then knock off early and hit Red Room. I feel like celebrating."

Jen's hazel eyes danced, her smile was wide and I was actually feeling like joining her in her jovial mood. It had been days since the last call from JC. I saw it come in, and then watched it go to voicemail. He hadn't left a message. Maybe he'd given up.

A few hours later, Ian and Wendy- who'd finally given into the smoldering attraction to each other-  and Jen and I occupied a table in the corner of Red Room. We'd already eaten through a bowl of chips and salsa and were halfway through a second one, plus a round and a half of drinks.

"Guys, I don't know if I'm going to make it into the office tomorrow. I can't party like this on a Tuesday."

"Take the day," said Ian, his arm slung over Wendy's shoulder. She beamed while slurping the last of a margarita. "You've more than earned it. We all have."

"Hear, hear!" I announced, raising my glass of red wine. Next to me, my bag began to vibrate. I reached inside and pulled my cell phone out of a pocket. NO CALLER ID, read the display. I toyed with not answering it, but I was halfway drunk and curious. Maybe JC had started blocking his number so I wouldn't know it was him.

"Hello?" I plugged one ear and dipped my head low, to block some of the noise in the restaurant.

"Good to hear your voice, Lena. It's been a while."

I stiffened at the tenor of the voice in my ear. I hadn't missed that distinct Connecticut accent that came out whenever Rex was offstage, off guard, not "in the role".

"What do you want?"

"Well, to welcome you back to LA, first of all. I didn't know you'd made it back."

"I've been back. You didn't think I'd really run away from you, did you?"

A gruff chuckle crossed the line. "You always try to be this spitfire, spicy Latin thing." He sighed. "When you're still really a little Mexican girl in the big city, playing like you're hot shit. Hanging out on the arms of celebrities, trying to make a name for yourself. How're you liking the new one?"

I sucked in a breath.

"Yeah, I know about you and him. I'm kind of surprised. On the one hand, I mean... he was in a boyband. How lame. On the other hand, he does have a lot of money. And maybe a career you can throw in the toilet. I feel like he's on the verge of doing just that. It'll be a huge mistake if he turns down my offer."

"So you knew about JC? That I was dating him? And it's just a coincidence that you offered him work?"

"Did you really think you were inconspicuous? For a publicist, you're so oblivious. People were sending me pictures and reports every day of your cute little dates with him, out with that miniature horse of yours. Practically screwing at the movie in the park. Fuck yeah, I knew about him."

 "So, is the job real or are you just fucking with him?"

"Is that Rex?" Jen whispered, her eyebrows drawn together. I shifted away from her so I could concentrate.

A few long beats passed before Rex answered. "Good question. I could be fucking with him, dangling it out there long enough to get you to dump him for wanting to work for me, like he'd choose you over his career. Then maybe I'd snatch it away once you're gone. Would serve you both right.

"Or... maybe the offer is real. I could throw a little money his way and we could form our own Fuck Lena Club. What do you think he should do, publicist? Throw away his career for you? Or put himself back in the world he used to live in, when he needed a security detail to go take a shit."

"Rex, please don't..." I licked my lips, which were bone dry. I grabbed my wine just to wet my tongue enough to peel it from the roof of my mouth. "I know how you are, how you operate but he doesn't live that your world; he doesn't play your game. He's not on the level that you are. He's a guy that used to be famous, that writes songs and that's it." 

His laughter was so diabolical, it sent shivers up my spine. "It's cute how you're really sticking up for him. You're so concerned about his gentle feelings; meanwhile, we're meeting tomorrow about a song he's writing for me."

"JC is free to do what he wants. I have nothing to do with his decision to work for you."

"Uh huh. But I know you, Lena. I bet you flipped your shit when you heard I'd offered the work."

I didn't dignify the statement with a response but my silence told him everything he needed to know.  "So I guess we'll find out tomorrow how he really feels about you, huh? And hey..."

He belched, loudly, into the phone. "I don't think leaving LA is going to work this time. You'll have to come up with something way more dramatic. And you'll need a bigger comeback than repping hairspray. I mean, my God, Lena. Who but you goes from working for one of the biggest names in music to talking about fucking shampoo?"

He hung up mid-cackle. I stared at the phone for a few moments, not letting myself believe that what had happened had actually happened.

  Jen was saying something, but her voice seemed so far away. It was hard to hear her over the echo of Rex's voice in my ear. I guess we'll find out tomorrow how he really feels about you, huh?

"Lena?" Jen's voice barged in loud and clear pushing Rex's taunts out of my mind. "What did Rex say?"

"He..." I swallowed hard, to get past the lump in my throat. I clutched at my neck, finding it hard to breathe. "He knew about JC. That I'd been dating him. They have a meeting to talk about the song JC is supposedly writing for him. I guess he's really doing it."

"They have a meeting to talk about it... which means he hasn't agreed to it yet. What exactly did he say, Lena?"

"He... said... I guess we'll find out tomorrow how he really feels about you. He said JC had a choice between throwing away his career for me and signing on with him to make a ton of money. That he's about to make a huge mistake if he turns down the offer."

"Find out?" Repeated Ian. "He would have texted you a copy of the canceled check if it was a done deal."

Jen leaned over and laid an arm around my shoulders. "Maybe JC isn't the asshole that we think he is. Not yet, anyway."

"I need to go. Let me out." I grabbed the handles of my leather workbag and pushed them over my shoulder while scooting Jen off the seat.

"What are you going to do?"  she asked, stepping out of my way. I tossed a few bills onto the table to cover my drinks and rushed away from the table.

"I'll call you!" I yelled over my shoulder, heading for the door.

>>||<<

"Fuck! Where are you, asshole?!"

I screamed at the phone, relentlessly hitting redial and then hanging up when voicemail picked up while weaving through traffic. JC wasn't picking up. My texts went unanswered. I'd driven past his house, twice.  The driveway was empty. JC always parked outside, rain or shine, because his garage was full of crap. We'd made plans to clean it out once the weather cooled down.

I didn't know him well enough to know where his usual hangouts were, where he went when he wasn't with me. I couldn't keep casing his house or driving around West Hollywood, hoping I'd see a black Mercedes AMG parked somewhere. He was probably at a studio, somewhere in downtown LA.   

Hours later, I pulled into the parking spot in front of my condo, feeling defeated. Maybe it was a sign. Part of me thought I should just leave well enough alone. JC had made his choice. Maybe I should let him walk into Rex's trap. 

But another part of me, small though it might be, didn't want that for him. He wasn't exactly innocent, but JC didn't deserve what Rex had in store for him. Once upon a time, that man had ruined my life. I knew what he was capable of. Could I really let him do that to someone else?

A someone I was falling in love with?

Barksdale met me at the door, tail wagging, expectant gaze in his eyes. He looked past me, at the spot where JC usually parked and whined.

"I know, buddy," I said, collapsing onto the couch with a sigh. "I miss him, too."