Chapter 46

Somewhere in Manhattan, 11:03 am

Being back in New York is a strange thing.  It was just a month ago that I was here hiding from the world, freaked out beyond measure about myself, about my relationship with Trace, about everyone in the world hating me—about me hating myself.  And now I’m back here, but I’m calm again.  I'm ok.  I'm focused.

Maybe I need to see a shrink.

It’s hot, too.  It’s amazing how hot it is.  Actually it’s not amazing, people just don’t understand that it could be this hot in a northern city.  But it’s August and the sun is reflecting off the buildings and the air is stagnant between them.  There is no breeze, just hot, humid, sticky New York air. 

So I'm calm, focused and hot, but I still don’t know what I’m going to say to her.  I still don’t want to go to this meeting, but it has to be done.  Maybe Angie can help me.   Maybe she’ll be able to figure all this out with me.  Ha, like she'd even what to begin to help me sort out the mess I’ve made of my life.

Maybe I’m just lost.  But it’s ok.  I just have to breathe and stop being weird like Trace tells me.  I smile for a moment. 

He’s, well, as cheesy as this sounds, I’ve kind of realized something in the past few days hanging out with him.  There might always be this weird tension between us and we might not be able to work out a romantic relationship the way we both want it.  But he’s the best fucking friend I’ve had in a long, long time.  And when serious things come before me, he puts all our stupid drama away and listens to me, just like he did last night when I was a little nervous about flying out here.

It’s only been a few days, but I really am trying, and I know that’s a stupid pathetic thing to say, because I’ve said it before.  But really, this time I am.  I’m trying to be more self aware and less closed off, and even though I’ve only really been around Trace, there was yesterday morning when he invited me to go get brunch with him and a few of his friends.  At first I was in my normal bitchy mode, shy and nervous about the fact that I knew these people were judging me and wondering what Trace was doing with a girl like me.  But after a smile and a nudge from Trace, and realizing that these people weren't that bad, that they were friend's of Trace and not people out to get me, I tried my hardest to relax a little bit.

I guess I've kind of opened my eyes and I've realized how fucking pathetic I’ve been.  Even though I’ve put on this air of being put together, I'm a mess.  I've always done this, even before Keith.  I can blame a lot of stuff on him, but I can't blame my own actions.  I’ve come off horribly.  It’s time I stop trying to relive my life over and make up for the mistakes I’ve made in my past and really live my life in the way I want to, without giving a damn about what other people think about me.

And that's my problem, I acted like I didn't care when I so desperately did.

I get it.  I've realized that no matter what I said, how much I preached that I didn’t give a damn who liked me, I did care.  I still fucking care.  I don't want people to think I'm a bitch.  Before, I wanted them to see I wasn’t someone to mess with.  I wanted the world to leave me alone and let me do my job.  I wanted to be so engrossed in my job that I couldn’t think of anything else or how much--  I stop and breathe in deeply. Honestly, I didn’t want to think about how much I didn’t really like myself.

But you can't tune out the world and get encompassed in your job when your job happens to be 100% about someone who genuinely wants to get to know you and be your friend.  You can’t be hidden by your job when Meredith Craven starts to ramble to you about silly things.  You can't be a hermit when someone like Trace Ayala gets curious about you.  And as much as I tried to, when Justin Timberlake glares at you, you notice and it hurts your feelings, no matter how much you try to pretend that it doesn’t.

You have to be a people person to be in this business and I finally get that now.

And so I realize that maybe I shouldn’t be doing this.  Maybe I'm not cut out to be happy-go-lucky and be enthusiastic to meet people and deal with them all the time.  Maybe I need to be stuck in an office some where doing market reports or something boring so I can be closed off from the world.

But I don’t want to be closed off from the world.  I wasn't always like this.  I used to like going out and being with people.  I let some stupid fucking man make me think that I was nothing but shit.  But ya know what?  He honestly didn’t do a damn thing. I could have prevented this myself.  I could have said ‘fuck him’ and moved on with my life, glad I had the bastard gone.  But I gave into it, and even through my change of attitude and my determination to prove him wrong and make something of myself and be successful, I just sunk deeper and deeper into my lonely little hole.

I sigh and look up for a moment at the looming towers above me before walking into the office building where Meredith’s management company is located.  It's a big building with lots of other companies and businesses in it.  I manage to slide claustrophobically into the elevator and slip my hand around  few people to press the floor number I need.

As the elevator goes up and the crowd thins out, I realize that even though I have no idea what I'm about to do.  But I do know whether I beg for another job, whether I beg to be let go, whether I beg Angie to tell Meredith I think she’s awesome and would love to be her assistant for the rest of my life, whether I do any of those things it will be ok.  I use to hate being out of control in situations like this.  And I could take control, I could say, ok yes, I’m going to quit.  But I just don't know if that’s what I want. 

A month ago I would have hated myself because of my indecisiveness, for not being in control and knowing exactly what I want, but now….now it’s ok.  I’ll figure it out. I always do.

I smile.  I guess that's what made things so awkward and tense for Trace and I, especially at the beginning.  I didn't know what I wanted with him.  I mean, now that I look back on it I knew what I wanted, but I knew it would make me out of control so I had to change my entire manner of thinking.  I made a mess of it.

I look at my watch, I have fifteen minutes before I have to be in Angie’s office and I know I'll have to wait in her reception area and wait.  I’ll spend those minutes figuring out what I need to do. I will be ok.  I breathe deep and the guy beside me in a suit looks at me strangely.

Whatever. 

Less than five floors later I’m at Angie’s front desk, talking to some girl at reception who’s typing loudly and staring wide eyed at the computer screen.  She looks up at me for a minute, smiles and I realize I still don’t have a fucking clue what I’m going to do.

I panic inside and say in a forced authoritative tone, “I’m here to see Angie McCrawley…”

“Oh yes, Ms. Dawson?”  The girl stands, still smiling.

“Yes…”

She comes from around her desk, motions for me to follow her and says, “this way,”  before leading me down a hallway to a closed door at the end of it. 

Wow, I'm early.  I expected I would have to wait, but I guess Angie's been waiting on me.  The girl knocks, sticks her head in and talks low to Angie before smiling at me and opening the door the rest of the way.

“Courtney!”  Angie says, getting up from her desk and coming around from it to give me a hug.  I’m flabbergasted for a moment.  Her office is huge, cluttered, the walls are mostly windows but she has blinds shut on all them.  Plaques and Frames of Meredith's gold and platinum singles and albums and a couple other things are lying against each other haphazardly.  It's strange, different, much different from when I have been here before.  The hug is kind of weird, too. She pulls back and smiles at me like we’re the oldest friends. “Hey, how was your flight?”

I manage a tight smile as she moves some folders off of a chair in front of her cluttered desk and pats it for me to sit.  I sit and hold my purse in my hands. 

It’s all unreal.  Whatever happened to the Angie I applied with?  When I came to her office several months ago to meet her about this job the windows were opened, the place was immaculate, she was stern, to the point, not acting as if we were long lost friends.

And she didn’t fly me first class for that interview either.  When I called and told her I wanted to meet with her last week she was indifferent about it at first, then called me several days ago telling me to cancel any flight plans I had already made because she was going to take care of everything.

“Um, great.  Wasn’t expecting first class or anything,” I say sheepishly as she plops into her desk chair.

“My treat for doing such a great job this summer.”

I stare at her for a moment.  By now I would think Meredith would have told her I was the worst person on the face of the planet.  Either Meredith hasn’t said a word to her about this summer and especially me ditching her in New York, or she stood up for me and told some pretty big lies.  “Really…”

“Yes…”  She smiles with a sigh, but the more I look at her she seems jittery and my nerves feel it as well, as if this is all some act before she fires me with a big dramatic ending.  “So what’s up?”

“Well…”  I pause, collect my thoughts.  Shit I still don’t know what I want, so maybe we can just talk it out and she can help me move in the right direction—that is if she doesn’t fire me.  She’s not going to fire me, right?  I mean, she said I did a great job.  She wouldn’t have wasted first class flight if she was going to get rid of me.  Right?

“I wanted to talk to you about some things,”  I say, eyeing her carefully.

“About Meredith, right?”  She sighs and rolls her eyes like an annoyed teenager.  “About how she’s all over the place all the time?  I understand.”  She waves her hand at me and leans back in her chair, rocking a little bit.  “It doesn’t get easier.  She’s always been this way for as long as I’ve known her.  Now with that Justin guy she’s off the charts.”

I stare at her.

I just stare.  I’ve never heard her talk about Meredith this way.  I’ve heard her warn me that Meredith can be forgetful or even flighty sometimes, but I’ve never heard her be annoyed with her. Maybe frustrated, maybe concerned, but not annoyed.  I’m wondering if Meredith has said something to Angie to piss her off.  Meredith’s been gone, though for two weeks or more.  “Right…”

“She called and told me that you guys had a big fight at the end of the tour.”  I suck in a silent breath and just stare at her.  So, she knows.  “But she wants to deal with it and she said she was leaving it up to you if you want to stick with her or not.”

“Yeah,” I nod.  That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”

Angie shakes her head and says in a grave, stern voice “You gotta stick with her Courtney.”

“Oh…”  I don’t know what else to say.  I thought she was going to encourage me to quit by the way she was talking about how annoying Meredith was, how she wasn’t going to get any better.  I’m confused.  Beyond confused.

“Look…” In that word I blink and I do look at Angie and I question everything about her in that moment.  She licks her lips and talks with her hands as she leans over the desk.  “She doesn’t trust people easily and she trusts you.  Hell, she doesn’t really trust me that much and, and how am I going to keep tabs on her if I don’t have someone working for me who she trusts.”

I keep staring at her, looking at her, and I speak slowly, “I can understand that, I think…”

She cuts me off abruptly and asks, “Do you know where she’s at right now?”

“On vacation,” I answer quickly.  I figured Angie would know this. She shakes her head as if to say “duh I know that, you idiot” and continues, “The name.  The number.  Anything.”

“Oh…” I say, I didn’t realize that’s what she was asking for.  I’m pretty sure Mere and Justin didn’t tell anyone where they were going, least of all me.  Hell I haven’t spoken to her since the tour. “No.  I mean I have her cell phone number but I highly doubt she has it turned on, if she even took it with her.”

“Hmm…” Angie leans back a little and taps her finger against her lips and then snaps her finger and looks at me with widened eyes.  “That boyfriend of yours, Trace.  You think he could get the number or the name of the place?”

I’m confused, beyond confused and suddenly feel like I’m left out on some big secret.  Maybe something major is going on and I ask, “Excuse me, Angie, is there an emergency or is something going on?”

She answers immediately with a shrug, “Just a deadline.”

My ears ring, “What?”

“Does Justin’s assistant know where they are at?” 

“Yeah, he does,” I say.

She immediately starts rummaging through a drawer in her desk. “Can you find out for me and get the information?”

I’m perplexed and confused.  This whole meeting has turned into something I’m not sure what to do with.  “Angie, I don’t know if-“

She stops rummaging for a moment and stares at me, “If I pay you five thousand dollars would you do it.”

I stare at her.  I can’t do anything but stare at her.  I want to gasp, I want to laugh, I want to say, what the fuck.  But I can’t.  I just stare. 

Because I get it now.  I understand everything.

All of it from the beginning.  Everything I was unsure of, everything I didn’t understand, I do now.

It doesn’t happen slowly, it doesn’t smack me upside the head and turn me baffled.  I just get it and everything is so fucking clear.

“All you have to do is ask for the name of the place and I’ll write a check right now.”

I keep staring at her until I lick my lips and she plops a check book on her desk.  I glance at it and then at her and ask, “Five thousand dollars?”

“I know you aren’t dumb and I know you’re a smart girl.  That’s why I hired you.  You seemed like you were someone who wouldn’t get attached easily and I need that.”  She shakes her head, grabs a pen and folds back the check book cover and starts to write. “Leah was fluke.  It took her years to get what I needed and when she finally got the material she broke down sobbing and didn’t even want the money.   She took off and ran, poor girl, can’t even handle it.’ 

She sighs and says, “Ya know I don’t like seeing Meredith upset.  It’s annoying honestly, but she’s bringing in the bucks now and being with Justin…”  She smiles at me and nods her head.  “The money is flying at us, now.  I gotta keep her out there.  Celebrities without stories are nothing!  She needs a story and people want to read it.  All I gotta do is get the name—get the name and I get someone to get down there and get a story for me, maybe even a picture if I’m lucky.” 

I continue to stare, I can’t believe what I’m hearing.  I can’t believe she’s just going to write me a check for a stupid name of where they are staying.  Ha!  I wonder if I should negotiate with her or something.

This is…I don’t even know how to describe it. It all finally fucking makes sense.

Angie shrugs and says in a sympathetic voice,   “It helps her out too, ya know?  Keeps her popular.”

“I see.”  I nod.  I can’t speak. I can’t say anything else.  My mind is running wild.

Angie stares at me for a moment and then drops her pen onto the desk and grabs her checkbook and holds it tightly in her hands.  “If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine.  But know I can’t keep you around as her assistant if you can’t.  I can find you some other person to assist.  I’ve got connections all over this place.  If you do want to do it, I’m willing to give you a raise and share the reward for any information you let me leak.  And believe me, these fucking magazines pay a hefty price, especially when you get proof of shit.”

I nod again and lean forward on her desk.  “I bet.”

“You’ve been a great help all summer.  The stories I’ve gotten from you all over tour have been fantastic.  After that pregnancy story leaked, I had so many offers from so many companies.  She was hot after that.  She still is hot.  And when you told me how annoying they were being in Vegas all over each other, I had so many nightclubs call me up telling me they’d pay her and me to just have her show up there sometime for a couple of minutes. Your information this summer has been great.  I really do appreciate it.”

Wow, fucking wow.  I just wish I had known.  I fucking wish I had known.  How things would be different now.  I wouldn’t even be here now begging for my job or whatever it is I was planning to do here.  I’d be fucking set.  If only I had known. I shrug and smile back at her, “Well, you asked me to keep tabs so, I figured I’d do my best.”

“You did a great job.”

I nod and lean back in my chair, calm and relaxed.  “I can get you that name, but I’ll need until later tonight, maybe tomorrow.  I gotta call Trace and sneak my way so I can get the name or the number.  I’m not sure what all he has planned today, but once I get it figured out I’ll let you know.”

Angie smiles, rips the check from the book and waves it in the air at me, “And your check will be waiting.”

“Cool.” I smile back at her and grab at my purse.  I need to get out of here and make that phone call to Trace now.

“You have lunch plans?”  She asks me.

“Actually I do,”  I say.  “I’m meeting an old friend of mine to catch up.”

“That’s nice.  Let me know when you get the info.  I’ll take you out for dinner or drinks.  We’ll celebrate.”

I stand up and she does the same, the check now laying on her desk, completely unguarded.  “Sounds good.”

“Thanks Court,” she says, touching my shoulder and then opening the door for me.  She smiles and nudges me a little bit.  It’s like we’re in this secret club now. Like someone’s finally fucking accepted me.  I hate to say it, but it feels good.  “It’s good to have you on board with me.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to be here,” I say.  I wave and leave and walk straight of there, smiling at the receptionist and waiting on the elevator.  I’m silent the entire way down.  I can only think of one thing: calling Trace.

When I reach the bottom and exit the building, I lean against the wall and everything hits me.  I sigh out, “Oh…my god…” and I panic.  I fucking panic and search through my purse for my phone.  I’m frantic and I know I look crazy.  I grab at it and freeze for a moment.  I have to call Trace.

I dial his number as fast as possible and some how, with some new found energy, I speedily walk down the sidewalk.  I don’t even know where I’m going.  I’m just walking.  I just got to go.  I can’t stop. 

“Trace…”  I say into the phone and then groan when it just rings and rings and finally his voicemail picks up.  “Fucking pick up! Dammit!”  I growl and snap the phone close.

Shit, what am I going to do?

A second later it starts ringing and I pick it up frantically. “Hello!”

“Hey there…”  It’s Trace.  His voice is calm, relaxed, smooth, like always, and I try to pretend that I am too, but it’s no use.

Five fucking thousand dollars for a damn phone number...

“I need the number to where Meredith and Justin are staying,”  I say immediately and then curse at myself for asking.  I stop at a crosswalk, waiting with so many other people, wishing I could just keep walking and walking so that my momentum would never stop.  I feel like I’m on a high.

“What s wrong?”  He asks immediately, concerned.  Poor fucking Trace.  If only he knew what just happened.

I close my eyes for a moment and walk across the street with the foot traffic.  “Trace I just need the fucking number.”

“Whoa, whoa!” I hear noise in the background, music and laughter.  He’s hanging out with people and his voice is now quiet and so worried,  “What happened?”

“I…”   I suck in a breath and say, “I just had my meeting with Angie.”

“Oh…”  Trace says and he sighs, then speaks in a cautious tone, “did she fire you?”

I bite my lip and see a bench.  It’s dirty and covered in old gum, and I don’t care because it’s empty.  I sit down and say as fast as possible, “She offered me five thousand dollars to get the number or name of where Meredith and Justin were staying.”

“What?” he says sharply.  It’s quiet.  I can barely hear anything as sirens are close on the next block over.  Finally, I hear him asks, “Courtney, are you…”

“Yes Trace, I’m fucking serious.”  I ramble, I can’t stop it.  My mind and heart are going crazy, only not stopping, thinking in overdrive and my heart is beating rapidly and hard in my chest.  I feel like I just ran  twenty blocks.  

“I’ve gotta let Meredith know that, that it’s been Angie this whole fucking time.  She even admitted to me that with Leah it was her.  She fucking like blackmailed her I’m sure.  Oh my god, I just have to let Meredith know that her fucking manager has been leaking shit her entire career and oh my god, Trace.  Oh my god I did, too!  I was leaking every time...”

“Courtney…” I hear him say calmly and I lean forward on the bench and hold my head in my hands, keeping the phone by my ear.  His voice is the only thing that’s keeping me in check right now.  I can’t.  I just can’t believe that it was her this whole time.  And I was so stupid, so fucking stupid to rat to her about everything.  At least I know now, at least I can try to do something to stop this.  I gotta stop this.  “You need to fucking calm down.  Slow down.”

“She asked me to keep tabs on Meredith this summer and I did.  I did a damn good job.  Every time I thought I was just venting to Angie, or letting her know how Meredith or Justin were doing I thought, well I thought I was being a friend, being helpful.  Angie acted sometimes like we were friends, like she was so concerned about Meredith.  Meredith never told Angie any of the crap that would happen on tour and wouldn’t open to up to her, so I figured it was my job to help that gap.  I figured it was Angie’s responsibility to know.”

Trace is quiet and says slowly, “So you told her about the pregnancy and about …”

“Everything,”  I say.  I feel like I might cry.  I can’t believe that I did that without realizing it, without even thinking about how Meredith might feel about her manager knowing everything about her.  “Everyday on tour I called her at 10 in the morning and right before Meredith took the stage.  Everyday Trace!”

“Yeah,” he speaks slowly, like he’s thinking very hard.  “Now that you talk about it I remember you talking to her at least twice a day.”

“I’m a fucking fool.  Meredith’s going to hate me, even more than she does now.  Oh god Trace, Justin’s going to...”

“Do nothing to you,” he says interrupting me.  “Except maybe…”  He pauses. “Look, just breathe.  Did you freak out when she told you?”

“No, I …” I laugh at myself for trying to be all incognito about it.  “I tried to act like I was into it and a part of it and going to get her the information, because I knew if I freaked out on her she’d somehow backstab me against Meredith and she needs to know the truth.  So I lied and told Angie I’d have the info for her by tomorrow morning.”

‘Look, I can be there in four hours or so.”

I shake my head and push myself up off the bench and keep walking, slowly this time, only paying attention to his voice, “Trace no.  You don’t have to.”

“You’re freaking out,” he says with a calm laugh.  “You need me there and hell, I think I need to see you in person and talk about this.  And we need to talk about this with Meredith and Justin, immediately.  Johnny’s in his office in New York this week anyway.  I can talk with him about it, too.  If this is what is going on, if Angie has been doing this bull shit, then we’re going to fix it as soon as possible.  It’ll take you longer to get a ticket and fly back to LA and the last thing I want right now is for Meredith’s manager to figure out that you are going to tell Meredith.  She needs to think that Meredith is in the dark about this for as long as possible.  There’s going to be repercussions here, money, lawyers, a lot of bull shit if she has time to plan this against you.”

I take a breath.  Maybe I’m acting silly.  It’s not a big deal.  Just Angie being a money hungry bitch.  That’s all.  It has little to do with me.  I was quitting anyway, right?  I can get out of this.   “I feel like I’m over reacting.  Like I need to calm down,” I say to him.

“Yes you do, but you aren’t over reacting.  This is major shit Courtney and you did everything perfectly. Fucking brilliant girl.  I’m going to go, though. I’m going to get my shit together and I’ll be there as soon as I can, alright?  I’ll keep you posted and I’ll call you later and we’ll meet up.”

I laugh, and I realize I’m not being silly.  Because despite everything I’ve ever said, I do care about Meredith and maybe part of me even cares a little tiny bit about Justin, maybe not.  Still, they don’t deserve this.  And now, to know that Angie’s bull shit, and her lies made this summer really rocky for me, well it fucking hurts me.  If only she wasn’t trying to sell Meredith as a tabloid celebrity, then maybe Justin wouldn’t have hated me. Maybe everything would have worked out.

But she was the one that hired me.  And now, I’m going to be the one to fix this.  I have to fucking fix this no matter how messy it’s going to be.

I need Trace here.  I need him here to tell me what to do.  “What the hell am I supposed to do for the next few hours?”

“Go …I don’t know, shop,” he laughs and then says, “or I don’t know Courtney.  Go back to the hotel, have a drink, watch some TV or a movie and I’ll call you as soon as I land.  Don’t call anyone, don’t freak out.  Just wait for me, ok?”

I suck in a breath and realize that I’m going the exact opposite direction of my hotel.  I turn around and say calmingly, “And then we’ll call Meredith?”

“Yeah.  We’ll call them together, ok?”

“Ok…”  I say, feeling my heart beat slow.

“Courtney…”  Trace says.  I answer “uh huh” and replies into the phone with a deep laugh, “You just did the coolest thing ever.  You’re like a super hero and some little detective and it’s really sexy.” 

“Shut up,” I say and roll my eyes, feeling my chest tighten a little at his flirting.

“You like it.”  He teases and I smile slightly.  “I’m gonna go get my shit together.”

“Ok.”

“Breathe Court…”  I can see him smiling, thousands of miles away and I can see him smiling at me.  And no matter what kind of mind fuck I just had, or how paranoid or out of control I am right now, I still fucking took control and Trace is coming to see me, and I’m ok with myself.

And I’m smiling back at him.

“I am….”  I say. I hang up and I keep walking.  My thoughts won’t stop and soon my smile falls and I nibble on my bottom lip until it’s raw.

But then I start smiling again, because I’m going to be ok.  Meredith is going to be ok.  This will all work out.  And…and Trace is coming here.

I know I could be wrong, I know this might blow up in my face, but still.  Trace is coming to see me.

And I’ll be ok.