West 59th, 11:28 a.m.

It’s been a long, long morning. After last night and getting up at five this morning I could think of nothing better than a nap. I’m starting to think canceling those unimportant interviews and appearances was a really good idea. She passed out in the car last night and it was a bit of a hassle waking her back up and getting her back upstairs without her looking like a horrid drunk. In fact, I don’t think she was all that drunk. Honestly, I think she was exhausted. She fell asleep as soon as we entered the suite, sitting down on a chair and knocking out. Teddy had to carry her to bed. Megan went to sleep in Meredith’s bed with her, after saying goodbye to Josh. Teddy went to bed soon after and I stayed up, picking out my outfit for today and getting Meredith’s clothes, which Shanda had already planned for her this week, ready and set up for a smooth morning.

And it did run pretty smooth. We left Megan in the room with the knowledge that she’d be gone by the time we got back. I found out this morning that she’s about to receive her BA here in New York. Meredith was quiet all morning and cooperative. In fact, the only thing she said to me was a question, to ask if Justin stopped by the night before.

She was happy to know that they had shown up, but clearly upset that she was asleep when it happened. I hope she understood when I explained that I had I told him just to go on and get sleep and that they’d see each other the next day. I couldn’t risk him waking her up. When they left, I was closing the door when Trace smiled at me and said, “Nice job.”

I guess it made me feel good to get some respect, finally.

But I know I’m about to lose every bit that I had worked to get in the past 24 hours if this traffic doesn’t break up and this driver doesn’t go a bit faster. I had promised her, promised her this morning, since she didn’t get to see him last night and it was too early this morning to call, that she’d get to see him before they left.

They are checking out at 11:30. And as I look at her, biting her nails, staring out the window with a pale face, I know, if she doesn’t get to see him before he leaves, I’m gone.

And then I guess my nightmare of a week would be over and I’d be back where I was before, jobless, alone, searching for something to do with my time. But I wouldn’t be stressed. Right? Yeah, sure, keep thinking that Courtney. Last night I actually can admit that I relaxed for an hour or so. Once Trace forced me away from Justin and Meredith and her friend I was able to forget about her for a while. I forgot that I was at work. I spent most of the time laughing to myself at how pathetic Trace could be, gawking at women like they were treats in a pastry shop or something. The paparazzi thing stressed me out beyond belief but with his help we were able to figure out what to do pretty fast, and I think it ran pretty smoothly.

I still felt some guilt for not sitting by Meredith and monitoring her. I knew she wouldn’t be able to control herself in public with her new boyfriend, and I was right. I can hear Angie now, yelling at me that I can’t just let her make out with people in public, no matter who it is.

I will have to say though; it’s felt better, the past day or so, working with Meredith. She’s been more willing to do what I ask, less demanding in what she asks and all around more pleasant, more professional, less like a whiney child.

“We’ll make it, right Court?”

I nod at her as she presses a button on her phone and brings it to her ear. She’s been dialing a number pretty regularly since we got back from that last interview. I knew I should have called Trace this morning while she was performing on GMA to make sure everything was set up right. But that last interview lasted a little longer than planned, and there was a wreck, so we’ve had to take a different route back down town towards the Ritz.

“Can you try calling Trace?” She’s panicking and I look at her hard. I start to really feel for her. For the first time since I’ve had this job I see that she’s not just some spoiled, uncaring pop star. She’s scared right now. I see that she’s got a life with stresses and worries and that behind the fashion and the fame she’s got the same problems as other people. I’d be as freaked out as she is now if I were her, if I had a man. But of course, that would never, ever happen. Not since Keith. Never again since that sorry excuse of a man. She’s terrified we aren’t going to make it. I look at my watch, she has good reason to be scared. We’re late. Shit, I really don’t want to see her turn back into that spoiled star if we don’t make it.

But at the same time I really don’t want to have to call Trace and look desperate. Thankfully we pull up in front of the hotel quickly. A three hour break, something I feel like I haven’t seen in ages, is quickly approaching. I smile at her and squeeze her arm for a second, “Come on, let’s get out and go see your man.”

But I see that she’s staring straight ahead of us, and right in front of us is a similar SUV to our own, this one being loaded with luggage. She knows whose car that is and she knows where it’s going. And I know that if some miracle doesn’t happen I’m going to be screwed.

I’ve tried so, so hard the past bit to be understanding and flexible, to help her get to do what she wants and get her work done. Hell, I let her go out last night and that was something I should have never, ever done. She was hoarse this morning, she sounded fine on the TV, but I know that she could have done better, and she knows it too and was pissed off at herself for a good while about it. I’m sure Angie and the label will be pissed, as well.

“Come on, let’s go.” Teddy opens her door and she steps out. There’s a small crowd of fans and photographers who immediately snap her picture. I’m glad she flipped her sunglasses back on before she left the car or they might be able to see that she’s about to break down. I follow her and Teddy swiftly into the Ritz. We don’t stop for anything or anyone. We march right up to the elevator and she presses the up button, turning to scan the lobby.

The door dings and I search the lobby quickly as well, hoping to see their crew. But I don’t and readjust my satchel on my shoulder.

“The lobby, Mr. Timberlake. I hope you enjoyed your stay.”

I think I pull a muscle snapping my head around. But there they are, Tiny, Trace and Mr. Timberlake, staring back at the three of us. Trace laughs and steps out, book bag strap across his shoulder and a phone in his other hand. “Look who finally showed up.” He laughs and glares at me a little.

The nerve of that little fucker! I did everything he told me to. I tried my best and he’s going to scold me all sarcastically. I think it’s about time I tell him what I really think of him.

But maybe another time. I need to get upstairs and get a nap. They’re leaving and I was too late and now I’m going to be hated for life for not being able to get her back in time. I step onto the elevator and force myself back into the corner and lean my head against the marble interior and close my eyes.

I hope I never get to see that little man ever again. I hope he never has advice to give me. I think I can do just fine on my own, dammit.

I hear the doors start to shut. And then I hear a yell, “What the hell are you doing!”

My eyes pop open and I see the doors closing. Teddy, Tiny and Trace are all quickly being blocked from view. They disappear and I look to my right, not wanting to see what’s there.

What’s there is an embarrassed looking bell hop, younger than the one who’s been here most of the time. He’s pressed up into the opposite corner as me and trying to hold the urge to laugh. I sigh and roll my eyes at the sight in the middle of the elevator. I try to look away, I try not to stare, but my eyes keep traveling back to them, like some stupid voyeur.

He holds her face with both his hands and presses his forehead down into hers. She says she’s sorry, he kisses her. He kisses her really, really slow, brushing his thumbs against her cheeks. He pulls away and looks into her eyes and I look away. Something in my stomach churns and I get an anxious feeling. I’m not quite sure. I don’t want to say its jealousy, but…it’s jealousy.

I want a man to look at me like that, to kiss me like that, to mean it. I hope Justin means it for her sake. I can tell she’s had little experience with heart ache. And she’s had little experience with love.

“I don’t want you to go.” She hugs him and I try not to let memories flood me of the last time I hugged someone like that. The last time I begged him not to go…and he went anyway. And he never came back. “I haven’t gotten to really, really say goodbye or anything.”

“I’ll see you soon, I promise you that.”

“You promised me you’d come see me last night.”

“I did. You didn’t wait up for me.”

“I’m sor-“

“Shh…” He kisses her and I glance at the bell hop who’s now biting his lip and trying not to stare. He looks at me and smiles. I look away. “I’ll call you later when we land.”

She hugs him again and I hear her whisper, “Thank you…” Maybe what she feels for him is more than I gave her credit for. Maybe it’s more that just some crush.

Oh god, if it’s more than just some crush there’s going to be drama. And the last thing I need to deal with is drama.

“The tenth floor Miss Craven, Mr. Timberlake.”

“Yes, it’s our floor.” I sigh, and prepare myself to be hated for my next action. But I know I can’t just let her stand there as the elevator goes up and down and let her delay him from his flight and cause a scene at the same time. I reach for her arm and say, “Come on, Meredith. He needs to get downstairs before Tiny beats him up.”

She kisses him quickly and pulls away. “Bye Justin…”

“See ya soon, girl…” I hook her arm with mine to make sure she doesn’t get away. I’m pretty much having to drag her along. She’s turned looking backwards as I try my best to get her to our room safely. I sigh in relief when I hear the doors shut and glance to make sure he’s not standing in the hallway or following us so he can do her quickly before we leave. He’s not and I fumble with the key, unlocking the door and swinging it open. I hold it open to make sure she gets in first and then I close it behind me.

“I think I’m in love, Courtney.”

“And I think your boyfriend is in a hell of a lot of trouble.” I laugh, take off my satchel and sit myself down on the couch as she continues to stand there by the table in the kitchen and stare off into space. I flip off my shoes and pull my feet under me. She looks at me and smiles a little bit. I smile back at her. “That was rather romantic, though.”

Her eyes roll back into her head and she kicks off the heels she was wearing and clutches at the fabric against her chest. “It was like out of a damn movie is what it was.” She takes in a breath and my eyes widen as she stomps around and squeals. She chants “yes” and I start to laugh. But then she stops, stares at me and then runs into her room, shouting, “I gotta go call Megan.”

The door slams shut.

I smile to myself. Quiet, peace, and the possibility for sleep. I pull my phone off from where it’s hooked on my waist and flip it open to set an alarm for an hour. Then, I lie back on the couch and stretch out my legs before curling up and closing my eyes. This nap is going to feel like heaven.

The door opens and shuts loudly and I open my eyes to see Teddy there.

“Oh, sorry.” He steps further into the room, scratching his head. “Is she ok? Everything cool here?”

I nod, “Everything’s great. We got a few hours to relax so I’m going to take a nap. She’s in her room.”

“I think I’ll take your lead.” I close my eyes and hear the door to his bed room shut.

I wonder if I’ll ever be like that again, like how Meredith is right now. All happy and excited and hopeful, about a man. It’s been a while since everything happened and I know everyone has a past and everyone has mistakes and heart ache included in that. But for some reason my heartache and my mistakes follow me and suffocate me and control how I live and what I do. No matter how hard I try or what I do I can’t get over it. Even when I shut everything out, everything, it’s still not a victory over it. He still wins, he still gets the last laugh. He still gets to fly overseas with a woman half as smart as me but less needy, leaving me alone, behind with a crumbled career and without a heart. But that was long ago, and I should be over it by now.

But I’m not.

Maybe this new job will bring new friends, new relationships, new experiences. I’m not planning or counting or hoping for a love relationship from anywhere. I just want to be able to move on. I want to be happy with my life, my career. It’s funny really. I was hating this job, loathing it until about 12 hours ago. I hate to admit it, but that mutant or whatever they call him was right. She was being overworked, and so was I. I needed some relaxation, and so did she. And the fact that I’ve worked with her and worked for her to give her that time, well, it’s made working with her today much easier. In fact, she’s been rather enjoyable to be around. She’s not as bad as I thought.

She’s cute and funny and really, really good at what she does.

I think I might have to stick around a little longer. I’m still not sure if this is a perfect match, or if I can be her PA for long term, but I can handle this and I’m willing to give it a try, to test it out a bit longer and see if I can really do this. My life is going to change in a few days, when we go back to LA and I finally move into my apartment there and I become less of a manager and more of a servant. Two days and we’ll be back there, and all she has to do for the next week are a few telephone interviews. It’ll be nice to be still for a bit, to be back home, to actually have a home.

My phone rings, and at first I think I’ve dozed off and my alarm has already gone off. I flip it open and see that I have a voicemail. It’s later, so I must have slept a bit. I call the voicemail back and press in my code and wait for a moment and finally the message comes through.

“Courtney, it’s Angie. Call me immediately. We need to look back over some of the rules I set down for you.” The message ends and I pull back the phone and stare at it.

This isn’t good.

I don’t want to call back and for a moment I think about just falling asleep and grabbing the call later. But I know then I would look worse. She’s pissed and the sooner I call her, the sooner she can bitch me out and not let her anger stew. I find her number in my phone and press send and I wait as it rings, curling up to the back cushions of the couch and hoping I’m not met with a shout.

“Angie McCrawley…”

I sigh, “Hey, it’s Courtney.”

There’s a pause and I cringe.

And then it starts and all I can do is lay there and take it. “Where the fuck do you get off pulling this shit?” I don’t answer her. I don’t know what she knows, and I’m not quite sure what she’s mad at. I knew from the moment I met her that Angie could be a drill sergeant about things, but I’ve never heard her this upset. Normally, she’s rather jovial about things. Or she seemed so in the interview I had with her. Her tone is strange, way too authoritative. I feel like I’m being lectured by my mom instead of my boss. I don’t like it. “I hear that she went out last night with her friends. And now I have the label calling me asking me why my client is out partying the night before some major morning television event. You’re supposed to be keeping her in line not joining the party!”

“I’m…”

She cuts me off and doesn’t even let me explain myself. That pisses me off. I hate when people don’t let me talk and don’t let me share my side. If I wanted to be lectured I’d go back to college. “And where do you get off not following the schedule? She was supposed to be at that store opening this morning and my friend called me and said she wasn’t.”

Now this is strange. For a moment I’m not quite sure what’s she’s talking about. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” I turn up my nose, she sounds like she’s in high school or something. “One of my good friends runs a music store and I promised him I would have her stop by. That was on your schedule at 10:30 this morning. He called and said you canceled last minute yesterday evening. You can’t cancel! You do not have that authority! Do you understand that?”

“Yes, but…”

I grit my teeth and hit the couch with my fist as she interrupts me again. “It’s promotion week, Courtney. I don’t know how they did things in that corporate office you worked at, but when you’re actually working with the clients you have to follow the schedule and you have to do everything on it. Promotion week isn’t fun. I’m sorry, but everything has to be done. You don’t have time to go get drunk at clubs. That’s not part of your job. I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t sign her up for things that weren’t important.”

“Why did she have an interview at a soft rock station?” I butt in and I glare at the wall, imagining her frizzy light brown hair. She’s gone a little nuts. I think she’s just lost it. Maybe she needs a day of relaxation like I did.

“Excuse me?” Oh, wow. Or maybe she’s just psychotic. “I think I’ve given you too much power. Keep her on schedule but from now I’m going to handle the actual scheduling part. I’m the manager, not you. You assist her, that’s all you do. You help her out, that’s it. I don’t want to have another problem with another PA. Don’t try to act like you have more responsibility that you actually do. Is that clear?”

It takes all the power in my being to just say, “Yes, Angie,” and not anything else to her. I’m about ready to cuss her out but I’m finally starting to like my job and that wouldn’t be the best thing. Of course, now I’m going to hate it again that I have to go back to being a slave driver and I hate that. I hate having Meredith hate me. It makes things so unpleasant and so much more difficult.

“She must go to every scheduled appointment left on her itinerary, NO excuses. From now on, the rest of your time in New York I would like you to call me three times a day, in the morning at 9, at 2 in the afternoon and at 7. I don’t care what you are doing, you call me and let me know how things are going. I’m not going to have her reputation be ruined again because her assistant can’t keep her in line and can’t keep her partying ways to herself.”

“But I thought…”

She cuts me off again and I pull the phone away and stick up my middle finger at it. I feel like throwing it. Damn, I haven’t been this angry in so long. “I have some important calls to make. Tell Meredith to call me within the hour. I have some things to discuss with her as well.” There’s a click and I snap the phone shut, throw it on the carpet and cross my arms over my chest.

Fucking psychotic bitch.

I’m furious. I stand up and immediately start to pace. Someone’s going to pay for this. Someone needs to have their ass whipped for fucking this up for me. I’m not ready to be fired, not again, not for something that really wasn’t my fault. I storm over to Meredith’s closed door. But then I realize, none of this is her fault. Well inadvertently it is, but she didn’t ask me to cancel those appointments and it wasn’t her that convinced me to take them out last night.

I laugh and shake my head. It’s about time that little piece of shit knows what I really think of him. It’s his fault, all his fucking fault for tricking me like he did. He’s an asshole. I march over to the couch, grab my phone up from the floor, dig in my satchel and pull out a few things before walking into my bedroom. I know that if I get on the phone with him I might wake up Teddy and Meredith with all my yelling and I don’t want to do that. I shut the door and go over and open a window.

I get it set up, the chair by the window, I put my earpiece into my phone so my hands are free and I pull out my pack of cigarettes. I’m trying to quit and I haven’t had one in a day or two and right now, this is going to be heaven. I find his number in my phone from the recent calls and press send to let it dial. I smile. Oh this is going to be fun.

The cigarette relaxes me for a moment but as soon as I hear, “Trace Ayala’s phone…” I immediately tense up again.

I don’t really know what to say and so I just take another drag as he goes, “Hello?” He sighs. “What do you want Courtney?”

I cough. “What?”

“Yeah, well over the past few days I’ve had to talk to you on the phone, so I kind of have you programmed. I knew it was you when it rang.” His laugh is deep and I feel like a moron for a second.

“Oh.”

“So, what can I do for you? Miss me already?”

I gag to myself and say to him, “You fucked me over.”

“And how did I do that?” I absolutely hate that he is mocking me. His tone is all but serious and I can hear him laughing to himself. I hope he’s on the plane and his cell phone will interfere and make the plane crash.

“Angie, Meredith’s manager, found out about last night and about her missing some appointments today.”

“Man, that blows.”

“And you’re to blame.”

“Right, ‘cause I called and canceled and I told Meredith she could go out last night.”

I hate this. I wish he were here so I could just slap him in person. “You manipulated me!” I yell.

“I did not!” He yells back. Ooo, I think I’ve struck a chord. “I’m just a very, very good at convincing women to do what I want.”

Oh, now that just pisses me off. Who the hell does he think he is? Some fucking great womanizing Fabio type? Yeah right you little ugly troll. “You little fucking- Why are you trying to ruin my career!”

“I’m not. It is my job to keep my boss happy and right now what makes my boss happy, is your boss. So I’m gonna do what I can to make sure he can see her.”

“She’s not my boss.”

He starts to laugh and I know I’ve said something wrong. I know that technically Meredith is my boss but I don’t know. I just don’t get that feeling with her. She asks me things, but doesn’t order me around. I’m the one having to tell her what to do. I don’t think she would really know what to do with authoritative power. “Oh, yes she is. I think that’s your problem. You’re treating her like you’re her boss. You are her assistant, not her manager. Now I don’t know why in the hell Angie is overworking her and giving you scheduling responsibilities. I’ve never met the chick but she must be lazy or something.”

“Not lazy enough to almost fire me.”

“Look, don’t think about blaming me for a damn thing. You made these decisions on your own. If you let every guy that comes along pressure you into doing something then damn, I feel sorry for you.” I grit my teeth. Why is he saying shit like this? Yeah, ok so it’s a little pathetic for me to take this out on him, but I have to take it out on someone and while I know it’s mostly my fault he does have a little part in this. No, NO! He has a huge part. And now he’s acting like I can’t handle myself with men. I can handle myself just fucking fine, thank you! “Is that what your deal is Courtney, you let men walk all over you, so you put up this bitchy front?”

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Trace. Just stay away from me from now on.”

This conversation has gotten old, fast.

“That’s gonna be kind of hard to do, sweetheart.”

I can’t help but laugh and smile a little bit. He’s so stupid. He’s just trying to piss me off now and it’s pathetic and childish. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why?” His voice lowers. “Does it get your panties all twisted?”

I laugh even more. I don’t know but something about this whole conversation just seems pointless now. “Would you shut up? Why do you assume every woman wants you? You did that the other night at the club. I’m sorry but you’re not that attractive, Trace.”

“My wallet is, and so is my best friend.”

“Oh and you think it’s pathetic that I apparently let men walk all over me? Wow, look in the mirror sometime, buddy.” If he really is like that and thinks that all he needs is a lot of money and a famous friend then he needs to be slapped. Yeah, so some girls would go for that. Some girls would shit themselves at the chance to be with someone like that. But the normal girls, the girls that would end up meaning something, the girls guys would want to marry, they don’t fall for that kind of shit. They’re smarter than that.

I’m smarter than that.

“Why did you really call me, Courtney?” He sighs and sounds a little annoyed on the phone. At least, I think that’s an annoyed tone. He’s really good at covering up his emotions. I’ve noticed that. He can turn everything into a joke. I hate that. Like at the club I tried to start having a real conversation about him, about work, about how it was to be personal assistant to someone so famous. And he had to go and make a joke about how the freebies were great and the pussy was better. I smacked him in the arm and he just laughed and then looked at me for a really, really long time.

It made me uncomfortable and I just attributed it to the fact that he had been nursing a bottle Jack Daniels all night. Thankfully, Teddy came up shortly after and told us about the paparazzi and I was able to forget Trace’s staring and forget trying to have a conversation with him.

“I called to yell at you for being an asshole.”

“Yeah, but you knew I was one when we met, so why are you acting all surprised now? You should have known better than to trust a guy like me. So really, why’d you call? Miss me already?”

I laugh. God, he wishes. “You’re an ass.”

“You love me.” He’s laughing over the phone. It’s…oh my god, is he trying to flirt with me? This is pure comedy if he is. What the hell is he doing? Has he really stooped so low as to finding someone like me attractive? I’m not his type. He wants a blonde bimbo that doesn’t talk and only spreads her legs. ‘Cause he’s a man and men are pathetic creatures too obsessed with sex. Too bad I’m not a lesbian. I think my life would be a lot happier.

“God, you’re hilarious.”

I think he chuckles and says “I know” but it’s static for a moment and then clears up again. I stub out my cigarette and contemplate lighting another, but then I realize that my nerves are calm and I’ve pretty much forgotten or either stopped caring about Angie. She’ll get over it, and from now on I’ll do everything right. I’ll have to. “How about this, since you think I’m so evil and you hate me, why don’t I make it up to you and take you out sometime?”

I pause and wait for him to bust out laughing.

But he never does.

“You’ve lost it.”

He chuckles a little, “I’m being serious.”

“But I’m probably not going to see you for a while.” I quickly add. “Thank God.” I can’t have him getting any ideas that I might like him or something.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What?”

He laughs and I hate to admit that his deep voice, all whispered over the phone could be a turn on for some girls. But not this girl. “I have my secret ways. I’ll see you in a week, I’m sure. And we’ll go out and have a good time. Just us.”

I laugh at him. He really is silly and pathetic. “Why do you assume that I want to go out with you?”

“’Cause you like me.”

I pull the phone away and stare at it. Yup, he’s lost it. I think something’s in the air, some contagious disease that makes people go insane for a day. I was insane yesterday and Angie and him are today. That’s the only explanation. “Yeah right.” I hear him sigh heavily over the phone and then he starts to crack up. Yup, lost it completely. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to kiss goodbye.”

I laugh myself and can’t help but smile. This kid is crazy. “Oh shut up.”

“You think I’m cute. Admit it.”

I reach over and shut the window before moving from my chair over to the bed. “I think you’re stupid and pathetic and I’m hanging up now.”

“Ok.” I wait on the line because I know he has some other smart ass comment to say to me. I wait a few seconds and finally he says, “Are you going to hang up or just stay on the phone and wet yourself over hearing me breathe?”

“Ass.” I end the call and pull the ear piece out before throwing the phone to the end of the bed. He’s ridiculous. I start to smile. It’s funny. For some reason that adorable asshole quality he has, I guess it’s kind of charming. It’s boyish and it’s pathetic but it’s kind of cute. Not saying that I’d even what to attempt going down that path. But he’s harmless and he’s funny.

At least I’ll have a laugh whenever Meredith and Justin are together. It’ll be better than being alone. As long as he can not be such a womanizing pig, or at least stop pretending to be one, and as long as he doesn’t annoy me too badly. I guess, I guess things aren’t as grim as I thought they were. I mean, I think I was just having a bad day yesterday. Ok, so I’ve been having a bad week.

But I don’t know. I guess, in some weird way, Trace has made me see that sometimes I’m going to have to do things that I don’t want to, that it’s my responsibility to keep her happy, not give my two cents on everything and to be willing to work with her. I tell you, today has been much, much easier to work with her than the past few days. And maybe, maybe she just needed to warm up to me.

Things are going to change, promotion week is almost over and while we’ll have another one in a month when her album comes out, I’ll be more experienced and we’ll both know how to manage it better. ‘Cause, I actually kind of like this job. It makes me feel important and even though Trace is right and she is my boss, I still feel in charge and in control. And it’s calming to be in control.

There’s a soft knock on my door and it cracks open. “Court?”

I sit up and see her head pop in the door. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing.” She comes in a little further changed into stretch pants and a plain white, men’s t shirt that doesn’t look like it belongs to her. She looks at me and then at the floor for a moment. “I just…I wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

She sighs, looks at me and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Getting in trouble for me.”

“What?”

She passes me a sympathetic look. “Angie just called me.”

“Oh.” I wonder what the psycho bitch said about me. Shit, I hope Meredith didn’t go off and tell her I was horrible. Maybe I should start packing.

“I didn’t mean for you to almost lose your job. I told her we were getting along great and so there was no need for a new assistant. ‘Cause, I mean, I know I’m a pain but you’re really good at this and you’re good at keeping me in line and I just, I need someone as structured as you to help me learn to be more like that. Ever…ever since Leah I’ve kinda let everything just fall in to place and I know that’s not just going to happen magically. I’m gonna try really hard to make things easier for you.”

I smile at her. Ya know, it could be a lot, lot worse. I could be with some diva who didn’t give a shit about me or my feelings. But this girl cares. She’s genuine and I know that’s really rare in this business. Maybe, maybe I was wrong the other day when I said we’d never be friends. Maybe we’ll get along a lot better than I thought. “It’s ok. Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“I really am gonna try not to be a pain.”

It’s funny. We’re the same age, and yet, right now I feel so much older than her, almost like I’m a big sister or her mom. She’s apologizing to me and really has no reason to. Maybe she’s just a little immature. Maybe she needs someone like me to help guide her. I hide the urge to roll my eyes. I’d probably guide her into failure. “You’re not a pain. I just had to get use to this. I didn’t expect to have this much work and I didn’t expect you to start dating someone the first week.”

“I’m sorry.”

I laugh, she really needs to stop apologizing. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy for you. As long as you guys can remain happy and supportive of each other and not worry about all the little petty things in relationships then I think it’ll be great for you. It’ll be nice to have that kind of backbone when you’re so busy.”

She nods and looks at her nails and picks at them. I want to ask her to stop. I don’t want to have to worry about scheduling a manicure before we leave. By now, I’m sure Angie will fire me if she finds out her client breaks a nail. And I mean what I say about her and Justin, if they can keep it together it’ll be great. But I don’t know, for some reason I have a feeling there’s going to be drama and she’s gonna get her heart broken and he’s gonna want her back and I’ll be there stuck in the middle, trying to put the pieces back together. And I was not hired to do puzzles.

“So what do you think about Trace?”

I gasp and look at her. What does that mean? “What?”

She smiles and leans towards me, getting an excited look in her eyes. “Just tell me. Do you like him?”

“No!” I exclaim. What the hell is this? First him, now her. I feel my face burn but I’m not embarrassed ‘cause I don’t like him and I don’t know why I’m blushing. I’m probably just so mad and frustrated. Why do people always assume I like some random guy I just met? I don’t. God, they were the ones forcing me on him.

“Aww,” She pouts and scoots off the bed. “I was hoping for some double dates. Well, I’m gonna go take a nap. I have time, right?”

I look at my watch. “’Bout an hour. I’ll wake you up.”

She goes to the door and turns around to me. “Thanks Courtney. I might forget to say it and I know this is your job and all, but I really do appreciate your help.”

I smile at her. “You’re welcome.” She closes the door behind her and I sigh and lay back against the covers. Well, that was nice. I mean, besides her thinking I like Trace, which I don’t, that was sweet of her. She didn’t have to do that. This isn’t going to be so bad after all. And the pay is great and I get to travel.

I just need to suck it up, suck up my pride and get over some of my issues and I think this job is gonna be just fine. As long as I don’t listen to any “Trace fairies” and as long as I stop acting like everything Meredith does ruins my life.

‘Cause she doesn’t. We’re just different and that’s ok. Plus, not she, nor Trace nor Angie or anyone else couldn’t ruin my life if they tried.