It’s All About Connections

Reid zips up his briefcase and puts it on the floor, “Thanks God for Friday nights.”

“I know, I feel like they don’t come around often enough.”

He takes off his tie from his neck and goes into the other room to change. I thumb through a magazine strait out of Brooke’s must read pile. People, Us Weekly and Cosmopolitan. Like I don’t get enough of this shit at work I have now reduced myself to actually flipping through this trash. I so need to get a life.

“That’s mine, don’t throw it away after you’re done,” Brooke says, setting down her glass.

“I’ll keep that in mind while I remember how you went psycho on a certain celebrity.”

“I did not go psycho,” she pouts.

“You hugged him,” I say, looking over the top of the magazine.

Brooke flips me off, “I was just a little star struck.”

“Little star struck my ass.”

Reid comes back into the living room in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, “Yeah Brooke, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drool that mush in your life. We practically had to pry you off his arm.”

“Okay fine. So what? It’s not like I’ll ever be that close to him or any other celebrity ever again.”

“That’s true,” I reason, sipping my coffee.

“That reminds me Paige, if you insist on drinking every ounce of coffee in the house you must replace it so that the other people in this house have some sort of caffeine in the morning.”

Reid points to Brooke, “She’s right for once. I mean, we need to be able to see strait in the morning too.”

“Okay, okay, I‘m sorry. I might have gone overboard a little after Scott stopped by the other day.”

“What did the dear douche want?” Brooke asks, peering over my shoulder to see a article on what jeans accentuate your ass.

“Couple’s therapy.”

Reid and Brooke immediately start to laugh and I lean back in the chair, “I know, that was my response.”

“What idiot suggests couple’s therapy if their not married?”

I shrug, “An idiot. I got out of it though by promising to go to the Bahamas with him some time this month.”

Brooke slams her hands down on the table abruptly, “And you’re going to do it?”

“I put in an application to the New York Post and The Gazette. Until I hear back from one of them I’m just going to have to suck it up.”

“You should tell him to stick his shit where the sun don’t shine,” she sings, pulling the magazine from my grasp.

“I wasn’t done,” I laugh, propping my feet up in the empty chair next to me.

“Yes you were.”

A rapping on the door causes all of us to look up to see none other than him standing at the door, his face in clear view through the panes in the door, “Oh for fucking sake he’s got to be joking.”

I get up and Reid grabs on to Brooke, sitting her in his lap in a death grip as I open the door, “This is beginning to be a common occurrence.”

“Maybe I just missed you.”

“Or maybe you’re just trying to see how much you can push my buttons before I try and murder you.”

He holds out a box, “Since I don’t want it to come to that I brought you a peace offering.”

I take it and rip off the brown paper to reveal the first three seasons of House. I hold them up, “House?”

“Yes, that’s what they told me it was when I bought them. It’s that or some porn with a pun on the playing doctor with sexually experimental people.”

“Look,” I say, stepping outside so that the two of them can’t hear our conversation, “I don’t want you to buy me anything alright? I’m not one of your fucking groupies.”

“I’m not doing it to butter you up babe, I’m doing it because you’re going to be missing some episodes from now on.”

“Oh yeah? Why would that be?”

“Because I just arranged a writer from UCS to follow me around for the next few weeks before the article comes out to soften my image a little you might say.”

“So?” I say hesitantly, already knowing full well why by the smug look on his face.

“That writer is you Paige.”

Okay, isn’t this where Ashton Kutcher is supposed to jump out and say punk’d?

“I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’re doing this just to piss me off?”

“No, and you start tomorrow. I have an event to attend so you’ll have a chance to put that dress to good use.”

I pause, “How long have you known about this whole thing?”

He smiles, “I’ll see you tomorrow PJ.”

“It’s Paige!” I call after him, not that I think he’s listening to me one iota. This is not happening to me. This is not happening to me. Maybe if I tell myself that enough this whole thing will blow over. Maybe not.

I go back inside to see Brooke squirming under Reid’s grasp, “What did he want?” she asks breathlessly.

“He informed me that the magazine has made a deal to have a writer follow him around to combat the pictures,” I say, my head on the table.

I hear Brooke squeal and although I can’t see his face I know Reid is rolling his eyes, “So what do you have to do?”

“For starters? I have to go to some party tomorrow and document his sensitive side. If this is how he’s going to play the game I can play it too. For fucking sake he’s not exactly what you would call a gentleman. He’s just doing this to punish me for the whole picture thing.”

“Well you did take them,” Brooke echoes as though she was reading off a damn script.

I tilt my head to look at her, “Thank you. What are you his publicist?”

She mocks me, mouthing the words I just said as Reid finally lets her go. I sigh into the table and I feel Reid rub the back of my head, “Don’t let him get under your skin. It’s one article Paige.”

I slowly pick my head up off the table and give him a weak smile, “Yeah I know.”

“What did he give you?” Reid asks, picking up the series of DVD’s.

“That is supposed to make up for the Tuesday’s I’ll be missing.”

Reid laughs, “Nothing is going to help if you miss a new episode of House.”

“I know, that’s why I plan on channeling the bitch within on those days.”

“He’ll never know what hit him,” Brooke quips.

________________________________________________________________________

I go back to the house, collapsing on the couch. Trace emerges from the other room and sits down, “So how did it go?”

“Worked like a charm,” I say grinning.

“No excuses now, you are down to a little over two weeks now.”

“Dude, I could get her in two days if I wanted to now. All it takes is a little more interaction and bam, there we are. How long do you think I should sleep with her before telling Scott?”

Marty comes in, “Any sooner than twice can be accidental, after that it’s a full blown mess. Let the cat out of the bag after about four times I would say.”

I nod and he smiles, “If you actually get her,” he adds.

“I’ll get her,” I assure him.

“Whatever you say.”

A red head walks into the room and sits on Trace’s lap to my great surprise, “Uh, hi?”

Trace kisses her on the neck, “Justin, this is Phoebe from the press interview thing, Phoebe this is none other than the Justin Timberlake.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, nodding in her direction.

“Were you guys talking about the bet?”

I quickly snap to attention, looking at Trace for some sort of explanation. He waves a hand at me, “Relax, I told her she made be getting a ride in Marty’s new Jag soon.”

“Trace,” I warn.

“Oh don’t worry, I think it’s funny,” she giggles.

“Well we would only do it to amuse you,” I reply sarcastically, feeling pissed off that not only would Trace bring a girl into my house without asking me first but he would also tell her about our bet. Oh fucking joy.

“Leave her alone, she’s just a little drunk,” Trace says, patting her head like a puppy.

“At six at night? Happy hour is here to stay huh?”

He smiles, “I’m a little drunk too.”

“No kidding. You pulled the wool right over my eyes.”

Phoebe starts to laugh hysterically and I begin to develop a headache. I stand up and go upstairs, hitting the bed and curling up underneath the covers. My dog jumps up on the bed with me and lies its head down near my hand.

“Hey buddy,” I say rubbing her head gently.

I roll over and grab the latest copy of UCS, picking through it until I see PJ’s face alongside her article. I’m not sure which I’m looking for to more, screwing Scott or screwing Paige. Which is what’s starting to concern me.

What the hell is someone that beautiful doing with someone who is a bastard? Exactly, so in the long run I’m actually helping Paige right?

Bella whines and I think she can actually read my thoughts, “I’m helping. Really.”

The phone rings and I pick it up off its receiver, “Hello?”

“Is there a certain reason why my girlfriend is following you around for the better part of the next few weeks?”

“Why do you care? After all, you are getting an interview strait from my mouth, which is bound to take your bullshit to the nest level in terms of sales, which you and I both know. In fact, I half expected flowers and a goodnight kiss from you.”

“You bastard, don’t you understand anything? I know why you want this interview and this won’t help. It’s a few nude photos, you puking outside a hotel room, maybe snorting some coke somewhere and before you know it, you’re just a washed up pop star.”

“You’re just jealous because you’re not me. You can’t get away with the shit I can and you hate it. Get over it.”

“Look,” he says angrily, “she and I are going on vacation together so the time you’ll get with her is short, we’ll replace her with someone else for the remaining time.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be in a chatty mood with anyone other than PJ,” I say, letting the pet name sink in and eat him alive.

“Oh yes you will otherwise I won’t run this interview. You and I both know requesting her was just a stab at me so I just wanted to tell you that it won’t work. Paige doesn’t even like you so this whole thing is just going to blow up in your face when she puts her own spin on it.”

“At least that what you want to believe. You don’t want to think that your precious girlfriend could ever think of me at night when she’s making love to you. Oh wait, she’s probably not doing that is she? Girls can be so picky sometimes.”

I hear heavy breathing over the phone and take great pleasure in it as I taunt him, “Hello? Scott?”

“You just keep your distance from her. Don’t fuck with me Timberlake, it would be a very dangerous career move.”

“Who do you think you are?” I laugh condescendingly over the phone.

“I’m the guy who has more dirt on you than anyone else on earth. Watch you’re back.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I see her. I can tell PJ not to drop her panties when she sees me if you want but I doubt it will do any good. I’m just that irresistible.”

And the line goes dead.

9