Date: Mon, 10 Mar 2014 22:04:02 +0100 From: Jayson Leigh Subject: Up Close and Personal - Chapter 3 UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL by Jayson Leigh This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or locations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Author's Note: Please keep the comments, thoughts and questions coming – jmleighwrites@gmail.com. They make me happy :) CHAPTER 3: Crash and Burn Shane was reading the morning paper when his door burst open. "You poor thing." He threw a wary look Jen's way. "What?" "I heard about Leo." Despite his wildly beating heart, he managed to ask calmly, "What are you going on about?" "I heard you guys got ambushed with some shitty non-disclosure contract." "Oh that, right." Jenny gave him a questioning look and he stared back at her blankly. "Well, how did it go? Do I have to drag it out of you? The man's a rock god! Tell me what he's like in person." Shane shrugged, sipping coffee slowly to delay answering. "You should watch the footage." "Between editing and sound mixing, I'll be spending way more time than I care to with that footage. I'm talking about the juicy stuff behind the scenes. Is he as much of a jerk as the media makes him out to be?" "He's not a jerk," Shane said before he could stop himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he defending Leo? "And...?" she asked, waving her hand for him to carry on. He tried to stall. "You know I did sign a non-disclosure-" "Bullshit. You had no problem talking about that time Tom Cruise-" He acquiesced irritably. "Okay, you got me. He's an asshole. Kept us waiting over six hours. Doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything. But he's so goddamn gorgeous, he'd screw you over and kick you to the curb before you even realize what the fuck happened." Jenny's eyes widened. "Sounds like a real dick." "You wanted dirt." "Now is that real dirt or did you make it up?" "He's a rich, famous asshole. I don't have to make up shit about him." "Hmm. Touchy, touchy," she murmured as she went to sit on the love seat a short distance away from his desk. She wondered what was wrong with her best friend; these days, he always seemed a tad defensive about something. She reached into the deep crevice between the arm rest and her seat to retrieve her candy stash. It was a no-brainer that she kept a stash here since she spent more time in Shane's office than hers. No point running back and forth between her place and his for a fix. She pulled out a dark chocolate peppermint patty and returned the plastic bag back into the crevice. Then she thought about it for a second and took another patty. "It's going to be bright and sunny this afternoon, low 70's, at least. Do you want to do lunch?" She asked in between bites. Shane murmured something she didn't catch. After a moment, she sighed. "I get the feeling Los Angeles didn't do what I hoped it would." "And that was?" "Well you've been near comatose since Drew left and I thought some time away would do you good. But you've defied nature and returned from a vacation looking even worse for wear." He folded the paper and smiled at her concern. "I'm fine, really. Jet lag." "But what got you so tired anyway? You took an extra vacation day but your tan's faded some, you obviously didn't get any sun out there, which means you didn't hit the beaches or get laid by an awesome, surfer dude, am I right or am I right?" "I most definitely didn't get laid by a surfer dude." I did fuck a rock star, he added to himself. Wincing at the onslaught of memories, he began gathering his things and prepared to head to the makeup room. He was due on set shortly. Jenny watched her best friend. It pained her that his moodiness was becoming a permanent fixture in his personality now. Frankly he was a bit of an emotional mess, thanks to Drew, she thought darkly. She decided to bring up something that ought to cheer him up. "I hear Bill's pretty ecstatic about the footage with Leo." Shane grunted in reply. "Our ratings are going to hit the roof." Silence. "There's already talk about Bill wanting another special on Leo later in the season. Maybe at the end of his tour-" He panicked. "What? No!" "Why?" Shane looked away. He wasn't sure why, but he wasn't ready to tell Jenny about his encounter with Leo. It was still too raw to relive it and knowing his best friend as well as he did, she would make fun of him falling for another asshole. He didn't want to deal with that right now. "I get that you think he's a jerk," Jenny said, "and you may not want to work with him again, but it's not really your call to make. The producers think-" "Fuck the producers. I'm not interviewing him again." "What the hell's going on?" Shane ran his hand nervously through his hair. "If you have any influence with Trent or Bill, you'll tell them I can't do it." "Well, it's just a rumor. Nothing's been decided yet. It's up to the producers to decide new content for the show and you know we don't get to-" "I'll call in my attorney in if I have to. I'm pretty sure there's a clause in my contract that allows me decline assignments. I'll use it, I swear I will." "Whoa, who said anything about attorneys? You're scaring me here." "I'm sorry. I can't explain, but I can't- I won't work with Leo Malone again." "He can't be that bad?" He rolled his eyes. "He's worse. If Bill pushes another special on Leo, I'll walk. I mean it." "That's between you, Bill and Trent. But remember, you were the one pushing for edgy content." Shane kept silent, feeling himself stuck in one of those awkward moments where the door you'd pushed open was coming back, full speed, to hit you in the face. "You're going to have a hard time convincing them otherwise. I heard Trent tell Bill in the break room that you two had real chemistry on air. That at times you brought out a certain wistfulness and vulnerability in Leo that the public hadn't seen yet." Shane resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. He was pretty sure what he brought out in Leo wasn't his vulnerability, but a fucking hard-on. He opened the door to his office and tilted his head, "After you, Jen." Jenny got the message and rose to her feet. She knew when she wasn't wanted. "You did a good job out there and they're not just going to ignore it." Shane slammed his door closed. "I'm so sick of getting fucked over by everyone." Jen stared at him with a puzzled expression. "I don't even know what that means..." She watched him walk away and called out, "It's not like he's the first Prima Donna you've ever met. You'd be fucking over everyone on the show by declining a follow up with Leo Malone. You know what it'll do to our ratings. Take one for the team, man." He didn't bother looking back, just muttered darkly to himself, "I already it." ### "Honey, do these pants make me look fat?" "No, they're fine, like the last three pairs." "I think I prefer the red dress." "That was good too." "Just admit it, honey. I look like a cow in this, don't I? "No, you look great." "I don't like Japanese sizes. This pair's a size six. That's impossible Just look at this body. Do I look like a six to you?" Leo sighed, hit pause on Temple Run and was treated to the sight of Joni Sampson. Five feet, eleven inches tall, with waist length cascading blonde hair, green eyes and a stunning pair of surgically enhanced tits. Even soaking wet, she couldn't be more than a hundred and twenty pounds. "I think I gained a few pounds overnight. I know I shouldn't have had fish for dinner. Do you know fish makes you retain water? Alisa says it's because they live in water. She's a model too but really smart, like she's got a degree and a shit... or maybe a diploma... whatever... And that croissant I split with you this morning? Oh God, that's what, like 25 grams of carbs at least. I'm a fucking cow." Leo was stunned into silence. Then he began marveling at Joni's dual ability to track the precise number of carbs in everything and to also believe that fish made you retain water because of its habitat. "That's it," she said with finality. "No more food for me. I'm on a diet. It's black coffee and Diet Coke from here on." He stifled a yawn and looked longingly at Guy Dangerous on his tablet. He was used to at least one diet-related tirade every other day. This was the dark side of dating supermodels. The weight insecurities, the crash diets, the constant need for attention like they were on a fucking runway all the time. "Babe," he began patiently. "You had one bite of croissant. Fish doesn't make you retain water. You look great." Not that any of his reassurances would make a difference. Joni had been modeling since she was a child. Her insecurities, he'd long ago concluded, were unshakeable and vital for success in her career. She twirled in front of the mirror with a pout on her pretty face. "You really think so, honey? These jeans look good?" "Sure." She could've been wearing a sack and his answer would've been the same. He'd programed himself to the perfect way to handle her tantrums. Agree, approve then make a speedy exit. He walked over to her and cupped her face in his two hands, then kissed her lightly on her forehead. She lifted her head, trying to offer her lips to him, but he instinctively dropped his hands and took a step backwards. "Hey, what's wrong, honey?" "Nothing," He took a few more steps back and thought of a lie quickly. "I don't want to start something I can't finish; you know we're in public." Lifting a perfectly tweezed brow in protest, Joni replied, "Well, that never stopped you before. Besides, we're in the dressing room, no one's going to barge in here... even if they tried, Jake's standing outside so they couldn't get in." Leo inwardly cursed her unusually well-reasoned answer. "What if they've got cameras?" "Don't be silly, Leo," She said as she took a step closer to him. "No one's got cameras in dressing rooms. They could get sued." He wondered when she'd gotten so smart. Glancing at his watch, an idea came to him. "Look at the time. I told you they needed me back on set for the commercial shoot. I should be leaving now." "Oh, you didn't say that. It's just a three minute commercial, why do they need so much of your time, anyway? You shot all day yesterday and this morning." Leo shrugged. "I just do as I'm told." Joni stuck out her lips in an exaggerated pout that didn't look half as attractive as she thought. "I thought we were going to dinner? Not, that I'm going to eat, but we should go out, do something..." "Can't, sorry. You spent all out time shopping and now I've gotta go." "If you'd told me we had so little time together, I wouldn't have tried on all these clothes. I don't need any of them... Well maybe the jeans, and the dresses and you can never have too many shoes... I'm done now so I could come along, hang out on set, maybe squeeze in some alone time-?" "No," Leo said, with a little more force than he'd intended. "You'll be a distraction. You know how it is, you shouldn't be there." She was trying his fucking patience. If he couldn't get her to back off politely, he'd have Jake remove her. He didn't know what was going on, but he'd suddenly lost all desire to be around her. "What am I to do?" she whined. "I'll be so bored. I don't know anyone in Tokyo. No one speaks English..." Leo thrust his hand in his jacket and pulled out a number of credit cards. He handed her the black American Express. That ought to withstand the damage she would inflict on it. Her face lit up once she caught sight of the exclusive card. He knew the argument was over. She seized the card quite eagerly from his fingertips and flung herself into his arms. "Honey, you're the best!" she cried happily. Leo patted her naked back awkwardly. He could tell she was eager for any intimacy with him and he let her lips find his, pressing against him insistently. He allowed her prolong the kiss for a moment then gently untangled himself from her. He stepped out of reach quickly and headed to the door. "Wait," he heard her say. He glanced back and saw she was still clutching the credit card but had a somewhat worried look on her face. "Am I doing anything wrong?" She asked uncertainly and with a look of longing. "You've barely touched me since we got here...?" Leo tried to smile but found that he couldn't bring himself to lie to her any more. He settled on an awkward grimace and left the room. ### The anonymity he enjoyed here in Tokyo was a huge relief. Besides the huge publicity event at the airport on his arrival, he'd invisible. The narrow, crowded streets of Tokyo reminded him that he was a world away from the States where it was never far from his mind that every move he made was being captured to be analyzed on a gossip blog or entertainment show. The walk back to the hotel was short and uneventful. He turned back to Jake, asking, "Could you go back to the mall and keep Joni company?" Jake made a face. "Seriously, boss?" It wasn't a request and they both knew it. Still, his relationship with Jake had thus far outlived any with a woman and he knew he was asking a lot of the 6ft 2in, 250-pound former defensive lineman. Jake was a former college athlete who'd blown out his knee in his sophomore, a year before he hoped to enter the NFL Draft. He'd dropped out of the college soon after and began working as a bouncer and bodyguard for various celebrities. Leo had met him at party and the rest was history. "Keep her away from me. I need some time alone. Make sure she hits every boutique in the city and say her ass looks great in everything." The bodyguard cracked a smile. "Sure, boss. But you owe me one." Leo patted his shoulder in agreement. ### Three shots of Patron were all he needed to get going. Before long, he'd scribbled down a page of lyrics. Another shot, and then another, and another. His definition of sobriety was flexible. He hadn't totally sworn off alcohol. Being sober now just meant he'd finally learned his limits. When he noticed that he'd gone almost halfway through the bottle of tequila in a very short time, he screwed the top back on and returned it to the bar. It didn't help that the swanky hotel rooms he shacked up in had full sized bottles of liquor. Christ, he thought, looking at the array of drinks of display, there was enough alcohol in his suite for a frat party. He looked at the lyrics he'd written, and frankly, they weren't very good. He rarely did his best work under the influence. He'd have to show them to Ray later, maybe he'd be able to turn into something good. He'd had this riff in mind for some time now. He wasn't sure if it was the end or the beginning, the chorus or the verse. All it was right now, was a small piece that needed to played over and over until it became something. With his custom Les Paul firmly in hand, he let the music flow through him. This was the best part, when he could just let it rip like a fucking jet stream. He slowed it down, then sped it up until it transitioned into a progression of chords. Eventually, it would became something harmonious and the piece would become part of a whole song. He felt powerful and in control when creating music. He understand what he was on earth to do, and his existence had meaning. He played the melody over and over, until it became a part of him. He got lost in it for a long time, until his fingers went numb. Then he was able to breathe again. He put down the guitar, satisfied. Almost two hours had gone by already. Picking up his notebook with lyrics, he left his room and went down the hall to the nearest room. He banged on the door loudly and heard a woman giggle. A male voice yelled, "Who the fuck is it?" Oops wrong room. "Dave, I'm looking for Ray." "Oh, second room to the left." He called out his thanks but the words were drowned out by the woman's squeal. He walked away and made for what he hoped was Ray's room. "Hey man, you in there?" Silence and then, "Leo?" "Yeah." More silence and then soft padded footsteps approached the door. He heard the lock turn and the door was flung open. "You're making me miss the best part." "Best part of what?" Ray's answer got drowned by a loud explosion coming from the television. Leo got there just in time to see Alan Rickman snarling, "Yippie ki-yay, motherfucker," before aiming a gun at Bruce Willis. "I'm going to be here all night. They've the Die Hard trilogy on on-demand." "Aren't there what, like five movies now?" Leo asked as he settled down on the end of the sofa and looked at his band mate. "Nah, the rest are kind of shitty," Ray said. "I prefer to stay ignorant about their existence." Despite being older than Leo, he looked like a kid playing dress up in a white tank top at least two sizes too small, oversized cargo shorts and white crew socks pulled up to knees. His spiky mohawk was dyed black and purple and he had nose, tongue and eyebrow piercings as well as myriad tattoos covering his arms and chest. "What are you doing here? I bet you're hiding from that stunning piece of ass you brought with you." "Fuck you, Raymond," Leo responded without any heat. Ray grinned and got off the couch to head to the bedroom. He came back out with a box which he opened before tossing something at Leo who caught it. A Cuban cigar. He sniffed it appreciatively. "Cohiba?" Ray grinned. "You know it." He waited for Ray to finish up, then took the stainless steel cutter from him and trimmed between the first two lines of the cigar. He held the lighter to the tip for several seconds then settled back and chomped heartily on the cylindrical tube. Ray was drinking from a bottle of Jameson's and offered it to him. He was tempted, sorely, but took a few seconds to consider. "I'm good." Ray shrugged and took a swig. "Your loss." They watched Hans Gruber fall to his death in silence until Leo asked, "So Dave's in there with someone?" "I think he picked up the hairstylists at the shoot." "No shit. Two of them?" "Yeah, they're twins. It's kinda hot." Leo hummed. He'd had twins before. It was kinda hot. "So how's it going with Tara?" "We're good, I guess." "You guess?" Ray hiccupped. "She's talking about moving in together. I don't know about that... I'm too young for that commitment shit. I say if it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?" Leo said nothing, retrieving the remote from his friend's hand. With a near empty bottle of whisky in hand, he wasn't sure Ray had the wits or coordination required to order up the movie's sequel. He considered skipping Die Hard 2. It was the weakest one in his opinion. He confirmed the third movie as his selection. Ray probably wouldn't even notice. He turned to his friend, "You've been together two years?" Ray squinted at him with his silvery grey eyes as he took a particularly large swill of whiskey. "Yeah, something like that." "Do you love her?" He shrugged. "Sure. I mean, the sex is fucking great. And she doesn't give me shit when I go off with other chicks. She gets me, you know? If I had to settle down, I guess she'd be the one, but damn, living together changes things. You know girls..." He feigned an atrocious high pitched tone, "I put dinner on the table since 6 o'clock, where are you? You'd better come home right now!" Leo laughed at Ray's absurd voice. "That'd only happen if you were married to a fifties housewife." "Hey, so get this. Last Halloween, Tara dressed up like one of those housewives, right? Only she wears the apron and she's got nothing on under it. I swear, tits and ass hanging out and she's cooking like it's totally normal. Christ, I couldn't get enough of her that night. Took her from behind right there next to the pasta boiling on the stove... I think we ended up with takeout for dinner." Leo feigned a smile, wondering when Ray had become kind of a douche. As he settled back to watch the movie, he wondered what he sounded like when he talked about the women in his life. In a short while, he heard a soft snore, and realized Ray had fallen asleep. The movie wasn't holding his attention either, so he got up and settled Ray more comfortably on the couch, making sure his head was positioned firmly on the arm, so he wouldn't wake up later with a crick in his neck. He was reluctant to leave the room. He was sure Joni would be back by now and despite his best efforts to forget aquamarine blue eyes, he just couldn't. Besides, who would forget the best blowjob ever? It didn't take a genius to tell him what he had to do next. ### Joni sat at the dresser staring at herself. She had a blemish forming on her left cheek which she'd convinced herself was the result of the one bite of croissant she'd had for breakfast. In the mirror's reflection, she saw Leo pacing around the room with a cigarette in hand. "I saved you a few lines," she said, pointing at the neat columns of cocaine by her elbow. Leo glanced at it before saying shortly, "I'm good."c "You know, honey," she began as she rolled up the trusty 100 dollar bill she kept in her purse for this purpose, "maybe if you'd just get in bed, I could work off that tension. I brought that almond massage oil you like." With several deep snorts, she inhaled the two lines of white powder then dabbed at her nose delicately. "What was that honey?" "You know I don't do that shit anymore." She shrugged and wiped the counter with her finger, then licked it with her tongue. "Yeah and you said you were sober but I walked in here and the room was reeking of alcohol." A short silence, then "That's different..." "If you say so, honey." Then for lack of anything else to say, she added, "Now how about dinner?" "Thought you were on a diet?" She threw him an amused look. "Not me, silly. I meant for you." "I'm not hungry." She nodded as she began the arduous process of examining every inch of perfect skin on her face. It was important to know if any lines or wrinkles had appeared recently. It'd been a month since her last Botox injection and she was sure she was due for another. "Are we still going out tonight?" she asked when the room got too quiet for her liking. "The concierge downstairs suggested a few clubs. One of them sounds really good; it's a burlesque theme. You'd like that." "Sure, whatever," Leo muttered, unaware of what he was agreeing to. He was lost in memories of waking up a few nights ago feeling particularly pleased with himself and very satisfied. He knew he'd just had a great night. The room was unfamiliar and he'd looked sideways to the figure asleep beside him. The warm, fuzzy feeling disappeared immediately. Seeing was believing but right at that moment, he couldn't fucking believe what he'd just done. He'd let his cock do the thinking instead of his brain. He had no excuse, being neither stoned nor drunk. Shane's face had been innocent in sleep, those blue eyes hidden, thank God. Then it'd occurred to him that he was thinking another man looked beautiful. What the hell was happening? If those blue eyes fluttered open now, what would he say? They had nothing in common. It'd all been a big mistake. Then Shane rolled over, the sheets pulling away from him and he'd got another look of those pink nipples, tight abs and narrow hips. His cock had stirred and before he thought too hard about it, he'd jumped right in again. Shane had been so responsive, even half asleep; spreading his legs wide for Leo to settle in between, letting out soft breathy moans to urge him on and rolling his hips deeply, giving as good as he got as Leo ground their cocks together. They'd both come in record time and a flash of aquamarine and a gentle smile had him wanting to stay the rest of the night. But as soon as Shane fell asleep once more, he'd panicked and done what any coward would do when spooked, he'd fled. He'd had to get as far away from Shane Roderick. The trip to Japan to shoot a cell phone commercial was the perfect getaway and taking Joni with him, well that had been a last minute stroke of genius... at the time. He'd needed to affirm his masculinity. His heterosexuality was in question and Joni was the perfect answer. Now he knew better. He didn't want her. He'd been growing bored with her for some time now and finally, something better had come along. Shane Roderick and his sinful mouth was exactly what he needed now. Fuck his sexuality. He wanted what he wanted. It was easier to analyze his feelings for Shane when he was thousands of miles away from him. Nothing really made sense to him, but he was sure about exactly one thing. He wanted to see him again. What he felt for him were too strong to ignore and he knew Shane felt the same way, judging from his response to him that night. He wasn't used to ignoring strong feelings. As a musician, he understood passion and instinct. They guided him and he lost himself in them. He knew they could lead to great and beautiful things. So why the fuck would he walk away from someone who brought out those things in him? "Joni," he said decisively. "We need to talk." It wasn't pretty and as he ducked a sailing red stiletto aimed at his head, he realized that the situation was getting dangerous, too. "I hate you!" Joni yelled with mascara stained tears streaming down her face. "You had to bring me all the way to Japan for this? Fuck you, Leo." With that, she slammed the bathroom door shut. "That went well," he said to the empty room. While she'd been a tad too dramatic, in his opinion, he couldn't help but feel like a jerk. ### Saturday afternoon, and Shane was still in bed. He wasn't sleeping; hadn't been sleeping much to be honest. It was a beautiful day outside, but the bright sunshine only brought back memories of Los Angeles. Closing his eyes and huddling deeper into the pile of comforters over him, he struggled to keep images of Leo from flooding his mind. He gripped his phone, tightly in hand, and stared at a text message from his friend, Dominic. It was a photo of Dom and his husband, Rowan, with their four-year old son on a sailboat out in Montauk. Wish you were here, Dominic wrote. Me too, Shane thought wistfully. He wished he had something even close to what Dominic had with his perfect little family. He hated feeling sorry for himself, despised how much he'd been whining lately. He was just thinking about what to do to get out of the dumps when he heard his front door buzzer go off. He wasn't expecting anyone, and wasn't in the mood to buzz in neighbors who'd forgotten their keys. Perhaps if he ignored it, the person would go away. The ring however became more insistent and Shane slowly got out of bed. Screw security. He didn't even hit the talk button to ask who was there; just pushed the door button until he was sure a whole fucking herd of wild animals would have had enough time to enter his building. He was stomping back to his bedroom when someone pounded on his front door. Maybe the neighbor coming to say thanks? Or that book from Amazon finally being delivered? He went back and took a look through the peephole. Opening the door quickly, he said, "Jen!" "Hey, there," she muttered, her eyes covered by oversized dark shades. "What are you doing here?" She stretched out her hands, and offered him a white paper bag. "Peace offering. It's Thai, your favorite." "Thanks, come on in." She walked in and pushed the sunglasses to the top of her head. "Look, I don't know what went down in the interview with Leo Malone and it's none of my business what the producers want you to do so I'm sorry for-" "No, don't apologize. You're my best friend. My business is your business." He smiled, "That's how we roll, right? I've just been in a shitty mood lately... I'm the one who should apologize." She sighed with obvious relief. "Okay, we're both jerks." "Yeah." He took a few steps closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I miss you," she said, snuggling up to him. "Me too." "Are you keeping things from me, Roderick?" Shane winced, trying not to lie outright. "My love life sucks." Jenny hummed. "That makes two of us." She stepped out of the embrace and tugged at his pyjamas bottoms. "Still in bed at 2:00 pm on a Saturday? That's pathetic, even for you." He grinned. "And you're still wearing the same clothes you had on yesterday." Jenny's eyes widened comically. "You noticed? Jeez." "Spill." Jenny snatched the paper bag out of his hand on her way to the kitchen. "I met someone last night," she said mysteriously. She went into a drawer to retrieve a fork for herself then dug into a carton of drunken noodles. "Oh you know that thing you taught me?" she said to her best friend. "What thing?" She sighed in exaggerated frustration. "Shane, we've been friends for nine years now. In that time, you've taught me one, no make that two things." "Seriously?" "Yup and they're both about blowjobs." Shane stifled his laughter until he'd swallowed the jumbo prawn in his mouth and then he let out a loud chuckle. "Well that's two more than you ever taught me." She shrugged. "This guru's door is always open." He looked skeptical. "Guru Jen, sure has a nice ring to it." He added a few moments after, "Thanks for lunch. I was starving." "You're welcome. I figured if you weren't going to let me in, a bag of Thai Basil's finest would probably change your mind." She put down the box of noodles and took another one filled with steamed dumplings. "You look terrible." Shane observed. "Woke up with a bit of a hangover." "So what's this about my blowjob tips coming in handy?" She bit down on her lip, and poked into another carton of crispy beef. "Come on, spill it out." "So I worked late last night. Felt kind of shitty with the way we left things and well, let's just say when you throw alcohol into a mix of tired, bored and shitty, things happen." "Things like what?" Shane persisted. "Like sleeping with the new sound engineer?" Jenny admitted reluctantly. "Mark? You slept with Mark? You go, girl. He's quite a catch." "Blame it on the alcohol," she said despondently. "You shouldn't leave me alone when I'm feeling shitty... or when you're feeling shitty too. We should be shitty together. It's all your fault. This is what happens when you let me drink alone." Shane shook his head in mock sadness. "Sounds like you could have used some help from Guru Jen." She threw a fortune cookie at him. "So," Shane said after a beat, "Are you two dating now?" "Eww, gross. I don't date guys from work." "Yeah, I forgot about you and your rules." She smiled. "A girl's got to have principles." Shane faked a cough. "I do too," she protested. "Now, I admit they're fluid and constantly changing, but you know, that's a good thing. My principles about sex and dating change because the universe adapts, so I adapt too... and if I don't adapt, I'd be dead, and if I'm dead, I'd have no principles, then where would I be?" Shane made a snorting sound. "Yeah, I know," she agreed after a brief pause. "I thought I had something but I kept going and I lost my train of thought..." Shane dabbed his mouth with a napkin. "You lost me when you started talking about the universe..." She chuckled. "I'll work on it." "So Mark was great in the sack?" "Well, let's just say he's quite skilled, orally, if you know what I mean..." "That good, huh?" "Yeah," She said, smiling at first and then frowning. "But it can't happen again." Shane was familiar with Jenny's aversion to relationships lasting longer than a night or two. "You're going to see him every day." "I know that's why I'm kind of pissed that I let it happen." "You know, your principles would've come in real handy last night. I bet you Guru Jen-" She cut him off pointedly. "Quit while you're ahead." He smiled and put an arm around her as they departed the kitchen. "What's really the problem with Mark?" She covered her face with her two hands. "He's my co-worker and he's older than anyone else I've ever been with. I'd be embarrassed to be seen out and about with him." "Huh, I didn't think you had one embarrassed bone in your body." She punched him hard and pushed his arm off her shoulder. "There are rules against inter-office dating at Up Close and Personal." "No, there're not. You just made that up. Next." She pouted as she sat down next to him and admitted quietly, "The age thing bothers me, to be honest. He's 42, he's got fourteen years on me." Shane replied patiently "First of all, you're thirty three, so he's got nine years on you." She gave him a withering look. Besides her parents, sister and those in the HR department, Shane was probably the only other person who knew her true age. "You're within the ten year gap which I think is totally normal. Here's how I see it. A ten year age difference is okay. Ten to twenty's weird but okay, too. Now anything over twenty's creepy and over thirty years is just plain criminal." She gave him an amused look. "You've given that some thought, I see..." He smiled sheepishly. "Remember the European aristocrat we had on the show last season...?" "The French one with the insane collection of antique cars?" "He was from Monaco," Shane corrected, "but yeah, him..." "What about him?" "He hit on me after the show, said age was nothing but a number." "Hmm," Jenny said thoughtfully. "What was his number?" "Seventy three." She giggled. "That my dear, isn't just a number. It's a fucking prime number, if you know what I mean..." Shane laughed along with her. "Drew thought it was fucking hilarious, but it got me thinking, just how old was too old?" "And thirty's the magic number for you?" "I guess so..." "So right now, you'd date a fifty nine year old?" He gave it some thought. "Why not? I admit, it's still kind of borderline criminal in my opinion, but yeah, if he looked like, say, George Clooney, why not?" Jenny rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I'm pretty sure everyone would date George Clooney at any age." "Okay, maybe I'd be really picky..." "Interesting," Jenny sighed. "I don't think it's Mark's age I've a problem with. It's just... I think he might be looking for something more serious." "And that's a problem, because?" "I've been married once and that's enough," she replied defiantly. "No offence, but look at you and Drew. He turned out to be a fucking nightmare. Take my advice and ditch love. It's so not worth it." "Don't say that," Shane told her. "It makes you do stupid things. Like you, here, waiting for Drew... I think love is boring. Boring and overrated. It's a transient burst of perfect passion that no one gets to keep forever. Death, divorce... something always ends it. Did you ever notice how all the great love stories are sad and tragic and short? Romeo and Juliet? Mark-Anthony and Cleopatra? They all did incredibly stupid things in the name of love and they suffered for it. I don't want to lose my head over some guy... I'd rather be happy as a clam, alone." Shane said nothing. Jenny had a way of analyzing things that was so spot one. Christ, and she hadn't even heard about his night with Leo Malone. Knowing Jen, she would eviscerate him without mercy. He decided to save that story for another day. Maybe one of their Friday night drinking games; never have I ever fucked a rock star... he sure as fuck couldn't drink to that. He leaned over and ruffled her loose red curls. "Despite what you think, I'm not stupid. I can take care of myself." "Said the cute little bunny right before the big bad wolf came and gobbled him up." Shane stayed quiet for a few moments. Jenny words had once again hit dangerously close to home. He didn't like it so he changed the subject. They spent the next hour chatting away idly. "You've got precisely one hundred and thirty freckles on your face," Shane observed. Jenny lifted her head off his lap with righteous indignation, "I do not. There are fewer, far fewer." "Nope, I just counted." "There're only eighty-six." He laughed at her. "You actually know how many freckles you've got? I just threw a number out there. I started counting but gave up..." "Do you know freckles were once the bane of my existence? When I was in the third grade, Bobby Lee Jones called me a freckled carrot with a million spots. Could you believe that kid? So I went home, sat in front of the mirror and counted my freckles." "And...." "I went back and punched him right in the honker in front of the whole class. Told him I had only sixty eight. I might have underestimated a little bit." Shane laughed and kissed her freckled forehead lightly. "Good for you." "Oh man," she said, glancing at her watch. "I've got to head to work." "Why? It's Saturday." Jenny sat up and pulled her sneakers back on to her feet. "Bill's called a meeting with the network executives. You know they're concerned about our numbers and ratings? Well he's planned a viewing of your interview with Leo Malone. He thinks once they see we've got Emmy-worthy material-" Shane arched an eyebrow in surprise, "Emmy-worthy?" Jenny nodded. "It's going to be one of your submissions. You and Leo just may win us one this year. Well, anyway, Bill's hoping the network eases off once they see it. We can't afford any more layoffs as it is. I'm just going on in to supervise some technical work, that's all." Shane didn't say much after that. He knew he couldn't have a rational conversation about anything concerning Leo Malone now. The thought of the interview made him ill; and now the possibility that the Emmy award he and his Up Close and Personal team so desperately craved could come as a result of that interview made it even worse. He hugged Jenny good bye at the door and returned to the kitchen to clean up the empty take out boxes. He was just considering the merits of storing an almost empty carton of Pad Thai, when he thought he heard a scurrying sound in the living room. At first, he thought nothing of it. Wind, perhaps, blowing the window blinds. He felt so much better after spending time with his best friend. He even felt happy enough to hum one of Celine Dion's songs to himself when he suddenly heard a high pitched yelp behind him. He whirled around to find two small brown eyes staring at him, black bat ears standing upright and a wrinkled forehead framing a black muzzled snout. He approached the small pug slowly. Once he'd picked her up, he could almost swear she'd gained at least a few pounds since he'd last held her. He walked slowly to the living room where he heard more sounds. So many thoughts were circling through his head, but he couldn't really focus on any of them. The dog whined then leaned up to lick his nose. He paused in the door way to watch the figure leaning against the dining table. He was just an inch taller than Shane's 5ft 10in, but he always looked considerably taller because of his slim runner's build. He was casually dressed in a grey sweater and blue jeans. His chocolate brown hair was much longer now. Long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail, although a few tendrils fell carelessly around his ears. He was clean shaven, but scratched carelessly at his jaw as if he'd just shaved recently. As he turned to throw a glance behind him, a diamond glinted in one ear. "I see I've got a ton of mail here," he said to Shane casually, like they were continuing a conversation. "About three months' worth." He returned his attention to the pile of envelopes stacked neatly on the dining table. He worked quickly, ripping some in two without even a second glance while perusing others carefully and pushing them into another pile. Shane didn't speak. Just watched him do his thing until finally, he pushed all the envelopes aside and turned around to give him his full attention. "Jasmine found you," he said with a small smile. "She missed you." Shane said nothing for a few moments then set Jasmine down gently. "Drew, what do you want?" he asked. He smiled, wide and charming, then said confidently, "You." ### Leo heaved his guitar case more securely on his shoulder as he walked through the airport lounge following Jake who was pushing a luggage cart ahead of him. The band had gone their separate ways as soon as they'd come off the plane, eager to spend time with their families before the tour began this weekend. He ignored the eyes following his exit and hoped he would make it out of there without too much attention. A black SUV pulled up at the entrance and Jake proceeded to load it up. He tried to pull Leo's guitar case off his back, Leo gave him a dirty look. "Do you remember what happened the last time you put my case in the trunk?" Jake grinned easily. "That wasn't me boss." "Yeah, whatever," Leo replied as he stepped into the car. He glanced to the back where Jake was still loading up. "Where's Paul?" Jake motioned his head in the direction of the airport, "Maybe still in there, or he might've taken another exit." Leo sat up in surprise, "He's not coming with us?" "Talked about his wife and kids the entire plane ride back. Probably half way home by now." He tried calling Paul but heard two beeps and the call ended. He glanced at his phone and realized the battery had gone dead. It hadn't been charged in days. He turned to Jake. "Can I borrow your phone?" "Sure thing." He soon got Paul on the line. "What's Shane Roderick's number?" he asked, not even trying to be subtle about it. "What is it with you and him-?" "Just do as you're told, Paul," he said abruptly. He wasn't in the mood to explain himself. "Give me a sec." He had the number a few moments later but just as he was about to end the call, he heard the tail end of Paul's words, "...told him you were heading to Tokyo." Leo put the phone back to his ear. "What?" "I said Shane Roderick called the morning we left for looking for your number..." "Why the fuck didn't you say anything?" "What's it to you? I'm your manager. I handle your publicity." "Fine. What did he say?" "Something about wanting to ask follow up questions. It was some god-awful hour so I just said I'd get in touch this week." "That's all you said?" "It's all I remember..." "Don't fuck with me..." Leo warned. "Yeah, that's it." He took in a deep breath. "Okay, I've got to go." He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and tried to light it. Oh fuck, he couldn't even get his hands around his lighter because they were shaking so much. He had a sinking feeling he'd screwed up real bad. What had Shane thought when he realized Leo hadn't just bailed on him, but left the country as well? Fuck, he couldn't delay any longer, he had to call Shane now. Had to explain to him that he'd made a stupid, rash decision and didn't mean anything by it. He closed his eyes and conjured up the image of Shane and those bright blue eyes looking at him like he was something worth having. It was motivation enough. The phone rang out the first time and went into voice mail. He called back again, determined to keep calling until Shane answered. "Hello?" His mouth was dry. He couldn't form any words. "Anyone there?" The voice sounded different. "Shane?" he asked uncertainly. "No, it's Drew. Who's this?" In the background, Leo heard another voice call out, "Drew, is that my phone? Who is it?" That was Shane. His Shane. "Baby, I don't know. Give me a sec." The voice came back louder, speaking to Leo this time. "Okay, who's this?" Leo snarled. "Who the hell are you?" The person let out an amused snort of laughter. "I'm Drew, Shane's boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?" Leo inhaled sharply and ended the call. Fuck. His call had come too fucking late.