Chapter Seven

I'm about to deplete my intellectual mystique and make a confession: I love John Hughes movies, especially Sixteen Candles. I love that scene where Samantha (I always wanted to look like Molly Ringwald with the red hair and freckles.) leaves the church after her sister's wedding. A flicker of disappointment flashes across her face, as her sister's limousine pulls away and the crowd of guests detaches, only to be quickly replaced with a huge smile. I always want to jump out of my chair and cheer when I see Jake on the television screen. He stands there--tall, brooding, and handsome. He's leaning against his sports car, waiting for her, and she knows it. The two of them lock eyes and smile (a smoldering gaze), and you can practically see the mutual accelerated pulses.

I always wanted that. I was too cynical to believe it would actually happen, but I really did want it. I harbored serious desires of walking out of a class or leaving work to find the guy of my dreams waiting for me by his red corvette. Our eyes would connect and the chemistry between us would zigzag and swirl with the power of an Atom bomb.

Hey, even I have a very guarded girly side.

Since the first time I saw Sixteen Candles, I've learned that life is rarely like the movies. Most guys that follow you around or show up outside your sister's wedding are stalkers and rarely are you feeling anything more than a mix of frustration and the not-again-squirmy sensation. That's what made Britney's appearance at my door and her prodding to go out on Valentine's Day even stranger. For the first time in my life, I, Melanie Jane Stanton, was about to experience that Jake Ryan smoldering gaze without the fear and loathing that I usually associated with it.

Britney had been in town recording and, with Justin gone, she decided that she and I should have a "Girl's-Night-Out-Meets-Anti-Valentine's Day". It worked for me. I had midterms coming up that I wanted to avoid and my roommate was pulling her bipolar, drama-major crap. I needed to get out of my dingy little dorm room for a while and I didn't pay any attention to the fact that people would find out that the nerdy girl in Room 213 knew Britney Spears.

Britney pulled her hat down further on her face. It was something I was used to seeing Justin do. For some reason, they both believed that a bucket hat or baseball cap made it impossible to recognize them. She smiled at me, avoiding eye contact, and said, "I saw this really cool Irish Pub on my way to the studio the other day. I've been dying to try it out. You up for it?"

I shrugged, "It works for me. A pub shouldn't be overrun with happy couples."

"No happy couples. Damn them all to hell," Britney replied, holding the door open for me.

I rolled my eyes, "Aren't you a part of one of those happy couples?"

Britney shrugged. She had this glint in her eye that said she wanted to talk about it, but it wasn't appropriate. After all I was Justin's best friend. He wouldn't go to her friends and complain about Britney and she wasn't going to put me in that position either--one of those unwritten couple policies. She could tell me about the good stuff or the dumb stuff, but the problems were things I only heard about from Justin. And, since it was Justin, he never had problems with anything--ever.

Britney walked to the limo that was idling on the street and waved to a few people who were gawking in our direction. I cringed and she smiled comfortingly, "Don't sweat it, Laney."

"Uh-huh," I managed as I slid into the limousine next to her. A guy from my Chemistry class caught my attention and he waved. The guy had never acknowledged my existence before and suddenly we were buddies. Wasn't life lovely?

"Have you talked to Justin lately? He's been filling me in on their European adventures. So far none of the guys have offended anyone," Britney went on. She grabbed her bag from the floor, pulled out a compact mirror, and eyed herself over. She pulled at a clump of mascara stuck to her eyelash and added, "They're getting antsy about the new album. He won't admit it, but Justin's freaking out."

"Sounds like Justin. He really does have ego problems. Everything is about him--so if this album fails, it's all his fault," I replied, watching Britney as she dabbed on just the right amount of lipstick. I was in awe. I was never a girl who got the makeup thing. I played around with it. I wore blush to avoid looking dead, but the art of cosmetics was lost on me. When I attempted to mess with it, I always looked like the no-no pictures from magazines--I looked like I had makeup on. But Britney sat there, in a moving vehicle taking bumps and turns, and nonchalantly brushed a bit of rouge on her cheeks.

Britney snapped the small compact shut and looked at me expectantly, "So? Do I look less like Frankenstein and more like Britney Spears?"

"Oh yes, you were absolutely hideous before that Estee Lauder blush. Thank you for no longer blinding me," I replied wryly.

Britney laughed and patted my arm, "I really like you, Laney."

"Thanks."

"I used to be so jealous of you when we were younger."

I turned around, expecting to see the Candid Camera crew hovering around us. Britney Spears was admitting jealousy--to me of all people? I was almost certain that something like that went against a natural precept of society; or broke one of the Ten Commandments. I pointed at myself, like maybe there was a chance someone else was sitting next to me that I hadn't noticed, and repeated incredulously, "You were jealous of me?"

Britney nodded, "Yeah. I've been in love with Justin since the first time that I saw him...and all he ever talked about was you--well, besides Tennessee and basketball."

"That sounds like a boring conversation to have."

"I don't think you--" Britney's voice trailed off and she coughed as the limousine stopped. She sized me up with her eyes and continued, "You're pretty important to Justin."

"So are you," I said. This was one of the most bizarre conversations of my life. It was right up there with the time my mother decided to explain where babies came from--embarrassing and highly uncomfortable. Britney sighed, clearly under the illusion that I was her buddy, her confidante, her sidekick in matters amatory. I wondered if Justin had shared his worries that I had developed a crush on him with Britney...of course, he had. She was his girlfriend and Mr. Big Mouth probably found it amusing that his little Laney Jane had imaginary feelings for him.

I suddenly wanted to stick my head out of the window and scream for the entire world to hear, "I don't think of Justin like that!" Instead, I gave placatory smile in Britney's general direction and babbled, "Justin really does love you. You're a lot different than all the other morons he's dated--and I'm really happy for him. I'm really, really happy for him."

Britney chuckled softly and asked, "Do you ever wish that you had a serious relationship?"

"I don't know. I'm not exactly the easiest person in the world to get along with and--" I paused, my eyes darting over the confined space, and pulled at the collar to my sweater. It was already stretched out from several stressful exams my first semester and frayed threads perforated the wool. I admitted, "I guess a smart guy wouldn't be a bad thing." The door to the limousine opened and I sprung from the area like I had been incarcerated for years.

I made my way through the two main doors. I noticed a booth in the corner and ran towards it. I took a seat and Britney joined me a few minutes later with a confused expression etched on her face. She shrugged off her jacket and asked, "Everything okay, Laney?"

"Yeah, I'm just--Justin has been trying to set me up for the past month, but I'm guessing you know that."

Britney rolled her eyes and patted her security guard's shoulder. She batted her eyes, "Timmy, would you please get me the biggest glass of diet coke you can find?" He started to walk off and Britney added, "Wait...what do you want, Laney?"

"Same for me."

Timmy nodded and moved over towards the bar. Britney whispered, "The guy will complain later that he's my protection, not my slave, but I still get him to do whatever I want."

"Must be nice."

"Sometimes...sometimes I would give anything to be able to go see a movie without my shadow," Britney replied. She glanced around the place and picked a menu up. Her eyes ran over the list and she said, "How do we feel about potato skins?"

"Great in the mouth, bad on the hips," I said taking in the atmosphere of the place. There were assortments of Guinness placards positioned throughout the place. An Irish flag clung to the rafters surrounding the bar area and Celtic music filtered through the sound system intermixed with random guitar chords coming from the stage.

Britney giggled and replied, "Potato skins it is."

I nodded, barely processing what Britney said. My eyes were fixed on the stage. One of the guys setting up on stage looked vaguely familiar. I watched him strumming the guitar and searched my memory banks. He caught my preposterous gawking and waved in my direction. I turned my head, not sure who the hell he was waving to. He seemed to understand my puzzlement and his mouth augmented into a humorous grin. A crease formed on each cheek, not exactly dimples, but indents in the skin that deepened with his smile. He pointed at me and waved again.

Things like this never happened to me. I wracked my brain for how I knew him. Most guys passed right by me, never glancing my way. I groaned when he started moving towards our booth. I lifted my menu as if I could achieve transparency with enough visualization and coverage from approaching people.

"Hey Spence, I didn't know that you were here," Britney replied. I suddenly felt really stupid. The guy had noticed Britney. Of course that made much more sense.

"I noticed Laney--that is your name right?"

What was that? Noticed me? I peeked out over my menu feeling completely ridiculous. I tried to play the situation off like I hadn't noticed him before. I was met with two pairs of eyes--Britney's bewildered gaze and Spence's brown-blue amused orbs. Spence...Spencer...Spencer O'Grady...Oh God!

I groaned and quickly put the menu back up. I silently prayed, Dear God, you didn't hear me when I asked you to keep Tom Green from making movies, but maybe you could allow me to vanish into the fake wooden tiling.

My prayers met with a cessation of sound. I blinked my eyes open and shut like I was on I Dream of Jeanie, as if that was the secret to disappearing. Nothing happened. Spencer was still waiting for an answer and I was suddenly Helen Keller. Not only did the sight of him up close temporarily daunt me, but recognition had surely flickered across my face. I forced my vocal chords to produce a sound. I squawked, "I'm thinking we should have those potato skins, Britney."

Sometimes I acted as if ignoring a situation made it go away. It had yet to work to my advantage. A hand pushed my menu down and Spencer asked, "I'm usually really good with names. Please tell me I haven't made an idiot of myself."

I smiled at the absurdity of that statement. He made an idiot of himself? I nodded mutely, aware of the almost electric proximity of Spencer's legs to mine, and finally managed to articulate, "Yes, that's me."

Britney pointed at us, "How do you guys know each other?"

"We met briefly at a party a few weeks ago," Spencer answered.

I nodded again and replied, "What he said."

"We share a mutual respect for compounds," Spencer added.

If it was possible, Britney's face clouded over with more confusion and I replied, "Spencer hopes to one day achieve crazy, cult status in the world, but it's okay because he's from Texas."

"Ah, she remembers me, after all," Spencer said with an extravagant wave of his hand. He tapped the side of his head and added, "I never forget girls so overwrought with interest in me that their eyes are directed everywhere else but on me. Did you find your friend that day?"

That was the moment I should've rolled my eyes. I should've been utilizing my vast collection of sarcastic comments. I would most likely think of about twenty different biting comebacks once he was gone. I settled for a grunt. "Yes."

Britney slid over, opening up a seat in the booth next to her, and said, "Have a seat, Spence."

"I wish I could, but I have to help Doug finish setting up on stage. I'm glad you ended up coming, Brit. You'll love their band. They're amazing," Spencer replied. He grinned, leaning in close and rendering me powerless against his aftershave, and said, "I definitely recommend the potato skins here. Good choice, Laney."

He started to walk off and stopped abruptly. He turned and asked, "Are you guys going to be here awhile?"

I glanced at Britney helplessly, my vocal chords temporarily paralyzed once again, and Britney called out, "Definitely. Come join us when you're done."

I didn't miss the smirk on Britney's face. She crossed her arms, adjusting her attention back to me, and pouted, "I'm the one who recommended the potato skins. It figures you get all the credit for it. It's that innocent beauty thing you have going for you."

"How do you know Spencer?"

Britney stretched back in the booth and said, "He works for Jive."

"Uh-huh," I said, prompting her to continue.

Tim appeared with two glasses. Britney patted his hand and said, "You're going to kill me, but we want potato skins. Would you--" Tim muttered under his breath and made his way back into the crowd near the bar. Britney laughed and then said to me, "So, what were we talking about?"

"How you conveniently forgot to mention that Spencer was going to be here tonight."

"Conveniently forgot?" Britney repeated, shaking her head in mock disdain. She sipped on her soda and said, "Spencer's best friend, Doug, has this band that makes the rounds in the pubs and bars. He keeps telling me that I should check it out. I figured we were bored and Anti-Valentine's Day. What better way to spend it then listening to a band play songs about that icky love thing?"

"Right. Did Justin put you up to this?"

"Put me up to what?"

I glared at her. My eyes wandered to the stage where Spencer was looking over at us. I longed for a window to jump out of and run away. I focused my attention back on Britney and said, "Britney, is this some plan to set me up?"

"What are you--" Britney stopped midsentence when her eyes locked on mine. She shook her head and explained, "Look, Justin mentioned that he wanted you to meet some more people so that you felt comfortable on tour this summer. Spencer is pretty new to the road too. I figured you guys would find a kindred spirit in each other."

"You lie about as well as Justin does," I commented, gulping down my soda.

Britney frowned and admitted, "Fine, you caught me. Trust me when I say that I'm trying to put an end to this though. Both you and I know that Justin doesn't know how to walk away from anything. I figured that rather than subjecting you to several more guys that Justin picked out for you, I would step in and get control of the situation."

"And you think forcing an unsuspecting Spencer to spend time with us is getting control of the situation?"

"Oh please," Britney said, waving me off with her hand, "The guy is into you, Laney."

I blushed and stammered, "What?"

"You act as if a guy has never showed any interest in you at all."

"Well, yeah, they have, but it's usually guys who follow it up with things along the lines of 'If I weren't going to prison tomorrow, we could have a great relationship'."

Britney let out a loud, exasperated breath. I wondered if people were watching us. I reckoned they thought that Britney was pulling a popstar complex or something. Popstar complex? It sounded serious like the Bubonic plague. I'm sorry, the doctor would begin, there is no cure for Popstar Complex. It's an insolent virus that attacks the minds of music industry deities and symptoms include loud sighs, perfection, unrealistic expectations, and a strange fixation on navel rings and halter tops.

"Laney, Spencer likes you. He could barely take his eyes off you," Britney said matter-of-factly.

I think it was safe to assume that my face was the color of a Santa suit. I chewed on my bottom lip, almost slicing my teeth through the flesh, and replied, "I don't think so."

Britney ignored me and continued, "And it's obvious that you like him."

"Obvious?"

Britney gave me this "well duh" glare as if I was wearing a sign declaring my love for the guy. I picked up my straw wrapper and ripped it into smaller pieces. With great concentration, I arranged the pieces in different shapes. My fingers deftly moved over the table and I pretended to be hard at work creating a wrapper portrait or something. Britney tapped her manicured nails on the hard wood table and said, "Just give it a chance. Spence is a great guy. The worst case scenario- you make a friend."

I nodded, never glancing up. If I glanced up, my eyes would immediately wander in Spencer's direction and I was likely to dump my diet coke in my lap.

Britney and I both remained rather quiet for the next half hour or so. I was regretting coming along and I'm sure Britney was wishing Justin dead for forcing her to endure a night with me. The one positive of the evening seemed to be that no one really paid any attention to Britney there. Only one inebriated buffoon asked for her autograph while re-enacting the choreography to Baby One More Time--as if she needed him to remind her of how the dance went.

"You girls having fun yet? The bartender, Declan, knows how to make a heart in the beer foam of a Guinness. Up for it?"

I rubbed the bored glaze from my eyes and practically bolted upright in my seat when I saw Spencer hovering over us with two beers. My mouth metamorphosed into a smile without my permission. Britney gave me the "well, duh" look again and slid over in her booth.

Spencer pushed one of the beers to Britney who studied the beer mug. She laughed, "That's cool. Show Laney."

Spencer leaned across the table with one of the beers. He ordered, "Look fast before it evaporates."

I glanced and mumbled, "Cool." I wasn't trying to be a bitch. I just had a knack for it when I was uncomfortable.

"The guys are about to start. Do you mind if I sit with you while they perform?" Spencer asked, looking to me for approval.

I glanced at Britney and she patted his hand, "Of course you can sit with us."

Britney kicked me under the table. She wanted me to talk. Why was I responsible for this conversation? Damn Justin and his inability to leave well enough alone. I picked at the cheesy goop on top of one of the potato skins and forced polite conversation, "Do you play an instrument?"

Spencer shook his head, "Nah. When I was twelve years old, I heard 'Purple Haze' by Jimi Hendrix and I immediately forced my mother to buy me a guitar--"

I felt my pulse quicken as the word guitar fell off his lips. It may sound a bit outlandish, but with his accent it came out sounding like "gee-tah" and I found that almost irresistible. God, there was something seriously wrong with me. I blurted out, "A guitar? Really?"

Spencer sipped on his drink. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and asked, "Do you guys mind?"

I shrugged and Britney replied, "I wouldn't even be able to tell. The place is filled with smoke."

I watched the way Spencer lit the cigarette. He spun the wheel on his Zippo Lighter with the caress of Montgomery Clift and took a long drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a strange sexiness. He said, "I bought this guitar and practiced for weeks. The weeks turned into months and I still didn't get any better. It was terrible. My older brother tape-recorded me one night to convince me to stop. It seems as much as I love Jimi Hendrix, I was born without any musical talent..." He allowed his voice to trail off as he raised his Marlboro to his mouth. He patted the ashes off the long stem and went on, "...so instead, I settled for the next best thing. I work for people who can make music."

I wanted to tell him that I understood. I wanted to tell him how I always wanted to be a painter, but I had no talent for it. I said, "That's cool."

He smiled, "Yeah, it is, but it doesn't do me much good with the girls though."

Britney rolled her eyes, "Like you really have such problems attracting women with those baby blues of yours, boy."

Spencer nudged her in the side playfully, "Well, I try, but you still aren't returning my phone calls, Brit."

Britney chuckled, "Unfortunately, Justin swept me off my feet long before I met you."

"With Justin, the correct terminology is knocked off your feet," I pointed out.

Britney nodded in agreement, "Oh yeah." Britney waved her hand in my direction and added, "Laney is Justin's best friend from way back. You should see the two of them together, Spence. It's like a movie."

"A movie?" I asked.

"Definitely. The way you two fight is like something out of a movie."

"Must be a black comedy," I said sarcastically.

Spencer shook his head, "I've only met Justin a few times. He seems like a nice guy."

People always assumed that I expected them to like Justin or something. I mean it wasn't very often that someone didn't like Justin once they met him, but I never did understand why people needed to reinforce their good feelings towards him with me. It's not like I cared if you liked him or not.

Spencer took my silence to equal acceptance and he said, "You two seem really different though. How did you guys meet?"

Before I could reply, Britney explained, "Justin and Laney were neighbors when he first moved to Orlando. Laney totally charmed him with her lack of basketball skills and something about a date with Daisy Duck that he's never quite explained."

I felt my face flush. Justin sure did have a Big Mouth. Was nothing sacred in our friendship? Not to mention, the fact that Britney knew that much about the beginnings of our friendship made me feel a bit guilty. It appeared that Justin was proud of our friendship and I hid it in a closet like it was a secret shoe fetish or something.

Spencer motioned his head in the direction of the stage, "Good friends come in handy for some things, don't they?"

"I guess," I replied calmly although I was feeling anything but sedate. My eyes scurried around the room for something to concentrate on. I was not going to pay any attention to Spencer O'Grady. I wasn't going to give Britney or Justin the satisfaction.

Okay, so that was about the biggest lie I've ever uttered. I tried not to pay attention to Spencer, I really did, but it was an unfeasible act. It was as if by telling myself that I was going to disregard Spencer's existence, I had placed some sort of hex on myself. He was consuming my thoughts like a cheesy romance novel. It didn't help that Spencer was completely unnerving. He was funny. He was gorgeous. He had an accent...and he had this way of making a person feel completely comfortable around him. I was in serious trouble. I had no shield from his eyes and smile. I had no one to protect me from him at the end of the evening.

"Well, I need to get back to the hotel. Some of us have seven am interviews and have to be damn charming," Britney moaned, pushing Spence to move out of the booth.

I yawned, as if just realizing that it had been a long day, and asked, "What time is it?"

Britney picked up Spence's hand and studied his watch, "Nearly one in the morning."

"What?" I questioned with disbelief.

"Shit. I didn't realize how late it had gotten," Spence stood up. He picked his lighter up off the table and stuffed it in his pocket. His eyes roamed over the lingering crowd and he explained, "Dougie and the guys were having a party at his loft after their performance. I sent them ahead without me--but shit."

Brit shot me another look that I couldn't quite read. She slipped into her jacket and waved for Tim to rejoin us. He had been stationed by the bar most of the night with a permanent scowl etched on his face. She asked, "Are you ready to get out of here, Laney?"

"Yeah. I have an early class tomorrow," I replied.

Spencer smiled at me and offered, "I'm heading downtown for this party. Laney, why don't we share a cab? We're going the same way where as Britney's hotel is up this way. This way we can save Britney an extra trip and avoid robbing her of her precious beauty sleep."

Britney punched him in the arm and replied, "You're lucky I like you. Talking to a pop princess like that could you get you fired, Spence."

"I keep trying to remind myself of that, but you remind me of my kid sister, Brit. I've told you that."

Britney leaned in and whispered to me, "Which is the real reason that Justin has nothing to worry about." Britney's eyes shifted between the two of us and she added, "So it's okay to trust you guys to get yourselves home safely?"

"As long as Laney is okay with it," Spencer answered, putting his leather jacket on, and awaiting a reply from me.

I decided that "hell yeah" was not exactly playing it cool like all the magazines recommended girls do. I shrugged noncommittally and said, "Sure. It makes more sense that way anyhow."

We all walked out into the freezing cold weather. My skin reacted to the radical change of temperature from the smoky warmth of the pub to the stinging wind of the streets of New York. I went to hail a cab, but Spencer beat me to it. I studied his silhouette as he opened the door of the taxicab and scowered his appearance for some sort of flaw. They always had a flaw. There was no such thing as a perfect guy. In my case, there was no such thing as a mediocre guy.

Spencer waved me over, "Laney, are you coming?"

"Sure..." I turned to Britney who was waiting for her limousine to pull around. I said, "Justin gets back next week. Tell him that his plan has failed and to stop it."

Britney smirked, "I'll talk to him, Laney, but I'm not so sure he's failed…or should I say that I didn't fail. I think it's pretty safe to assume that Justin was scraping the bottom of the barrel for guys for you. He's way too possessive to find you a decent guy on his own."

I was momentarily overcome with Britney's choice of language. Possessive? I smiled feebly and muttered, "That's one way to classify the guys Justin deems appropriate for me."

"Here's the other way: Losers," Britney replied flatly. Her eyes wandered to Spencer and she smiled, "Someone's waiting for you."

"Later," I called out. I watched my breath mist before my eyes and turned towards the cab. I felt my hands shaking. It was such a strange thing. It wasn't like I was never attracted to a guy before. I shoved them in my pockets and told the cabbie where to drive.

Lit by the headlights on passing cars and fluorescent business signs, his face was a study in dark and light. Several minutes passed. He said nothing, I said nothing. Trapped in the taxicab with him, I was acutely aware of the smell of his shampoo. I averted my eyes away from him, focusing on the people meandering on the sidewalks as I attempted to avoid his aroma.

As the cab came to a halt for a light, Spencer turned to me and said, "Laney, it was a pleasant surprise seeing you again."

I nodded.

Spencer cleared his throat and continued, "Would it be--would you want to get together again? I spend a lot of time on the road with Britney's crew, but we're here for the next few weeks. Would you want to go out to dinner or something?"

"Dinner?"

"Yes, it's a meal...usually in the evening," he replied with a small smile.

His eyes swept over me, and my skin tingled as if he had touched me. I shook my head, "I know what dinner is, I was just--midterms are coming up and I don't know if--"

"I don't want to pressure you or anything. I just figured...boy do I sound like an idiot," Spencer replied, scratching the hair on his chin.

"No," I replied. I shut my eyes wondering if someone else maybe said that. No? What kind of answer is no?

"No, you don't want to go out for dinner or no, I'm not an idiot?"

I laughed, feeling the last of my nervousness deteriorate. I patted his leg--quite forward for a girl like me--and said, "No, you're not an idiot. You have a strange fascination with compounds and that Ode to Cyndi Lauper you did back at the pub was a bit frightening, but you aren't stupid."

Spencer turned so that he was facing me. He grinned shamelessly and said, "In the short time I've known you, I've come to realize that's a compliment. So I'll take it...and we're here."

The taxi came to an abrupt stop, practically swinging up on the curb. I reached in my pocket for money, but Spencer slapped my hand away, "I've got."

"Uh-huh," I managed. I groaned. My ability to speak around Spencer was a momentary lapse in my humiliation cycle. I yelled at myself to open the door of the cab--to pull the lever and run off, but my feet felt like they were plastered to the smelly carpeting.

"Laney, I need your phone number."

"Oh yeah," I groaned again. He wouldn't call. There was no way he would call now. I was such a special education case that he was just taking the number to be polite. I reached into my bag and pulled out a piece of paper. I scribbled down my phone number, hesitating before I gave it to him. Was this really what I wanted?

Before I could bolt without a word, Spencer pried the piece of paper from my grasp and shook my hand, "I must say, Laney, that this evening was quite enjoyable. I'm glad you and Britney decided to revolt against Valentine's Day."

"Well, someone has to," I commented. Spencer was close, so close, too close, and I felt smothered by him in the car, but I still couldn't move. Accidentally or deliberately his hand brushed against my hair.

I pushed the door open, attempting to regain some semblance of sanity and space. Spencer leaned toward me, "Wait." The wind whipped around us and the cabbie glared at me to either get in or out.

I stared at Spencer, not sure why I was waiting. Before I realized what was happening, Spencer moved closer. His lips brushed mine gently and he whispered, "I'll call you."

I couldn't speak. My mind was replaying the softness of his lips. I blinked a few times and stepped out on to the sidewalk outside my building. I felt my hands tremble and my face prickle with energy as I peered into the car window. I said, "Night Spence."

"Night Laney," he replied before the taxi took off.

I knew I was in trouble. I had this weird feeling that Spencer might be my very own Jake Ryan and the idea terrified me. I was not a lovey-dovey person. I was not selfless or whimsical. I had no yearnings to recklessly abandon reason for any man. And yet, I was standing outside in the cold watching as the taxi became a yellow blur and then vanished from my vision.

This was not a good sign. It was beginning to look like Justin had won a round in master manipulations. Maybe he was right after all. Dammit.

Did she just say that I was right about something? Laney Jane never admits that she is wrong about anything. Even when she knows she's completely off base, she will deny, deny, deny. It's embedded in her internal wiring. No matter what the topic or the situation, she stares at me wide-eyed and innocent and says something like, "I'm not wrong, Justin. I think you misheard me."

I've grown accustomed to taking the blame for pretty much everything in our friendship. And, in fairness, she usually is right about most things (like the time I thought we could recreate a volcano eruption using mud and a cherry bomb-we both got grounded for a month over that one). It's what I get for choosing a nerd for a best friend. Well, it figures the first time that I get to be right about anything involves Spencer O'Grady. What kind of name is Spencer O'Grady anyway? It sounds like a brand name for rice or crab cakes. I could just see the guy posing on a cardboard box in a slicker.

I didn't really know Spencer that well. He worked for Jive, but he worked mostly with Britney as her Jive Liaison. He got paid to kiss ass. He worked as an intermediary for the Jive Bigwigs and the artists. He kept everyone happy and able to tolerate one another. I decided a long time ago that someone who did something like that had to be a complete phony. Britney told me that he was a cool guy. The girls in her entourage would go on about how absolutely adorable he was, but I had my doubts. I mean the women in the lives of guys like Spencer considered most sociopaths amazing until they were murdered in their sleep. And sure…maybe Spencer wasn't exactly a sociopath but he also wasn't a guy I could see Laney with. Laney Jane needed someone a bit more-well, she needed someone different than Spencer.

Needless to say, I wasn't a bundle of joy when I walked into Britney's suite after a month away to find Laney and Spencer sitting on the couch with an appearance of familiarity. He had his arm draped over her shoulder like they were close in some way that left me a bit confused. It took Laney a good year before she felt comfortable letting me touch her and yet some stranger was invading her personal space so nonchalantly that I had to resist the urge to punch him in the face.

I stood in the foyer area of the suite for what felt like hours, watching Laney Jane and Spencer discussing eighties sitcoms. Neither of them seemed to hear the door open or noticed me standing there. I finally coughed and felt two sets of eyes turn to me.

I tried to hide my discomfort with the situation unfolding before my eyes. I folded my arms and grinned smugly, "Laney Jane, I know you miss me when I go away, but is it really a good idea to wait for me at my girlfriend's place?"

She pulled away from Spencer and moved over next to me. I was caught off guard when she hugged me. Usually I had to initiate any type of closeness between the two of us. Something was definitely going on and I wasn't sure I liked the way Spencer was watching the two of us. My hands instinctively ran up Laney's arms and I tightened the embrace. I locked eyes with Spencer and smirked in his direction.

Laney pulled back and smiled, "So how was the trip home?"

"Long and boring and the movie was Magnolia. I nearly cried myself to sleep, but Tom Cruise's voice kept popping into my head."

Laney giggled. She actually giggled-like a girly little laugh that made my stomach turn-and commented, "You've got issues, Justin."

"You're not the one who had to sit through that piece of crap. Four hours of my life I'll never get back, Laney Jane. FOUR LONG HOURS."

"Kind of like Titanic, which you kept dragging me to."

"I thought you liked Leonardo DiCaprio."

"Uh-huh. We'll pretend that's why we saw the movie five times. I thought it was because of the love that survives everything mentality that makes you weep," she paused when she saw my face contort with embarrassment and shook her head, "It's okay, Justin. If it wasn't so gay, I might have sniffled at the 'I'll never let go, Jack' moment too."

"As I recall you bitched at the movie screen that Rose should stop being a fat cow and make room on the plywood for Jack," I countered.

"Oh yeah. That was the day I got in the fight with the thirty year old. I still say I could've taken the guy."

"Right. I'm sure that's true."

"You don't think I could have taken the guy?"

"No, I believe it, but you were the one yelling obscenities at the movie screen, Laney Jane."

"It was stupid. After five times, I snapped. If Rose had just stayed on the damn lifeboat, Jack would have lived. Instead, he saved her life and sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her stupidity got her boyfriend killed. I hope she lived with that guilt for all of her eight hundred years on earth."

"Nothing wrong with believing in destiny and soulmates, Laney…speaking of soulmates, where is my girlfriend? She told me to come right here from the airport and the girl isn't waiting by the door for me."

"She's in the bedroom, freshening up for her man," Laney replied, raising her hand to her forehead.

I pulled her hand away from her face and asked, "And why are you here?" Laney went to protest and I added, "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Laney Jane. I'm just not used to finding you in my girlfriend's hotel room with strange men."

"Strange men? It's Spencer. He works with Britney."

"Well, I know that, but how do you know that?"

Laney crossed her arms and whispered, "Don't act like you weren't behind my introduction to Spencer."

"What?"

"Please, Justin, I know that you put Britney up to finding me a boyfriend."

"I did no such thing-" I paused. I pulled Laney out of Spencer's view since the guy had some sort of staring problem where she was concerned. I leaned in close and said, "I did not tell Britney to set you up with Spencer O'Grady. I barely know the guy."

"You know what I mean. You put Britney in charge of your little pet project. She just happens to be better at it than you are."

My eyebrows raised and I asked, "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means Spencer is actually a decent guy unlike the collection of idiots you shoved down my throat last month," Laney explained.

I stood there a bit stunned. I should've been happy. This was what I wanted. I wanted Laney to have a boyfriend, but she needed someone who would treat her right. Spencer wasn't the guy for her. He shopped at Banana Republic for god's sake. I rubbed my temples as if I could gain better understanding if I forced my brain to work and asked quietly, "Are you telling me that you and Spencer are-"

"I have no idea what we are. We've gone out a few times and he's actually normal--no nervous ticks, no strange affinities for Star Trek, and he's not gay. That's a step in a good direction for me."

"Laney, are you sure…the guy seems a bit strange if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you. Now, go say hi to your girlfriend so we can eat already."

"We?"

"Yeah. The reason I'm here. Britney thought the four of us could go out to dinner and you could tell us all those fabulous overseas anecdotes that you've learned," Laney said dryly.

I smiled. I could do dinner. If Britney had picked Spencer out, he couldn't be a complete jackass. She did have amazing taste. Besides, it would give me the chance to get to know the guy and make sure he would treat Laney right. And things were looking up. Laney wasn't hiding from me and she actually hugged me when I came in. She and I were getting back to normal. If Spencer could help me keep Laney around, I guessed I could ignore the sick feeling in my gut.

I handed Laney my bag and said, "Dinner sounds good. Just promise me we'll go somewhere with good 'ole American cheeseburgers filled with all those fatty frills that you can't find anywhere else."

"I promise to help you clog your arteries to the best of my abilities," Laney said, making the sign of the cross across her chest.

I grinned and kissed her forehead. I pinched her cheeks, "You are just too good to me, Laney Jane. What would I do without your constant commentary on my life?"

"Surely you would be in therapy for years, watching really bad movies, and utilizing quotes like 'you complete me' on a regular basis," she replied hanging her head in shame.

I rolled my eyes, "Take my bag while I go kiss my girlfriend." I started to walk off and stopped abruptly, "Oh and Laney? There's a gift for you."

"A gift? Is it my birthday and I forgot?"

I moved in closer. I could sense that Spencer was still observing us and I really didn't think it was any of his business. I leaned in and spoke softly, "I know that we haven't been at our best as far as our friendship goes, but I wanted to let you know that you're still one of the most important people in my life-"

"Justin, would you-"

I ignored her protests, "I know it's mushy and not your style, but too bad. I wanted to do something nice for you, Laney Jane. I wanted to remind you why you shouldn't walk away from our friendship."

"I wasn't walking away from our friendship," she muttered. I could see the guilt in her brown eyes and her face was shadowed with a strange sadness I wasn't used to seeing. I could always sense the anger and the amusement and the happiness, but she never really let me see her sad before.

I shook my head, "I didn't tell you this stuff to make you cry or anything. I'm not sure I would know how to handle it, if you turned out to be a girl, Laney."

The flicker of sadness disappeared and was replaced with annoyance, "God forbid I actually be a girl."

"This coming from the person who compares the idea of girls liking me to root canal. I'm so sure you're offended," I countered.

She laughed-her laugh, not that girly giggle from earlier-and said, "Good point…and you still owe me a talk, Justin."

Dammit. We were back to the talk. I had managed to avoid thinking about talking with Laney and I had almost forgotten that Hawaii ever happened. I was able to ignore the strange sereneness of being that close to Laney…

"Go see your girlfriend already. I'm starving," Laney pulled me out of my thoughts. She pushed me towards the bedroom door. I glared in Spencer's direction, but forced myself to wave at him. I wouldn't make any snap judgments. I would get to know Spencer before I decided I hated him.

"Open the gift and be prepared to grovel at my feet forever."

"I'm sure I will, egotistical one," she replied, kneeling down to open my bag.

I caught myself watching Laney for a moment. Her hair was pushed forward, practically covering her eyes as she dug through my bag. It gave me a full view of her neck-the curves and the nape where wisps of hair clung. I closed my eyes and practically ran into the other room. I noticed Britney applying lipstick in the mirror and I wrapped my arms around her from behind.

I kissed her neck and smiled at her in the mirror, "Hey baby."

"Oh no. Justin, what are you doing here? My other boyfriend is here and he'll be upset to see you."

"Like I didn't already know about your affair with Cliff, the stable boy," I commented. I kissed her cheek and took in Britney's figure. It helped me forget Laney and the way that Spencer was staring at her like he wanted to eat her alive.

Britney rolled her eyes, "Laney has a big mouth."

"Laney didn't say anything. You have a tendency to talk in your sleep, sweetheart," I replied, falling back on her bed. My eyes felt heavy and I sighed, "Oh, this feels nice." I felt Britney's body on top of mine and she yanked me upright. My eyes fluttered open and I groaned, "Gee, you've got the loving touch."

"You're not going to sleep, mister. I put a lot of hard work into getting Laney and Spencer together. We're all going out so you can see firsthand that you can stop putting so much effort into Laney's love life."

I rolled my eyes, "Spencer…what the hell were you thinking, Brit? Spencer is not the type of guy I would pick for Laney."

"And what's wrong with Spencer? He's intelligent, funny, handsome-"

"He's too put together. I don't trust it. He could really hurt Laney."

"Any guy could hurt Laney, Justin."

"You know what I mean."

Britney hopped off the bed and her hands fell on her hips, "I really don't know. You said that all of this would go away once you found a guy for Laney. I did what you asked me to do. I found her a great guy that's associated with Jive and Spencer really likes Laney."

"Like the way he was gawking at her didn't make that abundantly clear," I snapped.

Britney's eyes widened and she whispered, "You're jealous."

"What? It's not like he hit on you…did he?"

"Justin, plenty of guys hit on me and nothing happens. You never pay attention to the guys that throw themselves at me so don't act confused. I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about Laney. You're jealous."

"No, I'm not. I'm tired. I just got in from a long trip where I got hardly any sleep and had to listen to JC make-up and break-up with his girlfriend about twenty different times," I paused when I noticed the hurt on Britney's face. I reached for her hands and pulled her down on the bed next to me. I kissed her and whispered, "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight with you."

"I know you're protective of Laney, but give Spence a chance. They're cute together, J."

I groaned inwardly, but I played it off. I didn't want Britney making absurd assumptions about jealousy again. I wasn't jealous. I had a girlfriend that I loved. I kissed Britney again and said, "I trust your judgment. I just wish you and I could have the night to ourselves."

Britney laughed, "I thought you were tired."

"Tired, not dead, Brit," I said with a coy look.

Britney pushed me back, "Cold shower, honey. The rest of us are starving."

I sat up and replied, "Fine. We'll eat."

I heard Laney shriek from the other room. Britney glanced at me, "What the hell-"

I waved her off, "Laney is just impressed with the gift I bought for her."

"You bought Laney a gift?"

"Yeah. I saw this thing at a street cart and thought of Laney," my voice trailed off as Britney slammed her drawer shut. I had done something again. There really should've been a book of things not to say to girlfriends to piss them off. I continued, "I got you something too. I was going to wait until later to give it to you."

"It's okay," Britney smiled weakly and said, "We should get going anyhow."

I grabbed Britney and placed her arms around my neck. I rested my forehead against hers and I said, "I love you. You know that."

"I know. I love you too, J. I just-forget it. I don't want to fight with you anymore. Maybe if you see Spence and Laney together it will ease your mind," she said kissing my cheek. She hooked her finger around my belt hook and led me out into the main room.

Laney ran over and hugged me again. Okay, that was twice in one hour that she had been touchy-feely with me. It was a bit strange, but I could definitely get used to it. She shook her head, "Where the hell did you find this?"

Britney looked at Spence and asked, "What is she talking about?"

"I'm not sure. All I keep getting out of her are shrieks and 'I can't believe he remembered that.' It must be a good gift. I'm not sure I've seen Laney speechless before, Justin," Spencer replied.

I glared at him. It wasn't like I meant to be rude, but he was talking about Laney like he knew her better than I did. I said, "Well, I have a gift for shocking Laney. She seems to think I never pay attention to her long-winded rambles."

"Because you usually don't," Laney pointed out. She handed the box to Britney and said, "A few years ago I dragged Justin to the old picture house and made him see Philadelphia Story with me. He complained the whole way to the movie, but I know he liked it as much as I did."

"Katharine Hepburn was a babe in her day…I always did like 'em feisty," I commented.

"Anyway, I told him that I always wanted to have a guy who took me around on a yacht named True Love…in theory of course. If it were to happen in real life, I'd probably run away and tell everyone about the freak with the boat…" Laney's voice trailed off. She looked at me and said, "I can't believe you remembered that."

"We were in Paris and I found this guy selling miniature boats. I bought one and had someone paint it with the True Love logo on it. It's not a big deal, Laney."

Laney shook her head. I got lost in the brown of her eyes and the happiness reflected in them. It had been too long since she was that happy about something I did for her. Lately she practically oozed hatred and frustration. She hugged me again, "I love it, Justin. Thanks."

"I've never seen Philadelphia Story. We should rent it sometime, J," Britney said.

"I've never seen it either," Spencer added.

Laney turned to him and said, "You've never seen it? Spencer, allow me to culture you in the world of Cary Grant."

"Poor guy. You'll have fun."

"Well, whatever Laney likes is fine with me."

I rolled my eyes. Was this guy for real with this stuff? "Uh…okay, who's hungry?"

Three arms raised in the air. I went into my bag to retrieve my wallet and reached for Britney's hand. I glanced at Laney and Spencer. I decided I should try to make some small talk with Spencer. I said, "Spencer, dinner should be good. We can get to know each other a bit."

"Uh-huh. You seem to have both these girls wrapped around your finger. I need to take some lessons from you, man," Spencer replied. Both Laney and Britney laughed like it was the funniest thing they ever heard. I wasn't as impressed.

It was going to be a long night.

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chapter eight

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