Trace Ayala narrowed his eyes on her perfectly manicured finger. The strand of golden blond wound and unwound itself around it, over and over, until he felt he might explode with frustration. Then there was that sound ’thhhsssss…snap’. Gum. Sometimes he couldn’t stand people. Hell, sometimes he couldn’t’ stand women. He couldn’t stand his girlfriend either, especially at this very moment in time, since they’d been fighting non stop since Tuesday. Justin told him it was a phase. “You gotta decide where your mind is at man.” Fuck. He didn’t know where it was. All he knew was that he was drinking way too much Jack Daniels this week, and he didn’t want to be.

His current project helped to relieve his stressful situation. He liked going to the factory every day. He liked learning all the employees names, making them feel special. He liked going in, getting his hands dirty. Personally selecting stitching, buttons…zippers. It was passion, magic. It brought out a part of him that was usually hidden…buried inside of him where nobody could access it. It wasn’t allowed out, because if it was he would start to get jealous. Jealous of all the attention Justin got, and jealous of the fact that people looked right past him and flirted with his girlfriend just because she was on the TV sometimes. Or maybe…just jealous because she seemed to like being flirted with, when he was standing next to her; in the god damn thousand dollar suit she made him wear to the stupid fuckin premiere…

Oh hell.

“So yeah.” The blond crossed her smooth ivory legs and smiled, flashing her perfectly bleached white teeth at him. “I did that for a year. Then I waited tables for awhile, and then I answered phones at Doctor Lauretti’s office for six months.”

Justin picked her, and it figured. Girlfriend and all he still had taste in women. He stifled a laugh. It was sick. “Well you seem…qualified,“ he lied. Body wise, hell yeah. She totally qualified. He couldn’t deny it…the tit and ass man that he was. She had the whole package, and he certainly wouldn’t’ have minded walking into his office every day and bidding her a good morning. Hell, maybe he’d even be able to bid her a good night if he was lucky enough. Christ, he wanted to kick himself for the thought…

He was engaged after all.

Twisting the ring on his finger a few times, he let out a breath and looked down at Tanya Parker’s resume. It was of course, as she had stated. But an airhead like her wouldn’t’ be able to make shit up and get away with it, that he knew. But, was this it? Was this the woman he was going to put in charge of INVENTORY ACCOUNTS, and shit like that? He looked up at her again. God, she was beautiful sitting there. “We’ll give you a call Tanya.“ He forced the best smile for her that he could. No. He knew that he couldn’t give her the job, as much as it pained him to admit it to himself. He reached out, and shook her tiny hand. It was slender, warm…smooth. “It’s been nice getting to know you.”

“Likewise,” she cooed.

Yes. Very nice.

With another sexy smile, Tanya Parker rose up from the padded leather office chair, and swaggered out of the room. Out of his life she was…just like countless other beautiful women he’d had the pleasure of interviewing this week. Yes, the list was getting shorter by the day, and everybody was growing impatient with his hostility toward the situation. “Just hire somebody,” Danny had muttered over cappuccinos the previous night. “Any girl that can type and take notes from a phone call, is fair game Trace. She doesn’t have to have a brain…just common sense.”

Trace had been hanging around beautiful women for what seemed like forever. Fifteen years old, he’d been hanging out in European bars and clubs with his best friend and the four other members of NSYNC. The girls were plentiful, the drinks were on the record companies budget, and there wasn’t a person in the world to tell them what to do. He learned what it meant to be an adult that year…the decisions that came along with beautiful women. Sex was fun but, it came with a dear dear price at times. Seventeen, he fell in love with Laura. Three years later she cheated, and he found himself spiraling down in a whirl wind of Jack Daniels, late night raves, and stupid celebrity crammed parties with Britney and Justin. Two years and three pointless relationships later, Justin had found himself in the same bullshit predicament. Britney cheating…a broken heart. Comrades since diapers, he’d been there for his friend, and they vowed to stop taking women so damn seriously….

Well, until last year anyway.

They’d decided to go to the stupid party because well…JC was in town. And when JC was in town, the hot spots simply had to be hit up. JC was a party hound by nature, always had been. And he seemed to flip Justin’s party switch whenever he came around. Not that Justin wasn’t a partier. He was…a big one. But he wasn’t the type to go out every single night of every single month. Maybe…it was just because he was still busy. Work was still plentiful for him. He’d worked hard for it…they both had. And of course, it paid off in the best way imaginable. JC’s solo venture hadn’t been so successful of course, and for this he became a little washed out; halfway to being a has been, but not totally accepting this fact. Party hound…sadly, it was an escape for Joshua.

But he was still one of the dopest guys around.

He’d spotted her at the bar, sitting there, casually circling her finger around the rim of her empty martini glass. He’d actually been at the bar not only to get himself a shot, but to get a drink for the pretty brunette he’d met only moments before. The brunette had seemed almost into him. Hell, they were all ‘almost’ into him. But he knew he’d have to get her good and tipsy before shed think about dancing with his short ass. She’d told him Jack and Coke…his kind of woman, so he’d happily obliged. But…he’d practically forgotten her name, hell…what she even looked like, the moment he eyed the pretty blond martini girl.

Casually, he’d slid himself onto the stool beside her, not being able to believe that she was alone, not hanging all over some pretty boy that still looked good when he was half dead with the flu and had a runny nose. Justin could do that. And he’d always envied the bastard for it. “Empty glass.” It was the first thing he’d ever said to her, and probably the most random thing he’d ever said to a girl in his lifetime.

“I know.” She’d picked up the toothpick, which still had the olive attached to it, and slid it into her mouth. “But why are you worried?”

She intrigued him off the bat. Seductively mysterious. That was Elisha in a nutshell. Pretty blond hair fell nicely at her bare shoulders that night, and her flashy black and silver striped Prada had accented her features nicely against the neon lights of the rave. “If you’re thirsty you can’t dance.” He’d snapped his fingers at the bartender, an old habit that had rubbed off from Justin, and ordered their drinks.

“I can’t see you dancing,” she’d laughed. He always loved how she laughed. “You have Nike’s on.”

He’d looked down at his shoes, and frowned. Justin had the same kind of get up going on. Blazer, tee shirt, dress pants and sneakers. But yet, he was hot. The girls thought his casual/sloppy statement made him that much more appealing. He just didn’t’ get it. Trace wasn’t the type to think badly about himself. He probably had a better outlook about himself than anybody knew. But with girls…girls were weird with him. If they knew who he was friends with, nine times out of ten they wanted a date, and he’d always turn them down because of this. But if they didn’t’…if they just thought he was a normal guy, nine times out of ten they would tell him to get a clue. The few times it actually worked, the few times a girl actually cared enough to give him a chance…it eventually blew up in his face anyway. Yet he still tried. Maybe because he didn’t’ want Justin to be the only one having fun. “Well, then dancing’s out,” he’d smiled wryly. Then it was time to pull out the good old fashioned ‘connections’ routine. “But I can get you into VIP.”

But she’d barely flinched. “My date is in VIP.”

Mortified, he’d practically ran away from her. Any minute, any second, he’d pictured a guy storming over to them; claiming possession of the beauty who’d been sitting beside him for ten minutes. “Shouldn’t have bought you that drink then,” he’d nodded.

“Oh no, you should have,” she’d said, the fierce blue of her eyes gleaming wildly against the bright neon. “I doubt he even cares where I am right now. I was just on my way out anyway.”

“How’s that possible?” He hadn’t mean to sound like such a tart. Normally, he would have said something sarcastic. Something to make her pissed, but not so pissed that she didn’t want him. But he’d known there was something special about her. Something he couldn’t quite put his thumb on. Well…at least that was the way he’d felt back then. “A girl like you bein’ ditched by her date?”

Then she’d smiled. The smile he rarely saw once enough time had passed, and he knew what she was really like. “You wanna go somewhere?”

Yeah. Those first few months were the best ones.

The phone was ringing. He didn’t’ know how long it had been ringing. All he knew was that it was, and it wouldn’t stop. He picked it up, hesitating a moment before answering. “William---”

“Man, are you still at the fuckin factory?” Justin’s voice was antsy, impatient. Today he was at the jewelers, and Trace knew he was supposed to have met him there over an hour ago. But the interviews had run late. The first girl had run late, and the rest kept him talking. He felt like shit, he really did. But business was business. Justin was always able to understand that.

He blew out a long breath. “Interviews, sorry man. Did you pick one?”

“No.” It was a moan, and Trace smiled a little. Justin was such a fuckin wimp when it came to sentimental shit, and it was hilarious to him. “Man I don’t know…I don’t know which one is the best one, Trace.”

“A ring is a ring.” Elisha’s ring was two carats. The center stone being a full carat and the two side stones being halfs. It wasn’t the most expensive ring in the store he‘d went to, but it was the one he’d wanted for her. He’d spent hours in the store, looking, debating, wondering why he was so hell bent on getting engaged in the first place. She’d wanted to, he knew that. But he thought it was more. Like, he was scared that if things didn’t turn out for the best this time, with this girl; they simply weren’t going to…ever. More so, Justin had been planning his proposal date carefully, and Trace had known it was only going to be a matter of time before the inevitable happened. As selfish as he knew it was, for once he’d wanted to be first. He’d wanted to beat Justin to the punch at something…

But looking back on it now he’d wished he’d just taken his damn time.

“A ring is a ring?” Justin whined pathetically. “Trace, did you shove your head in your ass this morning?”

He laughed heartily. “Dude, you know how Cam is. She’s reserved and simple. She uses coupons on the groceries and shit. Please…don’t go nuts. She loves you man. She doesn’t need you to buy some big expensive ring to prove that to her.”

His friend was silent, but Trace knew exactly what Justin was doing at that very moment. Standing in the back room at Tiffany’s, he was probably holding two ridiculously expensive rings in his hands. One that Cameron wouldn’t want anything to do with, because it was too big and bulky, and another that was simple, but elegant and charming at the same time. That was the one Justin needed to pick, and if Trace could get out of the damn office he would have been there to make sure of it. But as his eyes scanned the rest of the list, and spotted two more names that weren’t’ checked off, he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m goin to fuck this all up,” Justin sighed. “And she’s going to think I’m an idiot. And…who wants to marry an idiot right? Nobody.”

Justin was silly in love with his woman, and it was about damn time he got the chance to be. Cameron was the one girl that was too old, too mature, and too experienced for the stupid shit that his last four girlfriends had put him through. She was a good woman, she treated her man fair…with love and respect. And Trace had a ton of respect for her because of this. He wouldn’t ever tell Justin, but he knew that the guy needed a woman to be there…to take care of him when things got really out of hand, as they tended to do. Not that he wasn’t mature. It was quite the opposite actually. But…vulnerable. That was the word. Justin was too nice, and in the end, it usually fucked over him in the worst way.

Trace remembered a time that he’d been silly in love too. Elisha had been great for awhile. Great to him, great to be around and love. They’d had fun. He’d done things and seen things with her that he’d never been able to experience with any other girl. But now, it was all gone. It was like somebody had come and sucked all of the life out of their relationship, their sex life. She wasn’t the same woman anymore. She worked constantly, when she could get work. And she was hungry for attention…everywhere they went. He didn’t understand. He’d always thought he’d given her plenty of attention. But yet…she didn’t’ seem to think so. She pointed it out a lot. When they went out, when they hung out with Justin and Cameron…

And especially in the bedroom.

“I’m still in the middle,” he forced himself to say, so the subject of Elisha and fucking mistakes would escape from his mind. “I have a couple more interviews.”

Justin laughed playfully. “You still didn’t pick anybody? You son of a bitch…all the women I bring to your doorstep and what do you do? You turn them down. That’s a slap in the face, man…and I want you to know that. It hurts me like a slapped red headed step child feels.”

“You’re such a fag,” he muttered.

“Dick.”

“At least I can pick a ring in a timely manner,” Trace shot back.

Justin let out a groan. “I hate rings. I mean, why can’t people just get engaged and give watches? I have a knack for pickin’ out watches.”

Trace smiled. “Don’t crap your pants, Justin. If you’re still there when I’m done, I’ll come help you out okay?”

“How many you got left?”

He glanced down at the paper again. “Two.”

“So hire the next girl that walks in.”

He sighed. “I’m not doing that unless I like her.”

“You’re so fuckin stubborn. And you know, Danny’s been complaining. I mean, we have press in three weeks Trace, and we barely have half the shit done that needs doing.”

“You think I don’t know that,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Hell Justin, I do more work than you do.”

“Ah-ah,” Justin laughed. “But that’s the way you wanted it.”

It was true. He did want it. Trace loved the clothing business. He didn’t know why. It was something that he’d gotten into early on in Justin’s career. Some of the wardrobe people had shown him little tricks. Fun stuff, to make Justin’s street clothes stand out when he went to parties and premiers. The denim was the most intriguing. The tearing and splitting. The different wash patterns. He’d always wanted to try it on his own, but Justin was never one to over merchandise himself. It took years of begging, pleading, and doing countless stupid favors for Justin to get him to even consider the idea of putting his name on a clothing line. But finally, the right guy came along, with the right line and the right idea…and Justin had been sold.

William Rast had the potential to go places. Trace saw it. He saw it in the way Danny talked about it, and inspired the different designs. He saw it in the way the final product came out of the warehouse. How the jeans were crafted…made to last, and wear well. Hell, even if he wasn’t rich, he would pay for jeans like them. It wasn’t a lie either. If they were crap, he would have told himself so and told Justin to pull out while he still had time. But they weren’t crap. They were great…

And with the opportunity to finally put his fashion knowledge to work, Trace was going to make damn sure the line went places.

Now, if only he had a secretary to help with that process.

“Yeah, I know,” Trace chuckled softly. “But hey, let me get these last girls out of the way and I’ll call you back, cool?”

“Yeah cool. Lata playa.”

He laughed. “Later.” He hung up, and took a breath. It was time to face another damn girl, or rather…it was time to reject another damn girl.

But not before he had to answer yet, another phone call.

Trace stopped the phone from ringing again, fully expecting it to be Justin, whining about how he’d found another ring he liked. “William---”

“You know, my mother isn’t happy about the damn china, Trace.”

He used to love it when she called him. “Well what can I do? The coordinator said that they can’t get that pattern, girl. You want me to pull it out of my ass?”

“Funny.”

Silence.

“Elisha…”

“Look, you know…it’s not even about that okay?”

He knew it wasn’t. He wasn’t home anymore. He worked late now…working sometimes til four in the morning at the office with Danny on new sketches. He didn’t mean to…but he was passionate about it. Just like Justin was passionate about his music. Just like Elisha was passionate about her work. Or at least…she pretended to be. “I worked late Elisha. We have press in three weeks, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner with your folks okay?”

“If it was Justin that was making you work the long hours I would understand…but he’s not Trace. All he did was slap his name on a clothing line and now its like…the most important thing in the world to you. I mean, what about us? What about this wedding we’re trying to plan, and what about…the other stuff,” she whimpered.

“I told you we’re going to figure that part out,” he whispered. “I’m gonna be there for you girl. Whatever goes on, I’m gonna be there.”

“You’re not here now, Trace.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip a little. “I cant be there now. I have to finish these interviews, and then I’ll be there.” He paused, the nervousness about the current subject creeping up on him suddenly. He was queasy, with good reason of course, and quickly pulled out the Pepto from the top right hand drawer of the large mahogany desk. “Don’t take the test without me.”

“I don’t loathe you that much.”

He sighed. “You shouldn’t’ loathe me at all.”

The agreement had been, they would get married in the summer and have the kid the next year. But that was when they actually wanted to get married…actually wanted to have kids. So, the first step was taken. The ring was bought, the proposal was made…the date was set. The only part of the agreement that was going down hill now, was that the kid might come a little bit before next year. Well, if she was pregnant anyway. “Did you get EPT? That shits supposed to work nice.“

“I don’t know what the fuck it is. I just picked one, Trace. My god.“

Attitude had taken the magic out of her personality. Fighting for roles…work of any kind, had taken its toll on his girlfriend long ago. She’d been written off 24, the most promising job she’d landed in her career. At first her agent had been promising. He didn’t’ see a problem with it. After all, she was a beautiful girl…she had appeal, and she was damn good at what she did. But auditions weren’t very plentiful, not for the roles she wanted anyway. Sure, she landed a movie or two. But these days, the only time anybody would hear about Elisha Cuthbert…was when she showed up with himself and Justin at some club. It was sad, but true…

And Trace had the feeling that she held it against him. Hell, it wasn’t’ a feeling anymore. He knew it. He knew it and he knew she wanted out. He was good and ready too. Ready to take back the ring, tell her to fuck off and simply move on with his latest obsession. He could forget, yes. Just like he’d forgotten about Laura, and Stacy, and Robyn. Pointless bitches. That was all any of them were. “Well great then,” he muttered. “Let me finish here and then I’ll come when I can.”

“When you can?,” she scoffed. “Christ Trace, this might be your kid inside of me. If you were any kind of a man, you’d be here now.”

He hung up then. It was shady and low, but he didn’t care. He had a job to do. A job…a friend picking out rings who was scared shitless, and he didn’t have time for Elisha’s degrading. He’d had enough of it. He heard it every single damn day, and he couldn’t take it anymore. With a sigh, he forced himself up out of the comfortable office chair and staggered over to the door. He opened it, looked out. There was one lonely looking girl sitting at the far end of the room. She seemed tired, distraught, feelings he knew all too well. Hell, maybe he could relate to this one. Maybe this one would actually be worth his damn time today.

“Uh..” he cleared his throat and looked at the paper he’d brought with him. “Kathryn?”

The woman looked up at him, seemingly shocked. “Oh…no,” she said quickly. “I’m um, Jenna. Maybe I’m in the wrong office?”

He looked down again. Nope, she belonged here. Jenna Kade. It had sort of a nice ring. He looked her up and down. She was nice looking. No, hardly glamorous like the rest. Hardly amazing looking like the bitch of a fiance he had. She was simple. Average. Her stringy mahogany hair hung limply at her shoulders. Her clothes were definitely not something….just…god no. She was going to change that if he hired her. But her face and figure, they weren’t bad at all. She had brilliant brown eyes, with little flecks of yellow mixed in. They stood out, among her plainness, and Trace was taken with them. It was the only thing he was taken with…but he was still taken. Taken enough to go ahead and give her the interview shed been so patiently waiting for. “Jenna Kade,” he nodded.

“Oh.” She seemed surprised. “Yeah.”

He smiled, just slightly. “Don’t worry girl.” He stepped toward his office and held the door open for her with a business like smile. “You’re in the right office.”

********************

Justin picked the bulky ring, much to his dismay. But there wasn’t a damn thing he could have done to convince him otherwise. It was the damn saleswoman‘s fault. “Oh, it’s so romantic!. Look how the stone shines!” What a load of bullshit. The thing was so heavy, Cameron wouldn’t be able to wear it all the time. He knew Justin was going to regret the purchase. But it was unchangeable now. You didn’t’ just return an engagement ring. Not unless you weren’t’ getting married. And Justin and Cameron were so attached to each other, it made him sick at times.

Sick, because it was something he didn’t think he’d ever have.

Trace parked the Mercedes coupe in the garage, and pressed the button above his rearview so the garage would close behind him. One thing he loved was the house. He’d bought it last year, with Elisha’s input of course. But…it was really his. Something he’d worked for. Something he’d taken time with and made his own. Justin was happy for him. Really, more like…happy to have his big ass house to himself so he could fuck Cameron in the laundry room or whatever it was they did when they were alone. But happy all the same.

Trace didn’t get out of the car. Elisha’s car was parked right beside his, and he knew she was sitting in the house…waiting for him to walk through the door. Her stupid fluffy piece of shit cat would hiss at him, like it did every day, and then she would comfort it…not him. Then he would go in the bathroom, Elisha would pee on a stick, and in the matter of five minutes the rest of his life would be decided. If she was pregnant, he wasn’t about to leave. That wasn’t’ how he was raised, and above anything else…he was going to be there for his kid. He knew he wanted one, and he wanted to be a good father. He wouldn’t feel stuck, or burdened or anything like that. And Elisha couldn’t’ make him miserable, not when he had a kid to look forward to raising properly. Deep down, he kind of thought that if she did happen to be pregnant…it might even bring their relationship back to life.

But that was a far fetched thought.

Jenna Kade. She’d hit the marker. She’d been working as a secretary for five years, even temping as a legal secretary for a bit. Despite her plain appearance she’d seemed confident, mature, and sure of herself; unlike the other idiot’s he’d interviewed that week. Trace had known after the first five minutes of talking to her that she was the girl for the job. And after hearing her ramble on about her life for fifteen more minutes, he’d finally crumbled, realizing that he had to get a move on if he was going to satisfy both Justin and his girlfriend in the same day. So, Jenna was coming back the day after tomorrow, so he could introduce her to Justin and Danny. If they liked her…things would finally get moving. Business could start. And his dream would finally…finally be headed in the right direction. A solid direction.

But…it was back to reality for the moment. He had to focus. He had to be kind, sentimental, whipped Trace right now. The one that didn’t’ talk back to Elisha, because he knew she was going to be on edge when he walked in the door. Taking in a long breath, he opened the door, and slid out of his car. He slammed the door behind him, not caring that it could damage the paint polish or whatever the fuck Justin told him the other day when he’d done the same thing, and walked through the passage that led to the house’s entrance. Opening the door an inch, he could already see the damn yellow eyed fuzz ball staring back at him. It was an evil cat, and it hated him. Trace didn’t know why…but it had always been like this. He chuckled a little as he opened the door, and the cat arched its back and hissed loudly. It was like some kind of fucking sign. Get out while you still can.

He pushed his way inside his house, pushing the cat away with his foot as he did so. It meowed loudly in protest, but Trace couldn’t have gave a shit. He tossed his keys down on the table next to the door, and pushed the door closed behind him. “Lish,” he called out tiredly, and plodded down the hallway toward the bedroom. “Elish’.”

“Here.”

Her voice came from the bathroom across the hall, and he frowned, assuming she hadn’t waited for him as he’d instructed. The door was opened a crack, and he pushed it open the rest of the way. “You didn’t wait,” he stated. It wasn’t a question.

She was sitting on the toilet. A tee shirt and panties were all she had on, and her newly shorn blond locks hung down sloppily in her face. Trace could tell she was crying, and he sucked in a breath. So it was true. So he would have a kid. He smiled a little. So something would come out of this relationship. “It’s fine.” He stated, as genuinely as he could. He crouched down in front of her, and pulled her head out of her hands. “Girl, it’s fine.”

“It’s negative,” she sobbed, before pushing him away.

He was so confused. Why would she be upset? After all, just the other day she had pointed out, in this very same bathroom, that she would have rather died of cancer than had his kid right now. Sure, it hurt him. But then…a lot of things about their relationship had been hurting him, for a long time. “I don’t understand why you’re upset,” he said finally. “You didn’t’ want the kid.”

She looked up at him. “You’re going to leave me,” she informed him.

He shook his head. She must have been on something. Yeah. She probably broke into that stash of weed he’d been saving for the coming weekend. “What are you talkin’ about,” he grunted, and picked up the used pee test that rested on the sink. He studied it. What was it…one line your trapped, two lines you can leave? Well whatever, it was one line. He spotted the box in the garbage, and carefully plucked it out so he could read the diagram…

And what he saw confused him even more.

“It says here,” he said, clearing his throat a little. “One line means you’re pregnant.”

Elisha’s head snapped up. “What?” She stood up. “Gimme that.” She snatched the box out of his hands, and studied it for a moment. “I thought it said…oh…”

He stared at her, serious for a moment, but couldn’t help but start to chuckle once he thought about the situation a little. “You retard,” he chided softly, tossing the paper box back into the garbage. “So scared you forgot how to read huh?” He pulled her close to him, and she rested her pretty head against his chest, while he rubbed her back soothingly with his hand.

“The cancer thing,” she whispered. “Trace I was angry…”

“I know,” he told her. She was always angry. Always angry at him, seemingly. “Forget it.”

“No.” She looked up at him, her fierce blue eyes glossed over with gentle tears. “Trace, I don’t want to make you feel like I’ve been making you feel anymore. I know you’ve just been busy, and I guess it’s been getting to me because I can barely find work anymore.” She shook her head, and wiped at her eyes with her hand a little bit. “But I don’t want to lose you baby. I can’t lose you.”

He smiled a little. It was almost a sarcastic one, but at least he was able to smile for her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her, before pulling away. He picked the pee test up again, and tossed it away too.

“If I wasn’t pregnant you would be. Or at least…I’d be packing my bags.”

Maybe it was true. Hell, who was he trying to kid. He knew it was. If the test had been negative today, he was sure they would have been fighting…about something, anything right now. The next step would have been to send her packing, he knew that. But the test wasn’t negative. No…it was very very positive. His kid. His baby. He was having a baby with this woman. This beautiful woman that he tried to love and cherish the best way he knew how.

But yet he knew she was still going to be an unappreciative bitch no matter what happened. “We should make a doctors appointment,” was best thing he could come up with at the moment.

She tried to snuggle up to him again, a soft smile on her face. But Trace didn’t’ want to be a part of that right now. He realized he needed space. Time to think and sort out things in his head. What did a baby really mean to him? Sure, he knew it was exciting, and he knew he would love to be a father and teach his kid everything he knew. But what was it like? What kind of new responsibilities was he going to have to master? Parenting was a world away from paperwork and itineraries, that he knew. Yes…he needed to go driving. Without her. “I’m gonna go get dinner,” he lied.

“Oh.” Elisha crossed her arms, and sat down on the toilet lid again.

It could start an argument, but he wasn’t going to give it the chance to turn into something.

“You know, you can’t keep hiding from me every time something serious comes up, Trace.” Elisha muttered. “You always do this, and I’m sick of it.”

“Yeah.” He turned his back on her and walked back down the hallway. The cat met him halfway, hissed hatefully and ran past him. He could hear Elisha plodding along behind him too, but he didn’t’ care. He needed out. He needed to down a Giant from Carl’s Jr., and maybe if he remembered…he would pick up something for Elisha too…

Wait. No. Baby. That baby needed to eat. Of course he would get her dinner. Of course, he would buy her whatever she wanted if he knew it was what the baby wanted too. “I’ll be home soon.” He turned to face her as he grabbed his keys, and opened the door. He kissed her lightly on the cheek, even thought it left him feeling even more empty inside…

He didn’t love this woman anymore. But he hadn’t minded pleasuring his dick inside of her the last time she’d allowed him to have sex with her, and so yes, it was his responsibility to take charge of what he’d done. Be the man. His father had always taught him that. Be the man or don’t love the woman. Right.

“You know, we’re going to need to sit down and talk about this,” Elisha whispered, not quite looking him in the eye.

He shrugged. “I know.”

She shook her head yet again, not hesitating to let out an annoyed groan this time as well. “So just stay…there’s food in the fridge. I can make that stupid roast.”

“I need to drive,” he countered quickly. “Christ, just let me off the leash for an hour or two girl.”

“Off the leash,” she snapped. “I just found out that I’m pregnant and you’re telling me to let you off the leash? Fuckin christ Juan, you’re such a prick.”

She was the only woman that he’d ever allowed to call him by his proper name. In the beginning she’d used it playfully, when they’d been rolling around in the sack together…swept up in their passion like two stupid kids. But now, she used it when she was angry with him. It was like a tool. Almost like, if she used it when she was degrading him, she was degrading his true self. But it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t have even started fighting if it hadn’t been for her drunken ass, kissing that nobody from Santa Fe a year ago, anyway. Actually, they would probably still be okay. Sure, she’d always be a bitch. He was sure of that. But at least she wouldn’t have kissed another guy.

It shouldn’t’ have mattered to him anymore. But yet, at times like this, it was all he could think about. “I need to drive.” He scowled, before stepping outside the door. He didn’t need to close it behind him, no. Because she’d made sure to slam it behind him forcefully. Damn, why didn’t she just change the locks too?

They were having a baby. He should have been filled with joy, happiness; like countless other fathers-to be were when they first found out. And…he was happy. Happy for the kid, and that the kid got to have a kick ass father like himself. But he wasn’t happy about who the mother was, and that he was going to have to deal with her for the rest of his life. He was saddled with her, because he was the man, and real men didn’t leave their women pregnant and alone. Not before the baby…and certainly not after.

His phone was ringing, and he thought twice about picking it up as he slid back into his car. He sunk low into the soft leather interior and sighed. The ringing stopped, and he was thankful for the few moments of silence that provided. But inevitably, it started ringing again. This time though, he found the strength inside of him to answer. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

At least it was Justin. “Can you meet me someplace,” he whispered.

“Course. When and where?”

It was what he loved about his best friend. It didn’t matter what he was doing right now. Hell, Justin could have been due to go on stage in five minutes, and Trace knew he would have cancelled to meet him someplace right now. Sometimes, he wondered how the hell he’d gotten so lucky. How the hell he’d wound up with such a great friend…a brother. “Now, the back of Carl’s Jr. Can you make it?”

“Yeah. And like dude, I really think I need to go switch the ring. Like, just before, we were sitting watching some stupid show about weddings and Cam saw this ring this girl had…”

Trace smiled a little. To most people, Justin’s rambling was the most irritating thing in the world. And he had to admit that he was even annoyed by it at times. But right now it was soothing him, as strange as that was. “Hold up,” he chuckled a little. “Tell me when I get there.”

Justin paused. “Oh,” he laughed heartily. “Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Cool.” Trace flipped his phone shut, and poked the button above his rearview again. The garage door lifted up, and he quickly backed the sleek black car out of its space. Once outside, he glanced up quickly, and he was sure he could see his girlfriend peering out the window. A guilty feeling yanked at him…telling him he wasn’t doing the right thing by running off right now. But he didn’t care.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t left him alone, weak and broken…crying, and lost, before.

*********************

“So do you know how much they’re gonna pay you?” Donna Sullivan popped another French fry into her mouth, sucking the catsup off of it first, before actually eating the food itself.

Jenna Kade shrugged her petite shoulders, and stabbed into her cheap salad with the fork. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I have the job for sure. I have to go back tomorrow for a second interview with that guy…Mr. Ayala.” She popped the forkful into her mouth, and chewed the salad forcefully. Normally, she hated salad. She liked something with a zing, and no…it wouldn’t’ have been so bad if she’d put some Thousand Island dressing on it. But she hadn’t. She was an avid dieter. Or well, at least this week she was. So it was oil and vinegar all the way tonight.

She’d seen the way he looked her up and down the previous afternoon. Not that she wasn’t used to that sort of thing. It came with the job title. Secretaries, for some unknown reason, were supposed to be appealing. She understood that though, and it wasn’t’ her place to argue because she needed a job…some kind of job, and she was good at secretary work. She’d never meant to look the way she did the other day at the interview. Normally, she was a well kept, professional looking woman. But that morning, god…Daniel had been crying because they were out of Corn Pops, and Christine couldn’t’ find her stupid sweater. She’d been rushing, as always. And to top things off, the outfit she’d specifically put aside for the interview that day was nowhere to be found. It was only then that she remembered not going to the dry cleaners to pick it up the day before.

Christ, she must have looked like a bag lady at the interview.

But Mr. Ayala (oh wait, call him Trace because he hated to sound professional), hadn’t seemed to take offense to her puke green cardigan and brown knee length skirt. All he really seemed interested in was her, what she could do for him, and how experienced she was in the field. She’d told him everything she could remember about the various jobs she’d listed on her resume. Of course, the first few were slightly talked up. Donna had suggested it, just because she had been a temp at the time and nobody wanted to keep her on the job for more than a month. She felt bad, like she was deceiving the guy …but he didn’t seem any the wiser. In fact, the only thing he seemed was impressed with her. She had to admit, she played it off well. The confident working woman, with no ties, no responsibilities…

But that was so far from the truth, it made her sick just thinking about it.

“Well don’t let them take advantage of you.” Donna pointed to her with her spoon, before using it to stir more sugar into her coffee. “You know how these businesses are. They see a woman with no college education, and immediately assume she’s an airhead who doesn’t know the value of a dollar.”

But Jenna did know the value of a dollar. Oh, how she did. So much that it hurt her…it gripped her by the shoulders every day, reminding her that she needed to pay that bill…she needed to get that food on the table. It was hard, and at just twenty three years old, she didn’t’ know how in the world she was still managing to pay a mortgage and support a six year old and a hormonal seventeen year old. It shouldn’t have been her problem…not at all. Cindy should have been the one struggling…not her. She was supposed to be in college, UCLA, majoring in business.

But instead she was stuck here, in a dingy suburban part of Los Angeles, managing to make ends meet with whatever job she could pull up from the bottom of the barrel. Or at least, she was managing to make ends meet until last month, when her bastard womanizer of a boss had fired her for no reason at all…except for the fact that she wouldn’t give him a blow job in the back of the storage room. Things had been tight as it was, on that pitiful salary. Now, with the only source of income being her monthly unemployment check, and the random handouts that Donna gave to her, times had never been worse. This job offer was a miracle, a land in your lap kind of miracle.

And those kind of miracles never happened to Jenna…until last week.

She’d dropped Christine off at cheerleading practice at six forty five, scrounged up some change from underneath the passenger seat, and treated Daniel to a happy meal at McDonalds. It was his favorite thing, and she’d been happy that she could at least give the kid that for his birthday. No, there was no party this year. No cake, no surprises. Just a plain cheeseburger, some fries and a little car. But Daniel didn’t protest.

He was such a good kid, and it made her heart ache even more because of this. Abandoned by their mother, Jenna was the only responsible figure he had in his life. And god, she tried to do the right thing by him. She tried to be involved…go to parents night at the school, and sign him up for boy scouts. But it was hard. When she had a job, she often found herself working past her schedule to make an extra something in her check. That left Christine to keep an eye on him. And of course, a teenage girl, a bunch of her girlfriends…and God knows who else, weren’t a good influence on a six year old. Especially such a quiet, reserved kid like Daniel.

She’d been thinking, hard, while Daniel made little car noises and wheeled the toy up and down the table. She’d been without work for almost two months, and she knew…she knew she was in deep trouble. The first foreclosure warning had been received just three days prior. It was a rude awakening, and she’d known that there weren’t any more options left. The unemployment was barely putting food on the table as it was, and she wasn’t about to pick Donna’s pocket any more. She’d wanted to cry right there. Sob, carry on and scream about why life was so fucking unfair to her. But she forced herself not to…for her brother’s sake.

A job was what she needed. But the temp agency hadn’t called in weeks. She didn’t understand, but she figured it was because nowadays most businesses were looking for experienced, well trained secretaries and assistants. Not ones like her…under educated and saddled down with too much responsibility. She knew she could have walked up to the manager of the McDonalds just then and applied for a job. Flipping burgers might have been fun, she’d tried to make herself believe. Deep down she knew the truth of course…but what other option was there? They were going to take their house. The one she’d grew up in…the one they’d been a family in. The only home Daniel had ever known.

She couldn’t let it happen.

Taking Daniel by his small hand, she’d started making her way up to the counter, her dignity about to fade away…possibly never to return. She was so focused on the manager standing behind the counter, she’d barely seen him in her path. It was only when she smacked right into him, causing him to spill his coke all over the front of his expensive looking jacket, that she realized how dazed she was.

“Oh my god,” she’d covered her mouth and looked up at him. He was young, surprisingly. Young and good looking. His eyes were a piercing crystal clear blue, supported by a firm jaw line, and soft, gentle, pink lips. He had a broad, muscular build, and she could tell that working out was probably one of his favorite past times. Giving him an even closer look…she cold have sworn she knew him from somewhere. Or maybe, she just wished she did. He was so handsome…like the type of guy that could whisk a girl off her feet, take her away from her pain and misery in the matter of a few minutes. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She’d jetted for a napkin, dragging Daniel along with her. He was laughing too, and Jenna had felt her face turn bright, fiery red before she turned back to face the handsome man.

“Look, it’s cool,” he’d grunted, taking a few napkins from her. He shook his head a little, and put his cup down on the counter beside him. “Don’t worry…I have more clothes at home.” He smiled a little bit, but it faded as he looked down at the mess again.

“You got soder on you mister.” Daniel had smiled his toothless smile at him, and stared up at him with his wide, chocolate brown eyes.

She’d held her breath. She’d figured that was it. She was going to get a huge cleaning bill for his jacket. One she couldn’t pay. Just like the rest of her bills. She waited…listened…

And then he laughed.

“Well look at that,” he’d smiled down at her brother and patted his head. “I do don’t I? What’s your name buddy?”

Daniel had looked up at her for approval almost immediately, as he tended to do with every stranger he encounter. He was cautious, weary for his age…but Jenna knew why. His mother had left him when he was just two years old, and she knew he remembered. He’d cried for weeks. “It’s okay,” she’d whispered.

“My name is Daniel Kade,” he’d said proudly. “What’s your name?”

He’d laughed again. Jenna could tell he was the type that took to children, and started to wonder if he had any of his own. She started to wonder a lot of things. Who he was…what he did. If he was single…

“Justin,” he’d glanced at her cautiously before smiling at Daniel again. He’d extended his hand to her brother and shook it proudly.

“Is there…” Jenna had spoke up wearily. “Is there something I can do? God, I’m not usually so clumsy. I guess my mind was in another place.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” he’d smiled at her. It was a professional, business like smile. He’d pulled the jacket off of himself, revealing his tan polo t-shirt underneath “Shit happens, you know?”

She’d been so relieved, she nearly fell to her knees and kissed his feet. But of course, she managed to keep her composure. She didn’t’ want to make herself look like any more of a freak in front of such a handsome guy. So she’d just nodded, and forced a smile. “Okay.”

“I’m six today!” Daniel had blurted out proudly, and Jenna hadn’t been able to hold in her giggle.

Justin had smiled at him again. “Are you? Wow that’s totally cool. You havin a party today?”

Immediately, the panic had taken over her again. No, there was no party. They couldn’t’ afford a party. Hell, she couldn’t even afford a fifteen dollar cake and candles. But before she could pull her brother away, and save herself and their family from complete humiliation; Daniel blurted out:

“No, they wont give Jenna any money for it.”

“Oh.” It was a whisper, and then he’d looked at her again. She’d known what his thoughts were. Poor kid. Poor girl. Irresponsible girl.

“We’d better go,” she’d said quickly, not wanting him to get any more details. “Sorry about your jacket, but I swear…if I see you again I’ll make it up to you.” She’d taken Daniel firmly by the hand, and began to walk away from Justin. Away from Justin…and the possibility of a job at fucking McDonalds. But it didn’t matter. She’d been sure she would go apply at Burger King the next day.

“Wait.” He’d caught up to her within seconds. “You out of work or something?”

She didn‘t stop walking, and tried to pretend like his comment hadn‘t affected her. After all, it wasn’t his place to know about their life, their problems. She didn’t care how handsome he was, or how charming. “I’m fine,” she’d stated. “I can handle it.”

“Because I might be able to get you in with my company,” he persisted. “We‘ve been looking for somebody to fill the position for weeks.”

Her hand had landed on the door handle, and she’d been ready to simply pull it open and drag herself back into her miserable reality. But something…something had pulled at her. Begged her to reconsider and give Justin a chance to explain himself to her. She’d sighed. She supposed it was time to start trusting people again…give them a chance to explain themselves before she made her mind up about them. After all, it had been four years, and not everybody in the world was like Cindy. Not everybody was out to abandon her and leave her helpless and alone. So she’d turned to face him. “What do you mean?” she’d whispered. “What company?”

He’d smiled smugly. “Well, my partner and I just started up a clothing company with a friend of ours. We need a secretary. How good are you at typing and shit?”

Typing and shit? She’d wanted to laugh in his face. At over three hundred words a minute, there wasn’t a dead line she hadn’t been able to reach for her former employer. And although she wasn’t recognized for her skill, she was still proud of it. “Secretary work is what I do,” she’d said, wanting to slap herself for sounding a little too eager.

“Really.” Justin seemed impressed. “Well…” He’d dug into his pocket and pulled out a his wallet. Fishing a business card out of it a moment later, he’d smiled and handed to her. “That’s my partner. Give him a call tomorrow so he can add you to the interview list.”

Trace Ayala, organizer/coordinator. She’d given him a stupid look after scanning the address and phone number below his name. “Is that really his name?”

But Justin had only laughed out loud. “Girl, I like you already.”

And the rest was history.

“Nobody is going to take advantage of me,” she told Donna. She pushed her half eaten salad to the side and rested her head against her fist. “They seem like genuine people, the guys,” she nodded. “And I need a job like this. I can’t work retail or anything like that, because Daniel needs me at night with his homework and everything. You know that Donna.”

“I know,” she whispered. Sighing, she adjusted her thin glasses and leaned forward. “But just remember what your up against.”

“Male pigs,” she grunted. “I know, I know.”

“How old is this Mr. Ayala guy?” she asked, skeptically. “Is he old and decrepit like your last boss?”

“God no,” she said with relief. “He’s young…I guess. He looked about the same age as me.”

“Did he stare at your boobs?”

“Donna!” she exclaimed.

Donna threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Well I’m only asking the question to protect you Jenn.”

Now that she thought about it, yes, Trace had looked at her boobs. But it was an innocent glance, and nothing more. And eyeing the glittering diamond ring on his right hand that day, she was convinced he was happily married already. Not that she would have been interested anyway. She didn’t have time for men, and besides, she went for the pretty types anyway. Like that Justin guy. Though, looks shouldn’t have mattered to her…really, putting looks first was shallow and discriminatory.

But she figured she’d gotten this trait from Cindy.

“Well he didn’t look at my boobs,” she lied. “It was strictly, a professional matter…and he seemed to think I have a lot of potential. I’ve basically landed this job, Donna. You should be proud of me. Now maybe you won’t have to keep my case in your file drawer anymore.”

She sighed. “If it was up to me I would have put it through the shredder awhile ago. But you know I can’t, Jenna.”

Donna was probably the best friend she’d had her entire life. When Cindy ran off with her cocaine addicted boyfriend, a social worker was made to step in and evaluate the situation. Jenna had been young, nineteen, but according to state law she was old enough to raise Daniel and Christine on her own. Donna had started coming by the house on a weekly basis, but instead of complaining about how the dishes weren’t always washed, and how sometimes…Christine left her curling iron on while Daniel was running around the house, she seemed to sympathize with her. They became friends quickly, and Donna had been there for her through some of her roughest times over the past four years. The current situation being one of them.

They’d had a few scares. Whenever Jenna was laid off for too long, the board would step in and want to place Daniel in foster care. Donna worked hard though. More than hard. She worked her ass off to keep Daniel home where he belonged. But Jenna knew this time, was probably the last straw. If she couldn’t keep this job, she was sure Donna would be forced to report it…and take Daniel away.

She didn’t want to think about what that would do to him.

“I know,” she finally whispered.

“But you’re going to get the job,” Donna decided. “And you’re going to keep it, and you’re going to make good money. Or else I’m going to go down there and beat Mr. Ayala’s ass myself.”

Jenna raised an eyebrow. Now, that was something she never thought would have come out of Donna’s mouth. “Maybe you shouldn’t be working for child protective services,” she chuckled.

“Yeah,” she yawned. “Maybe I’ll quit this business and live out my dream of being a topless dancer.”

They both laughed.

Work Sucks