One black, one red with checks. His socks didn’t match, and he really hated that. But, if he continued to dig through his drawers in search of the matching black dress sock he was so desperate to find; he would miss the interview all together. Sure, Justin wouldn’t’ really be mad, but he knew Danny would be. Justin was useless to Danny as it was, simply going along with everything the guy said. Most of the time, Trace knew Danny didn’t mind that either. But he did mind when it came to employing people that were going to be working one on one with the three of them. As long as she looks good… Justin’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, and he smiled. Right, as long as she looked good Justin couldn’t have gave a shit.

“Babe.” He gazed at her motionless figured through the mirror. “Babe I can’t find my other black sock. And really, I should look good today. I got that interview and then we gotta go to lunch with some people from Kitson.”

“Hmm.” Elisha grunted and shifted slightly, before opening her eyes a crack. “Check the dryer.” She rolled back over.

“I checked,” he whispered.

“I dunno,” she muttered. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He sighed. “Great. You do that.” He slammed the drawer closed, and stormed out of the bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him, flinching as the sound echoed down the hallway. “Shit,” he muttered. “It’s just a sock, Trace.”

They’d fought the day before. What the fight was about didn’t really matter. And in fact, he couldn’t even remember right now, at this hour of the morning. Part of him wanted to make it up to her. Part of him wanted to go back in that bedroom, and tell her that he hated fighting with her more than anything in the world. Just like he’d done countless time before, after countless amounts of fights.

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe… part of him did still love her.

He turned around, and stood face to face with the door he’d just slammed. He couldn’t make himself go back inside. Hell. His girl was pregnant and he couldn’t make himself go back inside the bedroom to comfort her. What was he doing? He wasn’t being a man about this. He was running away, getting into arguments over…damn it, what the hell was it? He forced himself to open the door then, just slightly. Elisha was still in bed, her back to him. Maybe he could go over there…kiss her neck and ask her what the hell was happening with them. Maybe he could have passionate sex with her this morning…

Maybe he would call Justin and tell him he wouldn’t be able to make it.

“Did you find your fucking sock,” came her tired voice.

He frowned, the image of her naked in his arms immediately disappearing from his mind. “No,” he grunted.

“Thanks for slamming the door,” she snapped.

He sighed and scratched his head. “Thanks for tell me to go to hell right before bed.”

“What else is new?” She didn’t turn over to face him.

He drummed his fingers impatiently on the doorframe. “What time is your appointment.”

This time she shifted. A minute later she was staring at him, tired…but still able to express her annoyance. “Three thirty. Are you coming?”

He was offended. “What kind of question is that?”

“I figured you had work,” she muttered, and let out a small yawn.

“I do.” He shook his head. “But I can leave work for this.”

“Oh.” She flashed him tired smirk. “Lord, it’s a miracle. Something really can make him pay attention to me.”

God he just wanted to get out of the house. What had he been thinking? Sex, skipping work to stay in bed with her? Yeah right. Those days had long since come and gone. Now there was just emptiness…uncaring, fighting, degrading each other. It was ridiculous for two people to live this way, yet he wouldn’t go against his morals. Blame the kid? No. It wasn’t the kids fault.

He stepped into the room, and stood before the mirror again. He rubbed his hair a little bit, making its short spikes slightly ruffled. The ‘slept in’ look. He loved it. “I’ll be here to get you,” he promised, turning to face her. “But you should be ready, because I might cut it close.”

She raised and lowered her eyebrows. “I’d probably be better off just meeting you there.”

“You wanna do that?”

“I was being sarcastic, Juan.”

Silent, he shuffled over to the bed, and sat down beside her. “We fight in the mornings. We fight at night…” he sighed. “What the hell Elisha. What do you want to do? I can’t just…make myself perfect for you. I don’t know what you want, first of all. You used to be fine with me…for me you know?”

She shrugged. “People grow apart.”

“That’s a piss poor explanation for your attitude lately,” he grunted. “We have a kid to think about now.”

“I’d leave if it wasn’t for the kid.” She pointed to her stomach. “You’d be happy with that. Hell, I can still leave. That’s even better. No kids, no girlfriend… no ties. You can live it up with Justin finally…”

He interrupted her. “You think I want to abandon the kid? My kid.”

She smiled. It was a vengeful smile. A smile that was only brought out when she was extremely angry at him, or really drunk. And he knew she couldn’t have been drunk. “You sure it’s yours?”

He glared at her. “Don’t fuckin start.”

“Well it was you that told me I was a cheating whore. Am I right?”

He had. But they’d been fighting, and he was out of his mind when they fought most of the time. A bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, he’d been screaming at her, and he’d been drinking at the same time. “I was…”

“You were drunk,” she snapped. “Like you always are.”

He hated when she pointed it out. He tried. He tried to keep it strictly at the club or at the party. But most of the time, his good friend Jack followed him home. Justin didn’t’ see it so much as Elisha did. Not that he was a sloppy drunk. Just a hot tempered one. He liked to yell when he was drunk. It made him feel good, like he had some kind of control over his situation for the moment. Elisha listened to him when he was drunk. Standing against the wall wide eyed, while he screamed about all the things that she made him feel inside, yes. But she still listened.

Sometimes he hated himself.

“Sorry.” He reached out and ran his hand down her cheek. She let him, and god, he had no idea why. “I‘m sorry.” He leaned in and tried to kiss her, and he managed to touch her lips with his before she pushed him back.

“Go to work,” she told him, softly. “Okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll be here later,” he promised. “The latest, three o’clock.”

She pulled the comforter closer to her body, and closed her eyes again. “You better be, Trace.”

And he knew it wasn’t a warning. It was a message. Get with the program, Juan. He could practically hear the words come out of her mouth. Right. He would get with the program. He would go to work, come back, go to the doctor and get the official word. After that? After today? Well…he’d be the man. He’d be here for her, he’d take care of her. And he’d try to love her…he really would…

Somehow.

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

This couldn’t be happening.

She tried again.

Letting out a defeated groan, she yanked her key out of the ignition and sat back. Ten miles from work, and stranded on the parkway. This couldn’t possibly be happening today. No, not today when she had to prove herself to her would be employers. She wished like hell she’d been able to pay her last cell phone bill. Then, at least she would have been able to call ahead and tell them she was going to be quite late. But she had no phone. She had no money for one, and now she was in for it. She was going to miss this interview, sit here all day instead…crying about how unfair life really was. Then somehow, she’d get home…and a few days later another bill would come. No, she wouldn’t be able to pay that one either. Next would come the house…then Danny…

Then she’d end up in an asylum.

“Damn it.” She pounded her fist against the steering wheel and threw open the Volkswagen’s door. She watched the traffic fly by her at crazy speeds for a few moments, before even attempting to make her way to the hood of the car. Safely there, she threw it open and looked inside. She didn’t know why she was bothering though. It wasn’t’ like she knew anything about cars, or parts or whatever else. She only thought that maybe, she would see some sort of light flashing or a piece of metal sticking up that she could shove back into place. Hell, she would do anything to get the damn car started.

Cars whizzed by, some beeping, some practically side swiping her. “God, can’t anybody help a girl in distress these days?” she muttered, still staring down into the engine. She started to let her mind wander again. She thought about Christine. Had she gone to school, or was she skipping again? When she got home tonight, would there be another message regarding Christine’s truancy, and if there was…would she be able to take proper action? Or would she simply let it go, like every other time her sister skipped school?

She didn’t mean to be such a lousy mentor to her sister. She tried, she really did. She helped her with her college applications, and tried to help her with her homework when she could. The problem was, when she was working, she hardly had time for Daniel, let alone Christine. And Christine was at the age now where she could provide and take care of herself. Yes, she was still young. But Jenna had taken on the responsibility as breadwinner when she was only nineteen. Right. She knew what it was like to have your youth snatched away from you…

And it was probably the reason her sister acted out as often as she did.

A car horn blared loudly from behind her, and she let out a shriek as she turned around. The black Mercedes was roaring dangerously close to where she stood, and in the matter of thirty seconds she thought of everything that was going to have to take place if she got hurt. Daniel being the most important thing. Donna…she was going to have to get Donna to take care of him, or else the state would get their greedy little hands on him and throw him in a home. And Christine. Somebody had to make sure she went to school and stopped running off with all of those pig headed older guys she usually went for…

But then the car stopped, just a few feet away from her. She let out a long sigh, letting the relief sink in for a few moments before the anger started to take over. God. What the hell? Couldn’t anybody drive anymore?

The drivers side door opened, and before the person behind the wheel could actually get out, she started to lose it. “What the hell are you thinking about!,” she yelled. “You could have killed---”

“Sorry,” Mr. Ayala’s head popped out of the car, and he flashed her an embarrassed smirk. “I just could have sworn it was you and I was like, oh shit…she’d gonna be late for her own damn interview.”

She wanted to drop dead. “Oh…” She put a hand to her face, and could feel how red it was. “Um…Mr. Ayala, I really didn’t…”

He laughed heartily and slid out of his sleek convertible. “Trace…it’s Trace.” He closed the door gently behind him, before approaching her wreck of a 87 Volkswagen. God, it embarrassed her. His car had to be worth at least sixty or seventy thousand dollars. He was rich, successful. And here her broke ass was going to work for him. Did he know that? Had Justin told him just how desperate she was for a job? Had Trace invited her for a second interview out of sympathy? It shouldn’t have mattered to her, but it did. Jenna hated being a charity case of any kind.

“So, the old girls’ givin’ you trouble, eh?” He walked right up to the hood, expensive suit, tie and all, and leaned in. “Damn girl,” he laughed. “This car’s had it.”

She let out an embarrassed whimper. “Would you believe that it’s just a loner?”

He looked at her, and let out a loud burst of laughter. She was a little surprised, as he’d seemed so reserved the previous afternoon. But then again…that was business, and this was leisure time. Looking at him now, she realized he must have been just as care free as his partner was, and suddenly, she didn’t fear him quite so much.

“Right,” he said, in-between fits of laughter. “Your Pinto’s in the shop then?”

She rolled her eyes. “A Pinto would be a blessing.” She kicked the car’s rusty bumper. “This car is about to take it’s last breath right here, I believe.”

He studied the car’s engine for a few moments. “Maybe not,” he decided. “I bet I could get ‘er up and running this morning.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “Right, in your suit and tie, you’re going to stand here and fix my car.”

He simply shrugged, and removed his tan blazer. “I’m a country bumpkin,” he chuckled, walking back to his car to throw his blazer on the seat. He un tucked his expensive looking dress shirt, and took his tie off. “I’m always prepared for the wagon to lose a wheel,” he drawled.

She giggled slightly, but she had to admit…she was still nervous. This man might as well have been her boss already, and now he was about to stick his hands all over her dirty car engine? It was weird. Too weird. She’d never worked for anybody like this. Anybody that cared. “You don’t have to, really,” she told him, as he started to check the car’s oil. “You’re going to ruin your suit, Mr…Trace.”

“Girl, you got like no oil in your tank,” he said, not hearing her comment. He shoved the oil stick back into its proper place, and let out a worried sigh. “What are you thinking about driving around like that? You could get hurt something awful.”

She’d known she needed to put oil in the car a week ago, but of course, she couldn’t afford anything like that. So she drove the car minimally…only taking it out when she had to bring Daniel or Christine to school. She’d wanted to take the bus to work too, but it turned out that the William Rast offices and the factory itself were in two separate places. And the office was up in Hollywood someplace…nowhere near a bus stop. “I don’t know,” she said quickly. “I’m bad with cars.”

He chuckled a little. “It doesn’t take a genius to know when you need oil. You know that little red light on the dash board? Yeah, when that lights, you need oil girl.” He laughed harder, and shut the hood of her car. “I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing wrong though Well…aside from the fact that your car is from the stone age.”

She felt ridiculous. “Oh. Well, thanks.”

“I got some oil in my trunk,” he nodded. “But I don’t know if it’s gonna help.” He stared back at his fabulous looking car. “My car takes special shit.”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll just call a tow truck,” she lied, forcing a reassuring tone.

He eyed her suspiciously. “You got money for that?”

Her eyes widened a little. God, he didn’t’ need to know her problems. He didn’t need to know that, if he left her here she would be walking back to her house. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Credit card.”

“Oh.” He flashed her a knowing smile, and pulled out his cell phone. “Well here, why don’t you call them?”

This guy was far from stupid, and she knew that now. Justin had probably told him all about the stupid girl who’d spilled coke on him. Told him that she looked like a poor piece of trash, but to give her the same chance as anybody else. But she didn’t‘ want to do that. She didn’t‘ want to be a charity case to a couple of rich boys. She wanted to work because she was good at what she did…because she had the skill. Yes, she knew this job meant life or death. But her pride came before all of that., and it was probably the reason she was always out of a job. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

Trace shook his head in confusion. “I don’t get it,” he laughed. “You just said…”

“I know what I said,” she muttered. “Look, just go okay?” She walked around to her driver’s side door again, and yanked it open. “Give somebody else the job.”

“Whoa…whoa, hold on,” he laughed a little and grabbed her drivers side door before she could shut it. “What’s the problem? I’m just tryin to get you to work, so you can get this job for yourself. You don’t have to be all embarrassed that you don’t have six hundred bucks for a tow. Most people don’t.”

Besides people like you. She sighed. “Look, I’m…glad you’re so concerned.” She looked down at her dashboard, and wiped some dirt out of a crevice. “But, what happens if I get this job, and my car breaks down again? You need somebody reliable.” She shook her head sadly. “And obviously that’s not going to be me.” She shifted the rest of her body into the car, and tried to close the door. When he wouldn’t let go though, she frowned. “Come on,” she groaned.

“Look, I probably shouldn’t’ be talking about work with you,” he told her, leaning down to poke his head in the door. “It’s probably unprofessional and shit, and lord knows I’ve learned from the best about how to handle myself with employees. But you know, you impressed me the other day. And me personally, I mean, you already got the job in my eyes, girl. You just have to impress the rest of them, and that ain’t that hard.”

“But the car,” she laughed a little. “This is about my transportation to and from work. Not about how good I am at the job.”

He sighed. “If you get the job, I’ll take care of it,” he reassured her. “Just give yourself a chance. I mean damn, I know it’s hard being a single mom…” he trailed off. “I mean uh…“

Jenna quickly realized that he’d known all along about Daniel and McDonalds and the spilled coke. It was true. She was a charity case in his eyes. She felt the anger begin to build up inside of her. “He’s not my son,” she grunted, pulling on the door. This time though, he let it go, and she was able to get it closed. She turned the key harshly in the ignition, willing it to start…and with what was probably the first piece of good luck she’d receive this year, it actually did.

“Well shit,” Trace laughed. “I guess it pays to get you pissed off.”

She shot him a sarcastic smile. “Thanks for the opportunity.”

“So what? You’re just gonna skip it?” he grunted. “Hell, you can’t. I…I need somebody like you,” he confessed. “You’re the most experienced, most mature person that I interviewed for this job. I mean, this company means a lot to me…and I need somebody smart and confident working along side us.” He sighed, and stared directly into her eyes. “Just please,” he whimpered pathetically. “Come.”

He seemed to really want her to have this job. And Jenna started to think that maybe…he was being honest. Maybe he had been impressed with her, and maybe yes, she had the skill to do a great job for him. She wasn’t just some charity case after all. She smiled a little. “Well I mean, if it means that much to you,” she shrugged. “But I can’t guarantee my car is going to start up again once I park it.”

He laughed a little. “I’m reliable,” he winked. “You wont be stranded.”

She didn’t want to trust him. No, not at all. But something inside of her told her it was okay. Just like something inside of her had told her to stop, turn, and talk to Justin the day he’d offer her this job. She figured she had reached the bottom of the pit finally, and this opportunity was the only thing that was going to save her from losing everything she had. For once, she had to do it. She had to trust somebody, a complete stranger…to help her. But at least his smile, and his charm didn’t’ seem put on. It seemed genuine, like Justin’s had.

Yes, she thought. He can be trusted.

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

It was three fifteen, and Trace was in the middle of a conference call with Danny, Justin, and the president of Bloomingdales. He knew he had to go, he had to get home and get Elisha to her doctor’s appointment. He knew that if he failed, it wouldn’t only put him in a bad position…but it would upset Elisha a lot too. And if Elisha got upset, it could hurt the baby. He knew that. His mother had miscarried when he was twelve years old, and he saw what it did to her. Hell, it nearly broke her. And he couldn’t let that happen to Elisha. Problems or not she was still his girl…his fiancé. And it was his duty to be there for her at a time like this.

“November third,” Justin nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good day, because TRL is best to do in the middle of the week.”

“This isn’t about TRL.” Danny rolled his eyes, and fiddled with the paperwork in front of him. “Bill, don’t mind Justin please.”

The deep voice laughed through the speaker. “No no, it’s great. That date is great. We’ll set it up. Trace, do you have an inventory supply plan for us?”

He had Kitson’s ready, because it was the only one he’d known for sure he needed today. To be honest, he had a hunch that he might be asked for the Bloomingdale’s one today as well, but he simply hadn’t had the time to complete it with everything else going on in his life. But now Bill Carlson wanted it, and that pissed Trace off. These people just expected him to pull this shit out of thin air sometimes, and he was only one person. Sure, he knew he could have asked Justin for help, but he also knew that Justin wouldn’t have known what the hell to do. Paper work wasn’t his best friends thing, and Trace understood that, accepted it. But with everything else going on at the moment…he was starting to fall behind, and he didn’t know how much longer he could do this much work on his own. “It’s not ready,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think I’d need to have it today.”

“Well, we’re really going to need that to get the ball rolling here,” Bill muttered. “Do you think I could have something by say…Monday morning?”

He wanted to cry just then. Yes, he knew that this clothing line was a blessing, and yes, he knew the responsibilities that went along with it. But, he hadn’t been expecting Elisha to get pregnant right in the middle of the planning process. And he knew he couldn’t work late tonight, tomorrow, or the next day. He needed to dedicate that time to Elisha. They had to sit down and seriously talk out their options. Hell, he was sure that Elisha had told her mother and father about the baby by now too. So now, he was really going to have to pull his Mr. Charm act off. It wasn’t that her parents didn’t like him. They did…well, they tolerated him anyway. Elisha was their only child, their little baby…and they didn’t see him being good enough for her, marriage wise. He guessed it was because of his life style. He traveled a lot, worked a lot of hours and no…he wasn’t an Abercrombie model like Justin was either. They wanted her to be with somebody powerful. Somebody with influence. But hey…he had influence…

If you were nice to him, he could definitely get you backstage at a Justin show.

Good lord.

“I’ll do my best,” he tried to sound pleasant, but he couldn’t pull it off. He glanced at Danny and Justin quickly. Justin of course, didn’t seem phased. He was used to dealing with cock suckers like this on a daily basis. But Danny…Danny looked like he was ready to strangle him. Trace knew why. He’d promised to have everything prepared by today. And he would have completed the work…if it wasn’t for his current dilemma.

“Well you better,” Bill snapped. “Because Bloomingdale’s has many other clients willing to take your spot. Clients that are prepared, Mr. Ayala.”

“Yes sir.” He shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m right on it.”

“Bill I want to assure you,” Danny stated, sending Trace an angry glare. “We will deliver exactly what you need, and I know Justin and I are very sorry for any trouble or inconvenience this may have caused you.”

This was bullshit. He was sorry that the paperwork wasn’t ready? Hell, Justin was sorry? First of all, Justin did shit when it came to the technical stuff, and Danny hadn’t laid a finger on the inventory prep work since the project began. It all had been designated to him. Being the workaholic that he was, he’d gotten most of the work done already. It was just a few other things…like the Bloomingdale‘s guides, that had to be completed. He wanted to punch Danny in the face for selling him out, but he knew Justin wouldn’t go for it. Justin liked Danny. Liked him a lot, and thought he could do a lot for ‘his career’. Yeah…it was always about Justin’s fucking career.

The call ended on a bitter note, and Trace found himself rushing out of the conference room almost right away, his mind only focused on getting back home. After all, it was well past three thirty now and Trace knew no matter what he did, he was going to be in trouble. But…he knew the earlier he arrived to pick up Elisha, the more understanding she would be. He would have raced right out the door and out to his car too, if he didn’t over hear Danny in the background, degrading him to Justin.

“Trace isn’t putting enough time in,” Danny muttered. “It’s starting to effect the business.”

He skidded to a stop. That had done it. He’d dealt with enough shit for one day…one week…one month…one year. He wasn’t about to be talked down, degraded, by one more person.

“You know what?” Trace whirled around, and sent Danny an angry look. “I am putting enough time in. I’m putting more than enough fuckin time in. Why don‘t you help me with the guides Danny? Huh?,” he stepped closer, and stuck his face in front of Danny‘s. “What do you do all day besides mess around with your fuckin Photoshop and talk on the phone?”

“Whoa.” Justin laughed lightly and stepped in between them, gently pulling Trace to the side. “Guys, calm down. Everything is fine okay? Danny…Trace is doing everything according to plan, and Bill will get his damn paperwork. And Trace, you gotta understand that Danny…”

Trace pulled away from him. “I don’t need you to play fucking mediator,” he grunted, cutting Justin‘s speech short. He hated himself for getting an attitude with Justin. He didn’t deserve it. He was the one that was making William Rast a working reality, and Trace knew that without Justin…without his name backing the line, nobody would care about it. These big retailers wouldn’t have wanted to carry it in their stores. Trace knew he should have been thanking him, praising him…not yelling at him. And not just thanking him for the clothing line either. Justin genuinely cared about his situation with Elisha and the baby too…and he wanted to help. Justin was a great guy, a great friend…he’d known him his entire damn life. There was no reason for to get into a stupid argument with him. It was the last thing either of them needed today.

“Get the work done, Trace,” Danny snapped, and brushed past the two of them. “Or else the investment will be shot to hell.” He didn’t say anything else. He only stormed back to his office, and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Shit.” Trace muttered. He looked back at Justin, who had been silent for several minutes now; probably pissed at him for getting so bent out of shape. “Look…I’m sorry man,” he said quietly. “I just…”

“You’re stressed out,” Justin grumbled. “But man, you can’t just come to work like this and get pissy at me for shit that’s out of my control. I mean, you know the deadlines…you talk to Danny about all this shit. I don’t. I put the money up for this man, I put my name on the line…for you. The least you can do is pull your head out of your ass and get the shit done on time.”

It was always about money in this business, and Trace knew Justin had the right to be angry. He’d invested a lot of money in this project. Over two million dollars. And Trace knew if things didn’t go according to plan, that money would be gone. Not that Justin would be losing a lot…there was a lot more where that came from. Trace knew it was more of an image thing. The headlines would read “Timberlake Clothing Line Shrinks.”, or something retarded like that. Justin was right….he did have an image to protect, a big one. And it was Trace’s job to make sure things ran smoothly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just…”

“I know,” Justin shook his head sadly, and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Look, that was out of line okay? I know you’re worried about this baby and your girl and everything. I shouldn’t be angry…I just, man, you know this biz makes me crazy.”

Trace laughed. “It makes us both crazy.”

“You know,” Justin smiled, a thoughtful expression taking the place of his annoyed one. “You should make Jenna do this for you.”

They’d had a great interview, once Jenna had finally managed to get her car parked and get inside the office. She’d been as calm and professional as she was at her first interview. Justin of course, had liked her from the start, since he’d been the one to snag her for a job interview in the first place. It had taken Danny a few minutes to warm up to her, of course. But that was the standard for his stubborn ass when it came to hiring new employees. He’d asked her a ton of questions, technical ones. And Trace was amazed that she managed to answer them with so much confidence. Sure, some of her answers might have been flubbed a little, but Danny was too much of a naïve bastard to notice that. In the end, they’d all shaken hands and agreed that she was the girl for the job.

Trace was proud of her. Even…impressed with her. Impressed with something other than her eyes, and he felt like such a sexist pig for looking at her the way he had that first day. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged. “I just…you know, I don’t want to give her too much shit to do her first week.”

“Man, are you that sexually deprived?” Justin laughed. “It’s what we’re paying her for.”

Trace felt himself blush slightly. “Shut up, reject. I’m just trying to be a good boss. And hell, by the looks of things, and…from what you told me about her, it doesn’t seem like she’s ever had one.”

Justin had told him the whole story. How he’d been craving McDonalds so bad that he went by himself, without Tiny, because Tiny had been on the other side of town in a meeting. How he’d just missed the paparazzi brigade that usually paraded around that side of Sunset Boulevard. And how everything seemed to be going exactly his way, until some girl bumped into him and made him spill Coke all over the William Rast prototype he’d been testing out.

Some girl that happened to be Jenna Kade.

Trace thought it was a cute story, the kind of story that made him long to do right by her. She didn’t have a lot of money, he knew that. And he knew that she had a kid…or something. Even though she’d told him that the kid wasn’t hers. Maybe she was lying? Hell, he wasn’t going to pry. This was a business relationship. And even though she was cute, and while he would have loved to meet her kid to see what it took to be a parent, he knew he couldn’t. He was engaged, having a baby of his own…and he should have been happy with that.

But of course he wasn’t.

“Look, I think you should,” Justin nodded. “Even, you know, she doesn’t have to do the whole guide for Bill. You could split it or something. You know, you’ve been dying to get somebody to help you with shit, and now you have her and it’s like…you feel bad making her work.” He shrugged and shook his head. “Call me crazy, but I don’t get it.”

“Fine!” He raised his hands up in the air. “So I’ll make her work…give her too much damn work, and then she’ll quit on us.”

Justin laughed out loud. “You don’t know this girl. She needs this job like…god, I don’t even know. I mean, she couldn’t even give her kid a birthday party. That’s how broke she is. I bet she’ll do anything you ask her to do, as long as you pay her.”

He felt bad, but deep inside, he knew he had a golden opportunity. Justin was right. He could make this girl work. Work her ass off, doing shit that he simply didn’t have the time to do…or simply didn’t want to do. And if she was doing all of that for him, it meant more time for himself…his personal life. He could sit down and talk to Elisha. They could make plans, maybe even…take a little weekend trip to try and work out their relationship problems.

“I see that look in your eyes,” Justin smiled. “You know you can handle shit now, don’t you man?”

Trace chuckled nervously. “I think you might have something there.”

Another Step Into Insanity