Oreos for Breakfast: Chapter 34

Oreos For Breakfast: Chapter 34
By the Paperbag Princess and Pumpkin Coach

I could feel someone behind me and I moved to the side a little so they could read the description on the wall, too. I'd been in this small annex of the museum for a long time now, hadn't I? It'd been a while since I'd had an entire afternoon to myself with no meetings or rehearsals or shows to get to. We'd been up late last night recording, so Jeremy gave us the day off.

It annoyed me that Jeremy got to make that decision, but I was so happy to have a day off, I didn't care. I'd yell at him about how he treated us like a backing band later.

Probably in the middle of an argument about how I was acting like a diva princess.

It was nice to have my band back to normal.

I snickered to myself, and the man behind me spoke.

"Never had someone give that reaction before."

His voice was deep and I glanced back at him, ready to apologize, when I caught the smile on his face. Was he flirting or just joking? Had it been so long that I couldn't tell the difference?

"Sorry, you were trying to read…"

He shook his head, motioning to the name at the bottom at the description: Gibson and Lawson. "That's my firm. I proofread the placard about a million times before the exhibit went up. Believe me, I know what it says. I'm Benjamin… umm… Ben."

"Ben," I smiled. That was a nice name. Cute. Good name. And best of all, he must be a lawyer or something. This Ben standing before me in a dark business suit and holding an umbrella was most definitely not a rock star. "It's a fascinating exhibit."

"I should think so, you've been in here for a while."

"Is it your job to time the audience? Make sure that people aren't coming in just to look at the naughty bits?" I joked and he cracked a lopsided smile, glancing around at the stark black and white photographs surrounding us.

"It's usually closeted teenagers who just come in to see the 'naughty bits,' as you say."

Damn, was he gay? How did I not get that before?

"My best friend was one of those closeted teenagers," I said. "We used to go to the library and sneak looks at the Mapplethorpe books. It wasn't until we were in college that we were able to really understand the artistic merit of his work."

"Don't let the religious right hear you say that. Shoots our case to hell."

"Ah, they have better things to worry about now. Naughty sex tapes leaking all over the internet."

"So to speak."

I had to laugh at his corny joke and before I knew it he was buying me a cup of coffee in the museum cafe as we discussed how tame Mapplethorpe's photographs probably were to today's teenagers. Would the religious right really care enough to protest a few gay men photographed without their clothes when they had openly gay men and women demanding the right to be married and adopt children?

As Ben got up to refill my coffee for the third time, I glanced down at my phone. Shit. Missed six calls. Had to be something important. I checked the numbers. Justin. Justin. Justin. Justin. I tried not to laugh. Justin usually called me around one in the morning when he was alone and lonely. Where was he today? It's not like I kept his schedule in my head. The last two were from James.

I glanced over and Ben was watching me and I smiled, motioning to my phone. Jeremy hadn't called, so it wasn't a band thing. But James might be having a JC crisis.

"What's up?" I asked as I watched Ben adding just the right amount of cream to my coffee. Two cups and he'd already been trained.

I sure hope he didn't end up really being gay. But a 30-something lawyer in New York who wasn't wearing a ring? Odds were I was going home alone tonight. Well, not that I wanted to just pick someone up… but could I at least hope for a phone number?

"He's here!"

"Who? JC? Where are you?"

Was he trapped in his apartment while JC knocked on the door?

That was pretty romantic. No, James would cave to that one.

"I'm at your place. You have my notebook."

Did I? Shit, James hadn't been at my place since we'd gotten off the tour. I knew it had too many memories of JC for him, but I liked hanging out at my place better than James'. My place at least had a decent heating system!

First time James had been at my place in weeks and this happens?

"I can't do this, Rachel. He keeps calling from next door and… I can't leave, he'll see me!"

Shit. Was JC calling to let me know he was in town? That would be nice of him.

Ben sat my coffee down on the stark white table just as I jumped up, and the coffee spilled.

"Oh shit! Sorry…" Ben pulled napkins out of his suit pocket and began mopping up my mess as I heard James demanding my attention on the other hand. "Oh, sweetie… I'm… I'm across the park and I'll be right there."

I heard James sniffle on the other end of the phone. My James didn't cry. I suddenly wanted to kill JC stupid Chasez for making my James cry!

I closed the phone and looked up to find Ben staring down at me. "Sorry. I… this was a lovely afternoon. How much for the coffee?"

"Nothing." He shook his head and then pointed at the phone. "Are you okay? Everything okay? You look shook up."

"No. Yeah. Love crisis. My best friend just broke up with his…" I stopped myself before I said too much.

I didn't know this man. I couldn't tell him the James Packard had broken up with his boyfriend who he now thought was calling from next door.

No. For all I knew he was a tabloid photographer posing as a copyright infringement lawyer who'd worked on one of the biggest art cases of our lifetime. I knew when I was thinking more clearly that thought would make me laugh. But not now.

"I have to go. Sorry. Thank you again for a lovely afternoon."

I was outside and hailing a cab when I felt his hand on my arm. "Do I have to stalk the Guggenheim to see you again? Do you come here often?"

So he's not gay?

A tiny part of my heart lifted, but then the other side remembered my poor James sitting alone in my apartment across the park with his heart breaking. This was so wrong.

Ben held out his business card. "Will you call me? Can I call you?"

I heard a snap and looked up to see a photographer across the street. "Fuck me!"

Ben's eyes grew wide and I had to laugh, "Oh… no! I mean. Over there… don't look!" Ben turned his eyes back to me, "There's a photographer and you might end up in the papers tomorrow."

"Should I know who you are?" He asked and I felt the last bit of the bubble around my perfect day pop.

"You don't know?" He shook his head. Okay, if he was an undercover tabloid reporter posing as a clueless lawyer, he was a really good actor. "I'm in a band… Sudden Silence?"

He continued shaking his head, "Unless you're an opera singer or the lead violinist with the New York Philharmonic, I'm afraid I've probably never heard of you." Just then a cab stopped and Ben opened the door. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to know who you are…"

I smiled up at him and tucked his card into my purse. "Rachel. My name's Rachel and once I figure out what's happening with my friend, I'll call you."

"I would love that, Ms. Rachel. I had a lovely afternoon."

"Me too. Thanks for the coffee."

I waved to Ben as my cab pulled away and then turned my attention to James. Maybe I could go over and talk to JC for a few minutes while James escaped.

Damnit. I thought JC wouldn't want to come to New York so soon after the break up. The only reason he'd gotten that apartment was to be closer to James. Yeah, he said it was so he had a place to stay while he was recording his album, but he was doing almost all of his album in LA.

Finally, I was home, and I ran into my apartment, glancing at the door to JC's place in the hallway. His curly head did not pop out when he heard the elevator.

James was sitting on the couch, staring at the phone.

"What's up?" I asked, sitting across from him in my favorite chair.

He didn't stop staring at the phone. "He's called three times now. He doesn't leave a message."

Considering something, I pulled out my cell phone. Four calls from Justin, but no messages.

"I think-" I started to say, but my home phone rang again. James and I exchanged a look and I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hola, senorita," Justin said. "'bout time you got home!"

"Justin," I said, looking at James, and he fell over on the couch. Was he really relieved? I bet a little part of him wanted JC to be across the hall.

"Why are you calling from JC's apartment?"

"Damn. Does it come up on your caller ID or something?"

"Sorry, yeah. What are you doing in New York?"

"Promo, and Jace offered his place. He wants me to bring him some stuff from here."

So JC wasn't planning on coming to New York any time soon. That was probably good.

"So, I thought maybe we could go out tonight, grab some dinner, hit the clubs…"

"Do you ever listen to anything I say, curly? I'm not going out with you."

"Order a pizza and christen this homosexual love nest with some hot boy-on-girl action?"

That made me laugh despite myself.

"I'm sorry, Justin, I've got plans tonight."

James sat up, shaking his head. "Go," he mouthed, while Justin was still talking.

"C'mon, babe, how often do you get to tap this ass?"

He was right… and James was still shaking his head at me. "Justin, I've got another call. Can I call you back in about fifteen minutes?"

"There's a key over here with your name on it. Fifteen minutes or I'm staging a home invasion."

"Fine," I said, and hung up the phone.

"We can go to your place and ignore the boy wonder," I told James, and he shook his head, getting up from the couch.

"No. I think I need to be alone tonight."

"James…" I said, but he started gathering his stuff.

"I came over here because I had a song idea and thought you'd picked up my notebook last night." He held it up before shrugging into his coat. "I want to work on this and just… be alone for a while."

"Are you sure?"

He smiled at me. "Positive. Go have some hot sex with Justin in JC's apartment."

"We can do it here."

"No, go there. The image of Justin Timberlake getting his freak on might ruin the place for me forever."

"Really? Because it's pretty hot."

James shook his head. "Sorry. There's only one Nsync boy for me."

I got up from my chair, hugging him. "I'm sorry."

He held me tightly for a moment. "So I am. But I'm okay, Rache. Really. I'm sorry I freaked out on you."

"Hey, I'd freak out if I thought Nick was calling, too. Believe me, I understand."

He kissed my forehead and stepped away from me. "Have a good night. See you at the studio tomorrow."

"Eleven, right?"

"Don't be late, or I'll have to explain why…."

I pushed him towards the door. "I won't be, I promise. I'll be tired of him long before then."

Something was ringing… singing… My phone was singing "Rio." James was calling.

I opened my eyes, trying to figure out where my phone was. I usually left it on the table by my bed, because my band had the annoying habit of calling at all hours with song ideas.

Yeah. I wasn't in my bed. That was Justin Timberlake's hand on my shoulder, and this was JC's bed.

I turned my head, and Justin was an arm's length away, one hand resting on my shoulder. We'd fallen asleep like that the last time we were together. It was like he wanted to snuggle up to me, but he was afraid I'd push him away.

I probably would. I didn't want, or need, a relationship with Justin freaking Timberlake right now. He didn't want or need a relationship with me, either, even if he might think he did. He needed a nice sweet girl who could adore him, not some crabby old lady like me who was still on the rebound.

A relationship with Ben, the nice lawyer I'd met yesterday… that might be okay.

Where did that come from?

My phone stopped ringing, and I slipped out of bed, finding it on the table next to the front door, where I'd left it on top a stack of takeout menus. I gathered my clothes off the floor before calling James back.

"I need your guitar," he said, before I even said hello.

"Okay."

"Can I come over?"

"What time is it?" I asked, looking around for a clock. Why didn't JC have a clock anywhere?

"8:30."

"Have you slept at all?" I got up, going into the kitchen and turning on the oven. Justin and I couldn't compromise on pepperoni or sausage on the pizza we'd ordered at midnight, so we'd gotten two. There were lots of leftovers. My clothes had gotten scattered throughout the apartment after two slices.

"Have you?" James countered, and I scowled at the phone.

"A little."

"Are you home?"

"I will be by the time you get here. I'll even have pizza for you."

"Fifteen minutes. He can't have breakfast with you, I need to play you a song."

"Okay," I said, but James had already hung up.

"Who are you giving my pizza to?"

I checked the boxes on the counter and opened the one with sausage. "I was going to heat up some of the sausage and bring you breakfast in bed."

Justin kissed me, leaning over and trapping me against the counter. "But you're dressed. Breakfast in bed only works when the waitress is naked."

"Sorry, curly, I have to get to work."

He scowled at me. "It's only 8:30!"

"James has a song idea that he needs me to listen to. We've only got three weeks to finish this album, so we're working hard."

Justin sighed, moving away from me and opening the refrigerator. "I have a meeting at 10."

"And it takes you a while to get beautiful."

"Shut up," he said, emerging from the fridge with two Cokes and handing me one. "It's not like I have hair to deal with."

I pouted at him, smoothing down my curls and making him laugh.

"Your curls are great," he said, kissing me again, then moving to nuzzle my neck. My stomach lept a little. "Stay and have a piece of pizza with me?"

Twenty minutes later, I walked into my apartment and James was already there, my guitar in his lap and Ben's business card in his hand. "Who's Benjamin Lawson?"

"A guy I met at the museum yesterday. Why are you going through my stuff?"

"It was sitting here on the coffee table. Why are you talking to an entertainment lawyer?" He demanded.

I pulled the card out of his hand and looked at it. I'd just tossed it on the coffee table when I'd emptied my pockets before going over to see Justin. I hadn't really looked at it.

All I knew was the he'd worked on the Mapplethorpe exhibit, and I never really asked exactly what he did. And Lawson? The firm was called Gibson and Lawson. He was a partner?

"We started talking about the exhibit and he gave me his card. It's nothing," I said dismissively.

"Why do you need a new lawyer?"

I tossed the card on the table again and smiled at James' paranoid tone. "Because he was hot. I'm not hiring him. I hope to date him."

James finally cracked a smile. "You always said you needed a safe stable stockbroker. Lawyer's close enough?"

Sitting across from him, I shrugged. "We'll see. What do you need me to hear that's so important?"

James didn't write a lot of songs. He'd have bits and pieces, once in a while a whole song that we'd take and edit into something else. Jeremy and I were the prolific ones, with new stuff nearly every day.

Looking nervous, he started playing, a quiet, pretty melody.

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