Chapter Fifteen

Saturday, 8:15pm, New York City

JC almost choked on his drink when he looked up and saw Justin standing in the doorway. He looked purposeful… and somewhat like a mob boss with the two security guards flanking him.

“Are you ok?” Grace said turning away from the bar and patting JC’s back.

“Yeah,” JC coughed, quickly composing himself. “Check it out.”

Grace followed his pointed finger to the curly-topped young man making his way toward Regan. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she muttered under her breath. “I suppose you had this planned all along.”

“No but some last minute planning and a brief talk with young Sully this morning…”

“Excuuse me,” Grace interrupted, “you almost choked on your champagne, you were so shocked to see him.”

“Hey just because I set it in motion doesn’t mean I actually thought the girl could talk him into flying up here last minute.”

Grace let out an exacerbated sigh turning to claim her own champagne from the bartender. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things off the top of my head,” he winked.

Grace swatted his arm with her free hand and shook her head ruefully as the she ragrded the young man crossing the softly lit room. She offered up a silent prayer that she would have media frenzy to clean up in the morning. She wondered, glancing at JC, if she was the only one who caught the look in Jack Salinger’s eyes. He was off to the side, away from where Regan stood with Mae still in her arms. Downing a Heineken, he looked none too happy.

“Uh… JC?” she spoke up suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Would you say Justin has a temper?”

“He’s had his moments,” JC shrugged before turning slowly to face her. “Why…”

“Because that kid, Jack, looks like he’s ready to rumble and I was just wondering if Justin would have the presence of mind to use his head for something other than a battering ram if this guy starts pushing his buttons.”

“Damn,” JC breath, noticing that Grace’s assessment of Jack’s state of mind seemed to be dead on. He started making his way over to where the scene was about to unfold, leading Grace by the hand.

Across the room Regan couldn’t tear her eyes away from those of the purposefully approaching young man. Mae wiggled impatiently out of her arms and scampered off to play with the other kids leaving Regan with nothing to steady herself with. She willed her heart to slow to its normal beat but it was a useless attempt.

From Justin’s perspective, not only did he experience all of the physical reactions that came with such a close proximity to her body, he also had a mountain of tension resting on his shoulders from the knowledge of what he’d come there to do.

Justin could have sworn his heart lept clear out of his chest when he saw her lips gracefully spread in the smile he’d, for weeks, only been able to see in his dreams. The thought of her smile was the only force strong enough to push the image of her perfect lips on Jack’s from his mind. There was only one place he wanted those lips to be and tonight was going to be the night he stopped denying himself what he wanted.

If you asked Justin or Regan how long it had taken him to get from the door to where she stood, they both would have sworn it was hours. In reality Justin’s epic voyage took less than two minutes. Regardless of the time it took or the exertion used, Justin had to catch his breath when he reached his destination.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” Regan said, embarrassed at how soft her voice came out.

“Well, I didn’t get an invite. Just thought I’d crash,” Justin grinned, knowing he could have the upper hand if he took it.

His cocky smile was enough to shake Regan out of her daze. “That’s bull. I told JC you were all invited and I told you personally when I started planning this thing. Is that why the other guys didn’t come?”

“Nah, we’ve been swamped with interviews and rehearsals and photo shoots. Someone had to stay and hold down the fort while JC’s off prancing around New York.”

“Hey,” a voice said from behind Regan. “I don’t prance.”

Justin smiled at JC, Regan’s shorter stature making him clearly visible over her head.

“So you made it, after all, Curly,” JC grinned, the victorious twinkle in his eyes not lost on Justin.

“Yeah," he replied, shooting his friend a subtle look of warning. “What can I say? I’m just full of surprises.”

“Hey what's going on over here?” Bridget called out, approaching the growing circle. “Kid!” she cried, throwing her arms around Justin.

“Kid? I’m all man, baby!”

“Yeah, sure,” Bridget chuckled before whipping around. “And you!” she grinned broadly, focusing her attention on Regan. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this off without us knowing. I had NO idea. Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite sister-in-law?”

“I’m you’re only sister-in-law,” Regan laughed as Bridget drew her into a hug.

“My only sister, too,” Bridget said, tearing up.

“Oh c’mon, don’t get all mushy on me, now,” Regan teased, fighting off her own tears.

“Jesus Christ Almighty, what happened now?” Mike groaned approaching the hugging ladies.

“Nothing, Mike, they’re just being girls,” JC chuckled, shaking his friend’s hand. “Everything’s copasetic.”

“Just being girls?” three incredulous voices spoke up.

JC cringed and turned slowly to see the expectant faces of Bridget, Regan, and Grace.

“Well, I didn’t mean—”

“JC Chasez, I’m shocked, really,” Justin grinned, throwing one arm around Regan and the other around Grace. “Ladies I apologize for my friend’s chauvinistic remark. I just don’t know what to do with him sometimes.”

JC narrowed his eyes at the young man.

“Well, Mr. Chasez, looks like I chose the wrong Nsync-er to non-date,” Grace smirked evilly.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, Ms. Roberts, but I think Curly is spoken for,” JC replied before he could think to stop himself. His eyes widened at his own comment, as did everyone else’s in the circle.

Regan’s face turned three shades of red and Justin could feel her stiffen under his arm.

“Well,” Bridget started, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Mike, why don’t we go and talk to your Dad?” She grabbed her husband’s hand and led him away before he could object.

“JC,” Grace said, slipping out from under Justin’s arm, “why don’t we go somewhere that’s… um… away?”

“Smooth,” JC whispered as she led him away.

“Yeah, cus I was the one who started this,” Grace chuckled sarcastically.

“Hey, at least I opened it up for conversation,” JC defended himself. “You and I both know they would have beaten around the bush all night.”

“I’ll give you that, but there’s something you’re forgetting,” Grace said, stopping in her tracks.

“What?”

“The reason we went over there in the first place," Grace explained, nodding at Jack who was still simmering in his little corner, intently watching Justin and Regan. The two seemed frozen, Justin’s arm still wrapped around Regan’s shoulder. He looked like he was searching his mind for the words to come to him.

This was exactly the case. Justin had been rehearsing what he wanted to say since he left for the airport in Atlanta. In truth, he’d been rehearsing for this moment since that afternoon in LA when he’d decided Regan was what he wanted.

Justin took a deep breath and moved so that he was standing in front of her. The arm that’d been draped over her shoulders had followed the line of her arm and ran down to capture her hand. Justin smiled inwardly as Do I Have to Say the Words came over the speakers. “May I have this dance?”

In Regan’s mind, those five words had been what started this whole mess. Her mind flashed back to the way Justin’s eyes looked when they’d danced that night in the alley behind the very building they were in now. They looked very much the way they did at the moment. All she could do was nod and revel in the feelings exploding within her as Justin grasped her other hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.

Justin pulled Regan’s hands up to his broad shoulders. His own hands dropped to her waist and pulled her closer. His eyes bore into her own with such intensity she thought she’s crumble under the weight of it. Neither saw Jack push himself away form the wall he’d been propped up against and start to make his way toward them.

“My I cut in?”

Regan’s body tensed at Jack’s voice. It was pleasant as was his face when she turned to look at him but the bitterness was unmistakable.

“Jack,” Regan began, forcing a smile and pulling away form Justin, “you remember Justin.”

“Jack,” Justin greeted, offering the other man his hand.

“Good to see you again, Jason,” Jack said taking his hand and a firm shake, as though trying to prove a point.

“It’s Justin,” Regan corrected, knowing exactly where this was going and dreading it immensely.

“Oh right, sure, Justin. So how goes the pop life?”

“Really well. We’re gearing up for our summer tour right now, so we’re really busy.”

“But you found the time to come up here. That was nice of you.”

Regan cringed, wishing someone would come over and diffuse the situation. She didn’t want to say anything, knowing she’d only making things worse.

“Well, our manager made up the slack by scheduling some interviews up here for me and JC to handle. Plus…” Justin took a deep breath wondering if he should provoke the reaction he knew what he was about to say would bring before he continued. “I wanted to be here for Regan. Frankly, the phone calls just aren’t enough anymore.”

Regan’s jaw dropped. She closed her eyes, not wanted to witness what Jack’s reaction to Justin's simple yet inflammatory comments. She opened her eyes again when she heard a new voice introduced to the conversation.

“Regan, who’s your friend, here?” Sean Costelloe said approaching the threesome.

Justin immediately recognized the man as Mike and Regan’s father. His tense countenance softened into a smile as he held out his hand to Regan’s dad.

“Da, this is Justin Timberlake,” Regan introduced.

“Justin, it’s good to meet ya. Regan’s told me a great deal about you,” Sean said through his thick brogue.

“Same here, sir. Regan talks about you all the time.”

“All good, I hope.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Justin smiled.

“Well, Regan, I’d like to get a picture of you and your bother, if you don’t mind,” Sean said, taking his daughter’s hand.

Regan’s eyes shot from Justin to Jack and back again. “Uh, Da, I don’t think—”

“C’mon, love. Let these men talk about manly things,” Sean insisted. “I’d join you but it’s been so long since I’ve killed a lion with my bare hands.”

Regan’s face was pitiful as her father led her away from Jack and Justin. It only took a moment for what was really going on to occur to her. “You knew exactly what you were doing back there, didn’t you?” Regan questioned as they approached the table were Bridget, Mike, Grace, and JC were sitting.

“Darlin’, sometimes to see the true colors of a man, you have to see how they handle the temptation to kick another man’s teeth in. Personally, I like that Justin. He had a good handshake.”

Regan laughed lightly. “You ought to make handshake reading into an industry. What about Jack’s”

“He was overanxious. Trying to prove something,” Sean answered matter-of-factly. “But it’s not what I think that counts. You have to make up your own mind.”

“Whoa, Da. I don’t know what—”

“Come now, Regan. It doesn’t take eyes to see you’re struggling over those two.”

“Da, I am n—”

“Don’t even bother, love. You were never good at hiding yourself.”

“Where’s the kid?” Bridget asked when they got to the table.

“Over there,” Regan nodded, “with Jack.”

“You left them alone?” Bridget asked incredulously.

“I hope Justin kicks that kid’s ass,” Mike remarked out of no where.

Everyone’s head shot up.

“What? It’s no secret I’m not quite comfortable with Regan and… ya know… guys. But that kid has been challenging me to pissing contests since I met him. I don’t trust him and I don’t trust him with Regan. I’d kick his ass myself if I thought he wouldn’t press charges.”

“Oh, God,” Regan gasped realizing what could happen if things got out of hand. “Something like that could ruin his career, couldn’t it?”

“Tell me about it,” Grace said dryly, taking a sip of his third glass of champagne. The alcohol was this only thing keeping her calm at that rate.

“No way,” JC said, confidently. “Justin would never throw the first punch. Or even the second. He has very few buttons that can send him over the edge like that.”

“What? And you don’t think she’s one of them?” Bridget asked, motioning to Regan.

“You’ve got a point, chicks,” JC cringed.

“I’m gonna go over there,” Regan announced.

“Regan, let the boys work it out on there own,” Sean said firmly.

“No, I don’t want them to work it out here. This is Mike and Bridget’s night and I don’t want anything to ruin that,” Regan said, marching off in the direction of where she’d left the boys moments earlier. What she found wasn’t very encouraging.

“I’m going to tell you this one time, superstar. You want to be her little shoulder to lean on, that’s fine. But if you don’t back off what’s mine, I’ll make you back off.”

Regan’s mouth dropped for about the hundredth time in the past twenty minutes. Did he just claim me as property?

“Listen, Jack, I don’t know what medieval guide to dating you’ve been reading but last time I checked, a woman wasn’t an ownable object,” Justin retorted.

Regan inhaled deeply before forcing herself in between the two men. “Not here,” she said simply. “If you two want to beat your chests, do it some place else.”

Justin nodded in understanding, taking a step back and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” Regan smiled softly, turning to Jack. “What about you?”

Jack’s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes burning with something Regan couldn’t quite place. “C’mon,” he said, cupping her elbow roughly.

“What?” Regan shook her head, trying to shrug off his grasp.

“Let her go,” Justin said, unmoving, save the tick in his temple.

“I want to talk to you,” Jack continued, ignoring Justin’s not-so-veiled threat.

“I told you. Not here,” Regan refusing, trying once again to free her arm.

Justin tried to remain calm, knowing that if he moved, there’d be no going back. It wasn’t until he saw Jack’s hand clench tighter on Regan’s arm and heard Regan’s soft squeal of pain that he lost the restraint he was clinging to. He stepped forward again, menacingly. “If you don’t remove your hand, I’ll remove it for you.”

“I thought I told you to mind your business Timberlake,” Jack spat.

“Jack,” Regan started, placing her free hand on Justin’s chest to keep him from moving closer. “I want you to leave. You’re acting like a crazy person.”

“I’m acting like a crazy person? I saw you two dancing before. I may be acting like a crazy person but you’re acting like a slut.”

That was it. Justin surged forward, pushing Regan out of the way and clutching Jack’s shirt at the collar. He pushed forward until Jack hit a nearby table and pinned him there. “Apologize,” Justin ordered through gritted teeth. Jack just stared back, fire burning in his eyes. Justin pulled Jack’s body up form the table and slammed it back down in demand of compliance to his order.

“Justin!” Regan called out, finding her voice. “Stop it!”

The entire room was silent, all eyes focused on the activity just off the dance floor.

Regan came up behind Justin, placing her hands on the tense muscles of his shoulders. “Justin, please. Don’t do this here. I love that you’d defend me like this but it’s Mike and Bridget’s night. Please.”

Regan’s soft pleading voice was the only thing that broke through Justin’s haze of anger. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could say anything so hurtful or degrading to a person like Regan. There was no excuse. No one was allowed to speak to her like that.

By now, a crowd had formed around the three, waiting for someone to make a move. Mike and JC held themselves in check despite the knowledge that whatever button Jack has pushed had to have been something serious— most likely, knowing Justin, a shot at Regan’s honor. Justin pulled back slowly, releasing Jack’s shirt but giving him a sound shove for emphasis.

"You ever touch her again like that, you ever say anything about her like that again, and you’ll be going through med school in a wheel chair,” Justin warned.

“Yeah, you’ll hear from my lawyer, Timberlake,” Jack spat, fixing his shirt.

“Whoa, touched her how?” Mike demanded, moving toward Jack.

“Nothing,” Regan assured him, moving to stop him form going any closer. “It doesn’t matter. Jack was just leaving.”

“Oh, and as far as that lawyer goes,” Bridget began with a snide laugh, “you’ll be hard pressed to find a witness in this room.”

“I think you better go,” Regan said softly, meeting his hard gaze that’d been on her since Justin let him up.

“So you’re going to throw away what we have over him?”

“You know, I wasn’t so sure what I wanted out of what we had for a long time, Jack. But now… I don’t’ want to be with someone who leaves his fingerprints on my arm… who calls me a slut,” Regan said, checking her volume when she realized how loud she was getting. “I didn’t want to do this here but you just keep pushing. Mostly I don’t want someone I don’t trust. You used to make me feel safe when I first met you. That’s been gone for weeks now. Please, Jack. Just leave.”

Jack looked around the eyes staring at him and knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere that night. He turned to walk away when he came face to chest with Sean Costelloe.

His hard stare would have put the fear of God into anyone but when he spoke— the cool, steady flow of his words— was more intimidating than anything Justin had ever witnessed. He took a moment to thank God that neither the start nor the words were directed at him.

“If you ever some near my daughter again, young Timberlake will be the least of your worries.”

Justin stifled a smile at that. He glanced over at Regan who was protectively tucked under Mike’s arm. Mike looked just about ready to spit bullets. He imagined he must’ve looked the same a moment before— probably still did. His facial muscles relaxed as his eyes landed directly on Regan’s. She’d been looking at him, too. He could’ve sworn she blushed a bit when their eyes met but he couldn’t be sure in the dim lighting. The look was one of thanks but more than that; it was one that acknowledged something neither had been ready to acknowledge until that moment. Though neither had said a word about it in the two months since they’d met, the unspoken recognition would make the words easier to come.

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