Samantha Clark rested against the black leather interior of the limousine; her steady gaze focused on the activity just outside the car’s tinted glass windows. Propping her elbow on the armrest of the door, she clutched the platinum cross pendant hanging from her slender neck between her thumb and forefinger and began sliding it back and forth along the dainty chain from which it hung. She recalled the night Lance had given her the necklace. It was here, in this city she’d come to love so much over the past couple of years, as a gift for her 22nd birthday. The piece’s ruby and diamond stones still sparkled as brightly as they had when it was brand new. Sam was thankful that despite the obvious monetary value of the necklace, it possessed a rather demure appearance allowing her to feel comfortable enough to wear it as an everyday accessory. In fact, there had only been a handful of days over the almost two year span when the token of his affection hadn’t graced her neck.
Sam took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the raging tension flowing through her entire body as she watched the flurry of people bustle through the New York sidewalk before her. The mid-June sun cast it’s radiant beams on the crowds as they went about their normal routines, Sam studying them carefully as her driver maneuvered steadily through the heavy afternoon traffic.
“Are you okay? You’ve been awful quiet today.”
Allowing the necklace to fall from her fingers and drop back to it’s resting spot at her collarbone, Sam turned to the man seated beside her. Her Naters, as she called him. Only she could get away with that however, to everyone else he was Nathan, or maybe occasionally Nate, but never Naters. Even as a child he had always hated that nickname he’d told her once, but somehow it never bothered him one bit when Sam started using it.
He’d been her personal bodyguard for almost a year now. Lance had decided it was necessary it after a rather unsettling incident during the middle of *NSYNC’s PopOdyssey Tour the summer before. Sam had been cornered by a group of female fans, which could only be described as crazed, in a bathroom hallway at one of the venues. The women had already slung a large dose of verbal insults at her when a security guard came to her aide.
Lance immediately insisted on hiring her a personal guard, but she argued that it wasn’t needed. That what had happened was most certainly just an isolated incident. He didn’t share her opinion and also reminded that because of their openness concerning their relationship, she had become increasingly visible in the public eye and that would only escalate as their situation progressed. He even told her of the death threats they’d received against her, something that he hadn’t told her before to spare her any undue worry. She wasn’t surprised by that information, knowing that some of the other girlfriends, both past and current, not to mention the guys themselves, had received the same types of threats, and still resisted the notion of having her own security. But Lance was adamant.
“Don’t fight me on this Sam, you’ll lose…” his stern words floated through her head. She knew once he made up his mind, there’d be no chance of changing it, especially when it came to her safety. He’d been her most fierce protector almost since the very moment they met. It was a natural role for him and one that she had drawn great comfort from. And although she’d never admitted it to him, the incident had frightened her greatly. She wasn’t sure exactly how far those fans might have taken their attack had the guard not come along. So she conceded but not before asserting that she would find her own qualified bodyguard, to which Lance somewhat reluctantly agreed.
Nathan had been referred to her by the same agency that Johnny Wright often used to find security for his many artists. Sam knew shortly into their first meeting that he was the right man for the job. He was a large guy, 6’4” to be exact, and at first glance his girth might be contributed to excess fat but further examination proved that it was all muscle. His hair was sandy blonde complimenting his warm complexion and his eyes a medium shade of brown. He was an attractive man, but not in a conventional manner. On the exterior he was certainly intimidating, but deep down he was nothing but a teddy bear, and that’s precisely why Sam choose him.
“Hello?” he teased, waving a massive hand in front of her face. “SG, are you in there?”
Sam slapped his hand away, smiling at the nickname he’d coined for her upon learning of her middle name. He had told her that instead of “OG” for Original Gangsta, he was going to call her “SG” for Samantha Gale. The comparison never made much sense to her, other than the similar initials, but she thought it was cute nonetheless.
“I’m fine,” she finally answered.
“I’m not exactly an expert, but shouldn’t you be all excited or something?” he asked.
“I am, I’m just trying to talk as little as possible,” she explained, barely opening her mouth.
“Why?” Nathan asked confused.
“Because the more I talk, the more I give the throw up a chance to escape through my open orifice.”
“C’mon, you can’t be that nervous. You’ve done this at least half a dozen times before.” Sam raised an eyebrow at him, her lips now pursed. “Okay, maybe not under these exact circumstances, but still,” he paused as he placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Just try to relax and enjoy it. Please? If not for yourself, at least do it for me?” he begged, pouting his lips.
“Oh if my crazed stalkers could see you now, they’d be so afraid,” she said sarcastically.
“Sorry, I’ll put on my scary face,” he said, almost instantaneously transforming his expression into that of a typical menacing bodyguard.
“It still freaks me out every time you do that,” the brunette woman said squirming about in her seat. “But I’ll try to calm down, just for you,” she patronized, squeezing his round cheeks.
“That’s all I ask,” he smiled at her. “Hey you wanna hear about this new watch/two-way radio thing I was reading about?”
“Sure,” Sam smiled at his obvious enthusiasm as he began to speak much like a child would about a new toy.
She struggled to keep her focus on his animated description as her thoughts pulled her back in time. Back to the day that began this new path in her life that would officially be launched today. It was almost surreal to think that it was only a mere year and a half earlier that she’d finally made that fateful decision.
*****
Sam waited impatiently for the printer to spit out the document she’d just finished typing as she sat at her desk inside the Orlando offices of FreeLance Entertainment. She and Lance shared the large corner suite at the end of the hallway. About one third of the space was delegated for a sort of reception area, with two chairs lining the outer walls and Sam’s workspace in the corner, her desk right outside Lance’s spacious office. As she glanced over the freshly inked piece of paper she now held in her hand, she grumbled at her obvious mistake and dropped it into the recycle box before turning back to her computer. Typing on the keyboard, she quickly changed the year from 2000 to 2001. She still wasn’t quite accustomed to using the new date this early into January.
Taking the paper from the tray after printing it for a second time, she placed it into a folder, adding it to a stack of other things that would require Lance’s attention once he returned to the office. Sam picked up her ink pen and crossed that task of off her list, realizing it was the last thing she had to tackle for the day. She began tapping the pen against the large calendar covering her desktop as she searched her mind for something else to keep herself occupied with until Lance was scheduled to arrive minutes later. Normally she would just catch up on e-mails or phone calls on those rare occasions she found herself with no work to do, but today nervous energy wouldn’t allow her to do that.
She’d been seriously considering it for a while, and secretly dreaming about it since the very first time he’d proposed it so long ago. But now she was completely sure, and she was ready to tell him so. ‘If he ever gets here,’ she grumbled to herself glancing at the silver bangle watch on her wrist. As the agonizing seconds continued to drag on, she did what little tidying she could do to her already clean desk, smiling as she gazed at the framed restaurant menu perched atop the wooden surface. It was from the karaoke bar where she had first sung in front of Lance. The night they eventually became a couple. He had it mounted and framed and gave it to her as a Christmas gift a few weeks earlier. She realized now that it in addition to being a souvenir of the beginning of their romantic bond, it would also serve as a reminder of the start of a completely different aspect of their relationship. And she had a feeling that was what he had hoped for all along in giving it to her.
Sam began toying with the ring on her finger, another holiday present from her loving boyfriend. It’s channel-set rubies and diamonds in their platinum setting was a perfect match to her necklace, just as she was sure he’d also planned. She smiled widely, recalling how he had given it to her Christmas morning while they were still in bed. She had been extremely shocked and hesitated only momentarily about which finger she should slip the ring onto. Lance had taken over and placed it on her right hand, telling her not to worry - when he gave her an engagement ring, she would know. She enjoyed the fact that he had said when, as opposed to if, almost more than she did the jewelry itself.
Peering down at the timepiece on her wrist once again, she realized she’d reached the end of her very limited patience. Grabbing her cell phone out of habit, rather than the office phone that sat atop her desk, she flipped through the list of programmed numbers and selected the speed dial she desired. Biting her bottom lip, she listened as the first few ring tones sounded before he finally answered on the fourth signal.
“Hey lover,” he greeted her smoothly enticing a hail of giggles as she felt herself blushing.
“How’d you know it was me?”
“Duh! Caller ID,” he reminded teasingly.
“But still, it could’ve been someone else,” she reasoned.
“Who else would call me from your cell phone?”
“I don’t know. So I take it wherever you are, you must be alone?”
“Why do you say that?” the man questioned.
“Well because I don’t think you’d answer the phone like that if there were other people around,” Sam explained.
“Wouldn’t I? I’m not ashamed. I’ve waited a long time to be able to say that. I really like the way it sounds too,” he said with a small laugh. “In fact, I’m gonna tell the whole world. We are lovers…you are my LOV-ER.”
“Lance!” she gasped, her face now burning.
“I’m just kidding. I am alone. What’s up?” he asked chuckling.
“Where are you?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Which kitchen would that be?” Sam prodded.
“The kitchen at the office. Why? Where are you?” Lance returned.
“At my desk in the office. You must have came in the back?”
“Yeah. There weren’t any parking spaces out front. That is the one negative thing about this place, the parking sucks,” he lamented.
“That explains why I didn’t see you walk past the office on your way back to the kitchen,” she realized.
“I suppose it does. So do you think we can turn these things off now and talk face to face?” Lance asked with a grin as he stood in the doorway. Sam returned his smile as they both switched off their phones. “I know, I’m running late. I’m sorry,” he apologized as he bustled past her desk and into his office to deposit the armful of various paperwork he carried. “Any messages?” he hollered from the other room.
“Nothing important,” Sam answered as he returned to the main room taking a large bite out of an apple.
“Did you stock the refrigerator again?” he asked leaning against the edge of her desk.
“I did,” she confirmed with a small nod.
“You’re so great,” he beamed leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “I was starving.”
“Mmm,” Sam murmured licking the apple juice from her lips. “I have to say, I’m very surprised that with all the junk in there, you decided on fruit.”
“Oh I have Hot Pockets cooking in the microwave,” Lance revealed.
“I should’ve known,” she said shaking her head.
“Hey it’s not like you’re exactly Miss Health Food yourself,” he teased back.
Sam just smiled as she reached for the stack of folders on her desk. “You know the drill – read, approve, sign,” she reminded handing the documents to Lance.
“So what’s with all the fancy-smancy-ness today?” he inquired as he looked her over, casting a pointed glance on the sparkling jewels creeping out from the sleeve of her tailored suit. Her brown, shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, complimenting the very business-like style of the form fitting navy blue pinstriped jacket and skirt ensemble she wore. The hemline of the skirt stopped just above her knees, giving way to nude stockings that clung to her toned legs and a pair of matching blue sling-back heels which adorned her small feet. “I mean you look great, but I’ve never seen you get this dressed up just to come into the office.”
“Thank you,” she replied hesitantly, realizing that Lance had most undoubtedly noticed that she was wearing every piece of jewelry he had ever given her, including the diamond bracelet which she usually reserved for special occasions due to it’s extravagance.
“Anything special going on today that I should be aware of?” he pushed again.
“Well I just thought it might be nice to give the impression that we actually are a legitimate business here. Especially with that new artist coming in today…” she trailed off as he nodded. She could tell he knew there was more to the story than that, but she also knew that he wouldn’t force the issue, as he knew she’d tell him when she felt ready.
“Ah yes, this new artist… is she here yet?”
“No. She was delayed by her boss, but she should be here shortly,” Sam explained with a smirk before realizing that her boyfriend didn’t appear to be listening to her. Instead he was staring at her, his green eyes piercing in their gaze. “Stop looking at me like that!” she ordered through a clenched jaw.
“I can’t help it,” Lance smiled. “You look incredibly sexy in that outfit.”
“I’m not supposed to be sexy, I’m supposed to be professional,” she huffed, folding her arms across her chest as she sat back against her chair.
“And you do, I just happen to find it very appealing,” he said pulling the chair closer to him with his foot.
Sam sighed as she looked up at him, a vibrant grin spreading over her rosy lips. “You’re not half bad yourself, but since we can’t do anything about it at the moment, knock it off already!”
“Who says we can’t?” Lance proposed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“I believe it was you who said we should keep things strictly professional while we were in the office,” she recalled as he inched closer to her.
“Actually, I said while we were around other people in the office,” he corrected. “And right now, I only see you and me.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Beth, the front-desk receptionist, began timidly as she stood in the hallway, an apologetic look on her face.
“It’s okay,” Sam said quickly, blushing slightly as Lance righted himself. “What’s up?”
“My son missed his bus and he’s stuck at school. Would it be a problem if I took off early?” the thirty-something woman requested.
“Go ahead, it’s been dead around here today anyway. I can handle the phon…” the brunette woman trailed off as Lance glared at her. “Oops, that’s probably something, you, the boss, should answer huh?” Sam grinned sheepishly.
Laughing at his girlfriend, he turned around to face the doorway where Beth stood. “Of course it’s okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, you two have a nice night,” she smiled before heading back down the hallway.
“You too,” the couple chorused as a faint ding sounded in the other room. “I think that is your Hot Pockets,” Sam informed.
“Do you want to come join me? I’m willing to share my highly nutritious meal,” Lance said sarcastically.
“No thanks, I ate lunch about three hours ago… ya know, at lunchtime,” she teased.
“Well excuse me for being busy. If I remember correctly, you were still in bed snoring when I left this morning for my meetings, which I was in all day before rushing directly over here to meet some mysterious new artist that you won’t tell me anything about,” he shot back.
“She’s… just… nervous about your expectations so I promised her that I wouldn’t give you any details until she spoke with you face to face,” Sam supplied weakly.
“How do you know her?”
“Your food is getting cold,” she reminded, dodging his question.
“Is it Mel?” he speculated.
“No, it’s not Mel. Now go!” Sam ordered pushing him towards the door.
“Okay fine, I’ll be in the conference room going over this stuff while I eat… alone,” he pouted as he left.
Sam waited another agonizing twenty minutes or so, allowing him plenty of time to eat and tend to the paperwork she’d given him, before she made her way to the large meeting room.
“Did she chicken out?” Lance questioned as his girlfriend entered the room clutching a single manila folder.
“No…” she began only to be cut off.
“Oh I see, you’re just bringing me more work then?” he assumed, motioning towards the folder she held. “Well you’re just in time because I’m done with all of this.”
“Not exactly…I…uh… she’s here,” Sam fumbled miserably.
The blonde man looked at her strangely. “Okay, bring her in.”
She closed her brown eyes as she inhaled a deep, calming breath, blowing it back out slowly as she reopened her eyelids and extended her hand towards him. “Samantha Clark. I understand you’re looking for new artists.” He sat silent as he stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Lance?” she pressed, letting her hand fall to her side.
“Are you serious?” he finally managed to get out after a long silence before partially answering his own query. “I knew there was something up with you today.”
“I am, and there is, but before you get all excited, there are a few non-negotiable terms I have that you may want to hear.”
“Okay,” the young man nodded slowly as she sat in the chair beside him, he was obviously still a bit stunned. “Let’s hear them.”
“First of all, I want to record Mel’s songs… I want to see if I can’t turn some of my stuff into songs with the help of JC and Justin… who I also want to do the majority of the producing, if not all of it, of course that’s assuming that they’ll want to work with me… although JC did say awhile back that he’d love to read some of my writings… but he could have just been being polite…” she babbled. “Anyway, I’m going to be nervous enough as it is, and I don’t want to be worrying about whether or not I can trust whoever it might be that I’m working with. JC and Justin know me, they know what I like and what I don’t.”
Sam paused for a breath before continuing.
“Secondly, you will be paid the standard scale for managers,” Sam could tell he was about to object but she quickly quieted him. “And if you want to argue, I’m sure Johnny would have no problem taking my money,” she pointed out. “And lastly, and most importantly, if, for whatever reason, it starts having a negative affect on you and I, then it’s over right then and there. I’m completely serious when I say that,” she stated adamantly. “I don’t see there being any problems since we’ve had none working together in the past, but I just want to put it out there at the beginning. I really want the chance to be able to sing and perform but not at the expense of our relationship.”
“Is that everything?” Lance inquired, a thoughtful look gracing his handsome features.
“Yes, so if after all that you still think you can get me a record deal and make me this big star that you claim I will be, then I put myself in your very capable hands,” she smiled warmly at him.
“You do know that new artists don’t normally come to the table with demands, right?” he asked with arched brow.
“What about this situation did you ever expect to be normal?” Sam retorted.
“Nothing I suppose,” Lance chuckled.
“Exactly, so if you’re ready to make it official, I took the liberty of having your assistant draw up the contracts,” she grinned widely before opening the folder she’d brought with her. “You’re free to read them over of course, but I’m sure you trust her.”
“I do,” he smiled taking the papers. “I trust her to be overly-compensatory when it comes to my percentages,” he added as he quickly glanced over the document.
“The thought crossed my mind, but I knew it’d be hard enough to get you to take the minimum,” she explained grabbing his ink pen. “Everything satisfactory sir?” Sam asked as he finished reading.
“Yes, but before we sign, are you sure this is something that you really want?”
“Aren’t you the one that’s been telling me for months now that it is?” she returned teasingly.
“My point exactly. If you’re going to do this, it has to be for you, not for me or anybody else,” Lance stressed, the concern evident in his pale eyes.
Taking the contract from his hand, Sam flipped to the back page. “I’m sure,” she promised as she inked her name on the line and handed it back to him.
“You’re positive? Because once I…” he began, his voice taunting as he held the pen just above the paper.
“Just sign the damn thing!” she shouted in frustration as he laughed.
“Welcome to FreeLance Entertainment… again,” Lance joked as he scribbled his name on the contract and slipped it back inside the folder. “We need to call JC and Justin and find out when they think they can start writing with you, and Mel for that matter too. I’ll call Johnny to see when we can use his studios, and we should get you working with Wade or someone soon on some choreography, I assume you’ll want to have some sort of dancing aspect right? And I know Justin’s been writing with Wade for the new album, maybe he can do some stuff with you in that capacity too.”
“We’ll see,” Sam replied, her tone non-committal as she marveled at how quickly his business mind had sprung into action.
“And then after your demo is done, I’ll send it out to some record companies, set up a few performances for you, maybe a showcase…” he trailed off as she stood up and gathered the pile of folders from the table. “Where are you going?”
“Now that you’re finished with these, I have to fax them, mail them, copy them, and so on,” she answered simply. “Oh that’s another thing I forgot to mention… I will remain your assistant until it’s physically impossible for me to do so. You juggle several different projects, there’s no reason I can’t do the same,” she insisted.
“But don’t you want to celebrate or something?” he asked confused.
“I have work to do,” Sam replied trying to remain stern-faced, despite the fact she could feel her own excitement radiating over her features.
“Get over here!” Lance demanded pulling her down onto his lap as he placed a series of kisses all over her face, squeezing her tightly as her joyous laughter filled the air.
*****
“So what do you think? Wouldn’t that be cool to have?”
“Oh… uh… yeah sure,” Sam mumbled still emerging from the fog of her memories.
Nathan recognized her obvious disinterest. “They cost about a million dollars. Do you think your manager would spring for that?” he questioned with a devilish grin.
“Of course. I’ll talk to him about it later,” she answered distractedly as she stared out the window.
“You haven’t been listening to one word I’ve said, have you?!” he shouted comically.
Sam laughed, finally fully in the present again. “Naters, do I ever listen to you when you go all computer/gadget talk on me?” she teased, glancing quickly at the two other women in the car with them, Jen, her long-time friend, and Michele, her hair and makeup artist. The three women laughed as Nathan gasped.
“You don’t?” he asked wounded.
“I’m sorry but it’s all just too techy for me sometimes,” she said apologetically.
“Yeah but these things would be really cool. They’re watches that have transmitters in them so we could talk back and forth and if I were to lose you in a crowd or something it has a tracking device and…” Sam interrupted his animated description.
“Those do sound really cool… for the Secret Service,” she snickered. “I hardly need that kind of protection.”
“Yes you do, you’re a big star,” Nathan argued.
“No I’m not.”
“So it’s another Samantha Clark that has the number four song in America then?” he countered.
“One hit song does not a big star make,” she fired back.
“Fine, but after your album comes out today and you sell billions and billions of copies and become a big superstar, you’ll be wishing you had better security devices. You just wait. And we’re here, so you can’t argue with me,” he said sticking his tongue out as the driver stopped. Nathan quickly exited the car, making his way over to the other side where Sam sat.
“You’ll be great girl, just relax,” Jen said, giving her friend a reassuring smile as the door opened.
“Easier said than done,” Sam said under her breath, Nathan holding her hand as she stepped from the car.
A lump swelled her throat as she stared up at the familiar building before her. Glancing around she noticed that there was already more than a few people gathered on the sidewalks, which surprised her, given the barely afternoon hour. As the foursome began walking to the entrance, Nathan spotted a couple of young women approaching.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked. Sam shook her head quickly. “Are you okay?” he questioned looking down at her pale face.
“I’m gonna be sick,” she said softly, before turning to her friend. “Jen, can you…”
“Yeah, go,” Jen cut her off already knowing what she was about to request. “I’m sorry, Miss Clark isn’t feeling well today,” she apologized sincerely to the two girls on Sam’s behalf as Nathan rushed her inside the MTV building to the nearest bathroom.