**Brian's POV**

"Wha... what do you mean you're not in Spain?" Cynthia asked. "Ibeeza is in Spain, right?"

"It's pronounced ‘I-bee-tha,'" I corrected. "And yes, Ibiza is in Spain, but I'm not."

"Then where the fuck are you, Brian?" she demanded.

I sighed and said, "I'll tell you, but I swear Cynthia, if you repeat this to anyone, I'll fire your ass."

"Okay, okay! I promise," she said. "You know you can trust me."

She was right. Cynthia had been my personal assistant since I had started working for my first boss, Marty Ryder, when we were both fresh out of college twelve years before. She could write a tell-all book with all the dirt she has on me, but I have never once heard of her ever uttering a word of my transgressions at the water cooler. The woman could have had a successful career as a CIA agent, if she had wanted to.

"Alright," I began. "I'm not on vacation. I am at a rehab facility in Manhattan. The program ends Sunday the Nineteenth, and I'll be on the red-eye back home that evening."

After several seconds of silence, Cynthia said, "Oh."

I waited a bit to see if she had anything else to say. "That's it?" I asked. "Just oh?"

Cynthia chuckled. "I can't say that I'm surprised, Brian. What with your drinking and the drugs-"

"Not for drinking or drugs. For sex addiction."

Another chuckle. Yeah, I'm a fucking riot... "Well, no matter, I'm just glad that you're getting some help for at least one of your vices. It will be a nicer workplace without call boys traipsing through the lobby three, four days per week. But, that doesn't help our problem with the Carter account."

I sighed and said, "You're just going to have to solve it without me."

"How?" she asked. "We have four days to find someone to replace Trevor. It's not like I have the phone numbers for talent agents in my Rolodex!"

An idea popped into my head. "Let me call you back, Cyn. It may not be on this number, because we're only allowed to have our cell phones for two hours in the evenings."

Cynthia gasped. "Wow Brian, you're actually following someone else's rules?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes... bitch," I said playfully. "I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

I sat my cell on the dresser to continue charging and walked down the hall to the Commons Room, where all of my co-group members were sitting around the TV watching Wolf Blitzer's news show on CNN. I wasn't surprised to see that the top story for the newscast was Trevor Johnson's arrest and the raid on the brothel in LA.

I stood next to the couch that Emmett, Julie, and Ginger were sharing and watched the news footage for a few minutes. I suppressed a groan when a shot of Trevor being led into a police car in handcuffs was shown. At the same time, Wolf announced that Trevor's manager had posted his $500,000 bail a couple hours before, and Trevor was now thought to be hiding out at his beach house.

"What a fucking dumbass," The Ram said. "That guy could bang any actress in Hollywood, and he pays to fuck some hooker."

"Hey, Hugh Grant was dating Elizabeth Hurley when he got caught with Divine Brown," Freddie the Geek pointed out.

"Yeah, and he was a fucking dumbass, too," Ram said. "Elizabeth Hurley is a fox."

"And dumb enough to forgive him for it. They dated for a few more years after that," Julie said.

Emmett scoffed and said, "Women are idiots." Surprisingly, the three women in the room nodded.  

I looked over at Emmett and asked him, "Could I speak to you in the dining room?"

He and his two sidekicks exchanged looks of confusion, shrugged in unison, and Emmett got up to follow me to the elevator.

**Justin's POV**

I pulled up to the curb in front of Hobbs's apartment building in the West Village and shifted into park.

"Thanks again for driving me home," Hobbs said as he unhooked his seatbelt.

"No problem," I said. "It's not too far from my place. If you'd like to save some money on train fair, I can give you a ride to and from work."

"Oh no, that's okay," he said, suddenly looking a bit apprehensive in the late-evening sunlight. "I don't mind taking the train."

I shrugged and said, "Well, if you change your mind, just let me know."

He looked over at me and smiled. "Thanks... uh, would you like to come up for a drink or something? My roommates both work in the evening, so..."

I scrunched up my face in confusion. "You said you didn't drink anymore, since going to rehab; you ordered an iced tea at the sports bar."

He chuckled nervously. "I know, but the guys I live with always keep beer in the fridge, if you'd like one."

"Uh... no," I said. "I had a beer with dinner, and I don't usually drink much anyway, unless I have a designated driver. Besides, Daphne should be home from her date by now, and she'll probably want to complain to me about it and how she'll probably never find a man." Not to mention that we had already spent almost two uncomfortable hours together, anyway. Why the hell would he want me to come up to his apartment?

I could swear that Hobbs looked disappointed. "Okay... that's cool." And it almost seemed as if he was hesitant to leave my car.

I placed my hand on the gear shift, indicating that I was ready to get out of there. "Alright, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at work, then."

"Yeah." He looked both ways out of the car windows, and before I knew what was happening, grabbed me by the back of my neck, yanked me across the center console, and crushed his mouth against mine. I opened my mouth to protest and felt him slip his tongue inside.

"What the fuck?" I yelled after shoving him off of me a moment later.

He stared at me for a few beats, his eyes and mouth opened wide in shock. "I... I'm sorry."

I looked straight out the windshield, trying to think of something to say, when he opened the passenger side door and slammed it behind him. I watched as he sprinted up the stairs and let himself into his apartment building.

**Brian's POV**

"I really appreciate this, Carol. You're a doll," Emmett said into his cell phone to his agent. "I'll talk to you later, Hon. Bye-bye." He ended the call and said, "Alrighty, she's going to make some phone calls in the morning."

I was so happy I could almost kiss him... almost, but not quite. "Thank you, Em," I said, feeling the weight lift off my shoulders.

"Well, luckily the agency that Carol works for represents lots of actors, singers, and athletes, so she should be able to find someone willing to sign on to replace Trevor." Emmett sighed and said, "Too bad I'm not known outside of the theater world, otherwise I'd love do it."

I placed my hand on his arm and said, "Unfortunately, Ronald Carter would never let a fag model his clothes. I was lucky that he hired me to market his clothes."

He smiled and said, "In that case, I'm sure he doesn't design club clothes or stage costumes, so never mind."

**Justin's POV**

I was in my bedroom working on a sketch when I heard Daphne unlock our front door. "Yoo-hoo!" she called out. From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she had been drinking. She must have taken a taxi, since her car was parked in its usual spot when I had gotten home.

A moment later, she appeared in my doorway in her Little Black Dress. "'ello darling," she slurred in a British accent.

I gave her a small smile and asked, "Was the guy such a dweeb that you had to liquor yourself up?"

"God yes," she groaned as she plopped herself down at the foot of my bed. "He still lives with his parents and works on the Geek Squad at Best Buy. And all he would talk about was the new Star Wars movie, which I told him I had not seen, so he proceeded to tell me about the whole fucking thing. I swear I have to stop going on blind dates. Besides, it seems that all the good guys are taken... or gay."

Instead of commenting, I continued to work on my sketch. "What's wrong?" she asked me as she sat up to take off her strappy heels.

"Nothing," I said in a dull tone.

"Bullshit. What happened?"

I signed and said, "I don't want to talk about it."

After removing her second shoe and dropping it onto the floor, she crawled over to me and took a look at what I was drawing. "Who's that?" she asked about the half-done portrait. "The famous Brian?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but he's not my only problem."

"Again, what happened?" she asked, breathing booze fumes in my face. I guessed that she had a few strawberry daiquiris before coming home.

"Although I can't tell you about our session, I can tell you that it got pretty intense today."

She snorted and said, "Who the fuck would I repeat anything you told me to? I'm an aspiring dentist, not a hair dresser."

"I know," I said. "But I've already broken the cardinal rule about falling in love with a patient, so I should try to obey the others."

She gasped and squealed, "You're in love with him?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. "I'm afraid so. Although I lied to him today and told him that he was just another patient to me and that he shouldn't flatter himself. He then told me that since he's a sex addict, I shouldn't be flattered about the attention he's given me the past few days. I don't know if it's that simple, though."

"Hmm. Well, what's your other problem?" she asked as she leaned her head on my shoulder. I imagined that I would end up having to carry her drunk ass to her bed in the next ten minutes. Rum never fails to knock her out.

"Hobbs."

"Now what?" she asked in a groggy voice.

Knowing that Daph was fading fast, I chose to not go into details. I laid my sketch pad and pencil down on my nightstand and said, "I'm still trying to figure that one out myself."

Daph snuggled against my side and began to snore lightly about a minute later.