Author's Note: Sorry for the piss poor update. I was having major computer problems and am still going through them so updates might be scattered for just a little while longer. I'll be faithfully typing just not faithfully updating. Once my laptop is fixed I'll probably have more then one chapter ready to go. Anyways I didn't see many results for this story as of yet, but I'm sure luck will look up. Read and give feedback as I'll still be able to receive those even if my laptop is being a little bitch. Anyways onto the story, Never let your imagination die, CrazyMary01

Chapter 2 -Can't Pin It

"Make yourself at home." I swept my hand forward indicating that he was welcome to step further into my tiny apartment. I began to loosen my tie as he walked past me. "There are Jell-O shots in the fridge if you wanted a drink." I call out. I hear no response as I hang up my tie. A few more moments of silence go by. I walk into the living room and see James holds my favorite guitar in his hands. When most people so much as look at her it tends to make me nervous, but for some reason, I'm not as uneasy when it's James who's holding it.

"You play?" He asks looking at me. I give a small smile.

"Yeah I've been playing since I was eight. I haven't been practicing much sense I started working for Scott. I'm probably pretty rusty by now."

"When's the last time you played?" In truth I couldn't remember the last time I'd strummed a good chord out of her. Aside from the once a day tuning I insist on.

"A while ago, like I said these days I'm so busy, and music has become more of a hobby than anything,"

"I'll have to hear you sometime."

"Sure" It made me a little uneasy to talk about future meetings, when this was strictly something I was doing upon my employers demand. I scratch the back of my neck awkwardly searching for conversation. "Do you play at all?"

"Don't I wish?" He laughed. "But I've always wanted to learn. I've always loved music, and the fine arts,"

"So what are you doing with your life then?" He looked at me like a deer in the headlights the second the words left my mouth. His eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, and then closed it again.

"What flavor are your Jell-O shots?" I guess this was another issue I couldn't press. At least not yet.

"Cherry, I made them with rum,"

"Sounds amazing." He followed me to the kitchen, and I pulled the tray from the fridge.

"So why exactly did you make sixteen Jell-O shots? Failed party or something?"

"Can't a guy just want to drink alone?" I laugh.

"Nobody likes drinking alone." He argues. I shrugged because in truth I didn't mind so much, So long as I had the right drink in my cup.

"Well I'm not drinking them alone, now am I?" I hand him one just to further prove my point,

"I suppose not." We clink our glasses together and down the fruity drinks seconds later. I offer him another, and he shakes his head, "I'm driving later."

"Are two Jell-O shots really going to affect you so much that you can't drive?"

"I'm going to be one hundred percent honest; I don't hold my liquor very well."

"A lightweight. I'm going to have to get you wasted sometime in the near future. Lightweight drunks are the best drunks. It suddenly dawned on me that was the second time that we talked about another meeting, and we hadn't even spent fifteen minutes together. The uneasy feeling returned, but I would worry about it later. Just because my boss assigned this to me, it doesn't mean that I can't make a friend out of the deal. A sexy friend at that. Crap I was checking him out again wasn't I. To distract my eyes I pulled another shot of the tray and downed it before placing them back in the fridge. "Come on, living room is this way."

We plopped down on my couch, and another awkward silence follows. My eyes begin to travel over his physique once again and I wish I could help myself, really I do.

"Are you going to put "Breaking Bad" in?"

"What?" I say quickly pulled out of my daze at the sound of his voice. He points to the T.V and I blush. Why am I making such a fool of myself? "Oh right sorry. I'll be right back it's in my bedroom." I walk away shaking off the thoughts of James' body. Something had to be wrong with me. I hadn't even known the guy for an hour and I was already perving. I had hoped he didn't notice. The last thing I needed was James to think I was hitting on him. Or worse, I didn't need him to like me hitting on him.

I returned from my bedroom with the D.V.D in my hand. As I'm setting up the D.V.D player we are silent, and it's the first silence between us that hasn't been awkward. At least for me it is.

"So have you always lived in Kansas?" I ask as I hook the chords into the back of the T.V

"No actually, I moved here from London." I stand up, and suddenly realize his facial features have shifted, and he looks ten times more stressed than one should.

"Were you born there?" I want to face palm again. Obviously he wasn't born there, no accent and with the last name being Maslow, yeah definitely not British.

"No I was born in San Francisco." And so the small talk continued. I never got full stories out of him. The answers he gave for everything were short and narrow, and suddenly I realized that's how he's been answering me this whole afternoon. It was beginning to frustrate me. I pressed what I could though it never really got me much.

"What made you move from London?" I ask going to back to the topic of origin.

"Just needed a new start."

"For what?"

"Just because" That was the only answer I got on the subject despite my prying. "I'm starving." he says, and I guess that's my queue to shut up.

"Why don't I order that Thai."

"Sounds great." His mood shifts again and suddenly he's the upbeat happy James he was before we brought up his hometown, or towns I guess in this case. I shake my head of the confusing thoughts swirling my mind. I guess he would save his back story for another day. I order our food from the Thai place a few blocks up from here. Thank god they deliver. I plopped down next to James after I hung up the phone,

"Food is on the way, should be about thirty minutes."

"Sounds good." Anymore small answers from this guy and I was going to snap.

"So have you always lived in Kansas?"

"Well for the majority. I was born here, I mean I lived in Vegas for a while because I went to college in Nevada, but other than that I've always been here."

"Ever thought about moving away for good."

"Not really, I mean Kansas City isn't so bad, and my mom lives about 45 minutes away from here, and that's really nice. I'm able to travel back home when I want to and don't even really have to worry about Gas prices when it comes down to wanting to go."

"How often do you go back home."

"About as often as I play my guitar." I chuckle a little because God only knows how long that's been. "It's another thing that happened upon getting this job. It takes up a lot of my free time. No offence but your friend is kind of a dick when it comes to how he treats his assistants."

"It's complicated." James whispers. And the small input makes me angry. Being a decent human being was complicated?

"What for him to be a pervert?"

"Not for him to be pervert. The reason he is a pervert. It's complicated."

"Everyone goes through tough shit, it doesn't make it right."

"And you've been nothing but compliant. What does that make you?" I gasp. I wasn't expecting those words from him. I wanted to cry, because God and everyone knew it was true.

"It's-"

"Complicated." He finishes my sentence. "I get it, but hey maybe there's more in his picture too." I shake my head. I suppose I should've expected that he would stick up for his friend.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bash your friend so bad."

"Please Scott is hardly my friend. He's more of an alliance."

"What do you mean?"

"It's complicated. To make long stories short we have history. I got fucked over, he got fucked over by the same thing, and now we're just in a truce of sorts."

"You say that like the truce was forced."

"So how long did you say the food was going to be?" I want to scream. That had to of been the most information that I'd gotten out of him all day. And now he was just going to change the topic. I was ready to ask him what gives then realized how silly that sounded. The guy had just met me, and I wasn't even someone he had met on his own. He didn't owe me his life story.

"We got about twenty minutes left." I hit play on the D.V.D remote realizing we had forgotten about the show we were going to watch, and as the first episode played across the screen I let my thoughts travel to the secret James seems to bottle up. Sadly no conclusions crossed my mind.