By Your Side
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(based off of the song by Sade)
You think I’d leave your side, baby
You know me better than that
You think I’d leave you down when you’re down on your knees
I wouldn’t do that
I’ll tell you you’re right when you want
And if only you could see into me…
“You’re married to who? Mila Schumann?” The overweight man in a yellow hardhat and overalls couldn’t help but to laugh at this co-worker. “The same Mila Schumann on NBC?”
“Yes,” the younger man with the piercing blue eyes replied, angered by the mistrust of his friend.
“Mila Schumann on the show ‘In Transition’? American’s Sweetheart?”
“Barry! No matter how many times you say her name it won’t stop being true! We’ve been married for three and a half months now.”
“Stop pulling my leg here, Timberlake. Four years I’ve known you now and suddenly you come back from vacation hitched to television royalty? Give me a break!” Barry dusted off his hands on his pants, dried mud falling to the ground like snow.
Justin removed his hardhat, wiping the sweat from his head with his forearm. “I met her six months ago when my cousin got married in Mexico. She was filming an episode there and we started talking. We had a few dates and kept in touch over the phone. A month and a half later I fly out to see her on sick-leave and we tie the knot. It was quick but it had to be.”
“So why no news reports? Mila Schumann would get married with the world watching.” Barry inquired.
“She isn’t the image that you see on television. Besides, her agent doesn’t want it to be publicized. It’s a bad career move.” Justin couldn’t help but to smile. “Still not buying it?”
“Not a word. Actresses don’t marry construction workers. If you’d told me that you went to Vegas and married a stripper I would have believed you.”
“Alright,” Justin reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Barry chuckled to himself as his young friend flipped though credit cards, receipts, and photos of family. “Check this out.”
Barry took the wallet into his hands and began scanning the pictures. A family photo, brothers, friend from high school, Mila Schumann, Barry’s kids -- Barry paused for a moment but decided against flipping back. It could have been an internet photo that had been downloaded. Last picture, Mila Schumann with none other than his bosom buddy, Justin Timberlake.
“You’re shitting me?” Barry asked, dumbfounded.
“I shit you not.” Justin smiled proudly. “She’ll be in town next month when she goes on break.”
“Timberlake?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Mila Schumann?!”
“He laughed again. “No…Mila Schumann-Timberlake.”
* * *
Oh, when you’re cold I’ll be there
Hold you tight to me…
“We have an airtight alibi.” Colleen, Mila’s agent, announced as the young woman sat down idly in her office. “If there are any leaks to the public about you marrying Jason…”
“Justin.” Mila corrected, eyeing her wedding ring. It was modest but she loved it. If she wanted a boulder on her finger she would have married someone like P. Diddy or Ben Affleck.
“Right,” Colleen forced a smile. “Justin. What does he do again?”
“Construction.”
“Like an architect or something? Mansion builder, perhaps?”
“He works for the state.” Mila winked knowing full well that the situation disturbed her agent.
“Classic, Mila. Really.” She shuffled the papers on her desk. “Just don’t go having any babies. It will be hard enough concealing the marriage.”
* * *
“Wish I could have been there, man. I could have thrown