The Nick Jonas Protection Program

The fourth day into her two-week planning time saw Jenna stretched out across her sofa, delving into the lives of the Jonas family. After memorising their likes and dislikes and the past four years of their life on the road, she'd taken to studying the other members of their tight-knit clique.

Gregory Garbowsky. She read, studying his picture. The man was good looking, no doubt about that and his eyes seemed to gleam in this particular 3x8 photograph of him. On the reverse of the photograph his details were printed. His last address, his car tax and revenue and contact details including his cell number. She moved on to the next party members, two men named John when an idea struck her. Quickly weighing the pros and cons silently and deftly in her mind, she grabbed her new cell phone and punched in Garbowsky's private cell number before typing her message.

Before hitting send, she scanned the message again for any major errors.

Hey Ell it's MJ. I have a BIG problem can you come over? ASAP. Love MJ xx

Hitting the send button, Jenna placed the phone back on the table and waited for a response. If her information was correct, which she was ninety-nine percent sure of, the band would be travelling on the road to Chicago. And, doing the math, Gregory Garbowsky should very well be awake.

The cell phone vibrated.

"Hook, line and..." she trailed off, seeing Garbowsky's familiar number be the sender of this message, and smiled to herself.

Sorry I think you got the wrong number. I'm not Ell, sorry :)

"Polite boy," she murmured, contemplating her next move.

Oh I'm so sorry!She wrote, pushing the appropriate keys. I'm always doing this. Jeez, I'm such an idiot. What to write next? Again, sorry! She hit the send button and waited and, before she had time to give herself a pat on the back, an SMS conversation between herself and Gregory Garbowsky was underway.

It's fine, I do it too. Are you okay? Sounded sorta frantic in the other message. And it's Greg.

I'm MJ or well, Mary-Jane. No Spiderman references please. Witty, charming almost. Jenna grinned to herself. And I think I'll be okay thanks for asking.

You're sure? Anything I can help you with?

Not unless you're in the DC area and can get rid of the biggest spider in the history of spiders that's living in my shower?

As Peter Parker's love shouldn't you tolerate spiders? 8)

So not the time for jokes. It will probably kill me in my sleep. And then what will I do, huh?

Love to help but I'm all the way in Chicago right now.

Jenna grinned to herself. "And the information never lies." She said, thinking of a reply. She needed it to be something friendly and witty. Something that would keep Garbowsky's attention.

Oh well you suck. Sure you can't take a break from whatever the hell you're doing and kill this three foot spider?

No can do, MJ. Where's Parker when you need him? ;)

Ha ha. I wish. It's just little old me and the spider the size of a truck. If I stop texting it's because the thing's eaten me alive.

Well I'll have to just keep checking on you to make sure you're alive then, won't I?

Jenna licked her lips and almost laughed to herself. "Sinker," she finished the saying, knowing that she had Garbowsky's full attention. Boys were so easy to play, despite the fact that he was five years her senior. At age twenty-three this bassist should've known better. What if she was some crazed fan wanting access to the pop trio? Or some undercover agent wanting to gain access to Nick Jonas's nearest and dearest?

Now that that's over, She thought, grabbing her landline phone, celebration time. And with nimble fingers, she dialled the Chinese take-out place and ordered her usual set meal for one.