Fenny looked up at the TV. The movie was nothing short of D-grade, with more dick jokes and half-naked women than you could shake a stick at. She wasn’t bothered though; she was up there, on cloud nine with the best of them. Fenny hadn’t felt so wonderfully warm and fuzzy in a long time. Everything felt almost perfect, and it would have been if she weren’t involved. But Fenny chose not to dwell on Ritza. There were better things to think about. Like being lathered up in strawberry smelling shower gel with Brad. She was so caught up in the thought that when there was a knock at the door she dropped her sketchpad.

“Good evening, I’m hung like a donkey,” Greg mused, lolling against the doorframe.

“You’re drunk,” Fenny scorned unintentionally.

“Yup, and enjoying every bloody moment of it,” Greg cackled.

“You’re also soaking wet,” Fenny sighed.

“It’s raining…did you know? Big wet splotches. They make everything wet, the cars, the trees, the hobo I saw in the gutter,” Greg said matter-of-factly as he brushed past Fenny into her hotel room.

“Just come on in, why don’t you?” Fenny mumbled.

“I’ve had the most fucked up day, so I thought I’d try and forget it,” Greg announced as he slumped on the bed.

“Mine was going exceptionally well, until now,” Fenny huffed.

“Oh, did I disturb something? Is Brad here?” Greg asked, getting back to his feet.

“No, no he’s not,” Fenny replied.

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s all tied up with the psycho anyway,” Greg shrugged.

“Thanks, but I don’t happen to think it’s any of your business,” Fenny grumbled, getting impatient.

“Oh fuck it, now I’m upsetting you,” Greg huffed like a child.

“You’re not upsetting me. I was busy, that’s all,” Fenny sighed. She wandered over and brushed some of the raindrops off of Greg’s glasses.

“We used to have fun,” Greg said miserably.

“We used to have rampant, animal sex,” Fenny mused, helping Greg out of his jacket.

“Exactly. And it was fun,” Greg smiled. “Do you remember the first time? My god, talk about…”

“Do we really have to talk about this now?” Fenny scorned as she turned to drape Greg’s jacket over a chair.

“If you’re worried about Brad, don’t be, you don’t need him,” Greg said running a hand through his hair.

“No? You’d know, would you?” Fenny scorned.

“Yeah, why bother with him? He doesn’t treat you right. He’s attached to that Aussie whore. He’s not good enough for you. You’ve got me,” Greg cooed. “I’m good enough for you.”

Fenny looked at him, shocked. Sure, she could remember the finer details of their sexual encounters. But he was, after all, married, besotted with Gina, and pissed drunk.

“Come on, you remember how good it was,” Greg mused, moving closer to Fenny.

“That’s hardly the point,” Fenny gasped.

“Then what is?” Greg asked as he slid his hands around her waist.

“Whatever we had is over,” Fenny breathed as Greg’s hands glided up her back.

“Are you sure?” he asked, kissing her neck.

Fenny instinctively ran her fingers through his hair. “This is so wrong,” she mumbled.

Gina had decided that she had to at least apologize for not turning up to lunch the previous day. She knew Fenny had been calling her, but she just couldn’t answer the phone.

She wandered up to Fenny’s hotel room, took a deep breath and knocked. It was several moments before Fenny appeared. She’d obviously hurriedly pulled on some clothes.

“Gina,” she gasped.

“Hi. I want to apologize for yesterday,” Gina said shyly.

“Sure, you’re forgiven,” Fenny rushed, looking nervously back into the room.

“Is Brad in there?” Gina smiled wryly.

“Um, well,” Fenny babbled.

“Oh, stop flapping,” Gina laughed and pushed Fenny aside.

“Oh, crap,” Fenny mumbled under her breath.

The moment Gina stepped through the door, Greg stepped out of the bedroom. They looked at each other for a moment in silence.

“Gina, I can…” Greg started.

Gina turned venomously to Fenny. “Some friend you turned out to be.”

“Gina, it’s not what you think,” Fenny pleaded.

“No, really? There’s a better explanation for Greg appearing half naked from your bedroom, huh?” Gina hissed.

“I was drunk,” Greg said weakly.

“Oh, and that makes it all right?” Gina spat. “She wasn’t fucking drunk,” she added, glaring at Fenny.

“Gina, I’m so, so sorry,” Fenny apologized.

Gina gave up trying to say anything else and dashed from the room.

“This is your fault,” Fenny spat at Greg before she raced out after Gina. She caught her in the lobby,

“Get away from me,” Gina hissed.

“I promise you, it’s not what you think, I fucked up,” Fenny begged.

“What do you want me to say, Fen? Oh that’s ok, shit happens?” Gina snapped.

“Christ, you’re not even dating him,” Fenny said, then wished she hadn’t.

Gina, who was desperately trying not to cry tears of rage, took several deep breaths. “Yeah, well your precious Brad isn’t going to be yours for much longer. He’s engaged to Ritza.”

“That’s bullshit,” Fenny snapped.

“You think? Look at the ring on her finger,” Gina spat.

Fenny was stunned. That was not something she was expecting to hear, and she knew Gina wasn’t lying. Gina turned and headed toward the door.

“He loves you, you know,” Fenny piped up.

“Yeah, well he’s got a funny way of showing it,” Gina hissed.

“So has Brad,” Fenny mumbled as she watched Gina leave.