Fenny looked at her watch for the fifth time that morning. She hated being so anal, but it was hard not be when Brad spent time in Montana. She’d gone a couple of times, but the truth was, Fenny hated Montana. In fact, she hated Brad’s house in Montana too, and Ritza and her offspring living in Brad’s house in Montana. Not to mention the always playboy bunny-like Ella, her obnoxious, leering husband Pete, and the elderly neighbours who always seemed to be peering out of the curtains every time Fenny wandered into the yard to see Mochrie. Mochrie was one of the two reasons Fenny would even consider going. The dog was an absolute nutter and proved Fenny’s belief that pets are like their owners. The only other decent thing about Montana was Lilly. She was a beautiful, inquisitive kid who was not only the spitting image of her father, but also loved nothing more than sitting on the kitchen floor and going mad with paint and glitter. This one quirk was something Fenny took sole responsibility for, as her mother couldn’t paint by numbers, and Brad struggled to finger paint.

This time however, Fenny hadn’t been able to go, and had spent her time hunched over the glowing screen of her computer trying to design a poster for yet another b-grade movie. She had, however, spent most of her time fretting unbelievably about Brad and having vivid daydreams that he was sprawled in a jacuzzi with Ritza and Ella in string bikinis snuggled either side of him. (This was absurd of course, as no one in that part of Montana had a jacuzzi).

Fenny checked her watch again; he’d be home any second after what had felt like the longest week of her life. She nervously stroked Jaguar’s back and he opened an eye in a way that suggested he knew she was only pretending to care. Fenny flicked the television on and tried to ingest some of the god-awful talk show that was on, something about women who were near breakdowns because their husbands were having internet affairs. She was listening to one woman sob about how her husband kept talking to someone with the screen name “big_titted_girl_from_idaho” when the key clicked in the lock. Fenny tried her best to look interested in the television as Brad dropped his bag and wandered over to where she was sitting on the couch. He sunk down beside her and smiled.

“Not the internet addict husbands again,” he announced.

“Hey, the woman in the skin-tight, green velour dress at the end, her husband ran off with a large Greek woman from Indiana called Marika,” Fenny chided.

“I’d never run off with a large Greek woman that I met in a chatroom,” Brad cooed. “Not in that shade of green anyway.”

Fenny giggled. “How was Lil?”

“Driving Ella insane. She refuses to even pretend to like Pete. She now calls him butthead,” Brad mused, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Did you teach her to say that?”

“Maybe,” he sniggered. “And Mochrie has taken to trying to kill that weird old couple’s cat.”

“I hope she succeeds.”

“This from a cat lover.”

“It’s more a desperate need to upset the elderly.”

“Since when were you so evil?”

“Since I spent a week trying to find the artistic merit in Amazons of the Wild West.”

“Never mind,” he soothed. “I’ll ease some of that tension.” He lifted his head to place several soft kisses on her neck, making her shiver.

“I got an email from Paul,” Fenny announced as she let one of her hands slide through his hair.

“Yeah, how’s he doing?” Brad asked, moving to nibble her earlobe.

“I get the impression he’d been drinking as there was about a page of how much he was missing Gina.”

“You can tell the difference between him drunk and sober?”

“Sometimes. Oh, and he’s in Edinburgh performing GUD.”

“God help the Scots,” he mused, a hand creeping up her thigh.

“And Gina called me. She’s been asked to cover Edinburgh again.”

Brad stopped kissing Fenny and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “They’re not going to run into each other, they couldn’t possibly.”

“If two people are going to run into each other…”

“…It’ll be them,” he finished. “Shall I prepare for a huge phone bill consisting of ten thousand calls to and from Scotland?”

“I hope not,” Fenny laughed as they let their lips slowly creep toward each other.

Her body tingled as she enjoyed her first kiss in a week. She would have enjoyed a lot more had Jenna not marched into the room and declared unashamedly, “Ew, can you not do that for like five seconds and help me decide which nail varnish I should wear for my date tonight?”

Gina stepped out from the tiny theatre into a busting Edinburgh night. A cool breeze had whipped up and blew her hair across her face. She’d just seen the most terrible comedy act and had no idea how she was going to describe it. “The biggest load of shit ever devised by immature and puerile minds” would probably not go down well.

“Well, how was it?” Danny asked, appearing from another venue that was right next door.

“Shit house,” Gina replied bluntly and turned back to the street. She’d returned to London in some vain attempt to forget Paul and everything else, but instead she found herself a lonely, miserable, insomniac who spent most of her spare time sobbing at slushy movies and reading over the emails Paul sent when he was highly intoxicated. Gina may very well have gone home had Danny not turned up after deciding to return to journalism. They had grown even closer as friends and although they never spoke about it, it was obvious the closeness was spurned from the hurt they were both suffering.

“I could go a pint,” Danny announced, sidling up to her.

“Yours that bad, huh?” Gina teased as they headed to the nearest pub.

“I don’t know, I walked out halfway through.”

“Maybe they were friends with my lot,” Gina chided as Danny held open the pub door. The pub was crowded and they managed to find an empty booth in the far corner.

“Who’s buying the first round then?” Danny asked.

“I’ll go, they’ll probably serve me quicker,” Gina replied with a wink and squeezed through the crowd and over to the bar. She stopped when she couldn’t go any further and studied a team picture of the local football team as she waited. Her attention was quickly redirected as she heard an “Oh fuck” and a cool liquid seeped through her shirt.

“Fucking idiot,” Gina spat before looking at the culprit. She froze instantly. There with one half-empty pint glass and a look of shock on his face was Paul.

“Genie,” he gasped.

“It’s Gina,” she spat. “You fucking soaked me.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” he babbled, shoving his glass back on the bar and grabbing a dry beer mat to pat her dry.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Paul looked at where he was trying to pat her dry, his hands precariously over her breasts. “Shit, sorry…I’ve been drinking,” he muttered, passing her the bar mat. Gina let out a huff and squeezed her way back through the crowds to Danny who looked at her surprised.

“What happened?” he gasped.

“Fucking moron spilled beer on me?” she spat.

“What fucking moron?”

“Genie,” Paul called as he pushed his way through the crowds.

“That fucking moron,” Gina huffed.

“Genie, can we talk?” Paul gasped as he sidled up beside her.

“It’s GINA and you are the last person I want to talk to,” she scorned as she dabbed the beer on her shirt.

“Please, let me explain about Freya…”

Gina stopped dabbing and looked at him. His eyes were pleading and that was nearly enough to break her resolve.

“Please,” he said again.

Gina was about to let him speak when her fists instantly clenched. A familiar figure strode over the group.

“Pauly, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Freya perked.

Paul closed his eyes and looked like he was about to throttle her with a bar mat. “Fuck off,” he mouthed to no one.

“I have to go,” Gina announced. “Sorry Dan,” she added, squeezing his shoulder as she left.

Paul turned to glare at Freya. “Why won’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” he spat and then hurried toward the door.

“Looks like I’m getting my own drink then,” Danny muttered as he got to his feet and left Freya standing there like a sulking teenager.

When Brad emerged from the shower, Jenna was painting Fenny’s nails in an attempt to get another look at the three shades she’d whittled it down to.

“I like that one,” Brad declared picking up a bottle of a varnish that was apparently ‘late autumn blossom’ colour.

“I think you have great taste,” Jenna perked. “It’ll match my new shoes.”

“Are you sure? You should go and check just in case,” Brad nodded.

“You’re so right,” Jenna gasped and sprang to her feet. “I’ll call round later, Fen,” she added and flew out the door. Brad hurried after her and made sure the door was firmly locked.

“You know,” Fenny mused as she got to her feet, “you could have at least put some pants on before rejoining us.”

“I was hoping to not even need the towel,” Brad said with a wry smile as he pulled Fenny into his arms. As they fell into a kiss, Fenny let her fingers glide down his body and undo the towel, which fell to his feet.

“Remind me never to leave you for a week again,” he breathed as she started to back him toward the couch and remove her t-shirt at the same time. They were almost to the couch when the phone started to ring loudly.

“Don’t answer it,” he begged.

“I have to, might be important,” she panted as she pulled away to grab the phone. He was disinterested in the phone call and continued with the removal of Fenny’s jeans and then pulled her onto the couch as she tried desperately to keep her voice steady. He trailed kisses over her stomach and made her squeak.

“What? No Mom, I stood on one of Jag’s toys,” Fenny grinned as Brad started nipping her neck. “I really, really have to go. Why? Something’s come up…” Even as she said it, she knew it was wrong, and Brad buried his face in her shoulder to giggle. Fenny hung up the phone and let out the cackle of laughter that had been building up throughout the phone call.

“What did Mom want?” Brad asked, looking at her a moment.

“We’ve been invited to dinner. I’m going to assume my father has bought a new toy he wants to show off.”

“We’re going then?”

“Begrudgingly so. I mean we have avoided the last five invitations they’ve given. If I give them one they might leave us alone for a while.”

“Sounds fair,” Brad agreed. “Now, back to the matter at hand,” he added and brought his lips to hers and the familiar computer ‘ping’ noise resonated from the study.

“You’ve got mail,” Brad groaned as Fenny moved from underneath him to go and check.

Gina marched back toward the hotel. She’d been ready to talk, well, ready to give in and smother him in kisses, and then Freya had appeared and her mood had gone back to wanting to attack Paul with a pickaxe.

“GINA,” Paul yelled as he jogged to catch up with her. He was nearly there when a man stopped him.

“Paul, I love you man, can I have your autograph?” babbled the man.

“Hold that thought,” Paul begged and pushed past him to catch up to Gina who was about to cross Princess Street. “Christ you move fast.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Gina spat as she stepped forward to cross the road.

“Tough shit, I want to talk to you,” Paul scorned, grabbing her arm. She glared at him. “Freya did not come here with me. I’ve avoided her all I can since…since that day.”

“What do you want, a fucking medal,” Gina snapped, crossing her arms.

“I want you to believe me. It’s not hard to find out where I’m going, you of all people should know that.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I said I didn’t care,” she spat as she crossed the road. He followed, determined to get her to talk. He wasn’t going to give up.

“Can’t we just sit down and talk?”

“We’re not even bloody married anymore,” Gina barked.

“Actually we are, I never signed the papers,” Paul barked back. “And if you haven’t forgotten, we renewed our vows, therefore we’d need to be divorced twice.”

“I wish to god we were,” she grumbled.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?” Gina demanded as she stopped. “You have no idea how much it hurt when I had to stand there and watch you and that…”

“And I told you she tried to molest me,” Paul growled, then let out a heavy sigh. “For fucks sake, I love you Genie. What do you want me to do? Get on my knees and sing ‘The Loved One’? Because I will.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Gina breathed and started to walk again. Paul dropped to his knees on the pavement and started to belt out the words to INXS’s ‘The Loved One.’ “Oh baby I love you so, I want you back, I can’t go on…”

Gina stopped and turned back around. “Stop it,” she sighed.

“Oh baby I love you so, I need you back….”

“Paul,” Gina mused as people stopped to look at what was going on. She marched over and put her hand over his mouth. “If you shut up, we can talk,” when she removed her hand he was smiling.

“Thank god for that, I can’t remember all the words,” Paul mused as he got to his feet.

“In the morning,” Gina added with a wry smile.

“Why the morning?”

“Well, I have to write up a review and try and get the stench of beer off my breasts.”

“Well I’m not busy…” he chided.

“I think you should go before I change my mind.”

“Right,” Paul agreed. Shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to leave, he quickly turned back. “What if I’m not functional in the morning?”

“You’ll be functional,” he breathed.

“Right and what time were you thinking of?”

“Breakfast.”

“Ok,” Paul nodded and turned again and then turned back. “Oh and Genie?”

“Yes Pauly,” she countered. He leaned forward and planted a light kiss on her cheek. Gina tingled and had to fight a smile.

“Think of me while you’re scrubbing your naked breasts,” he said with a grin and turned and started walking. Gina leapt forward and playfully pressed her foot against his arse making him stumble forward.

“HEY!” Paul yelped and looked at her as she giggled her way toward the hotel.

Paul couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he headed back toward the pub. He’d missed Gina so much, and to have her smiling and laughing was near perfect. He reached Princess Street and waited for the traffic to clear. A van pulled up in front of him and obstructed his view. He was feeling giddy happiness and stood back to wait. His attention was drawn suddenly to the passenger side door of the van. It flew open and Paul found himself standing face to face with a man large enough to do some serious damage. He was grabbed, a hand clamped over his mouth, and thrust into the quickly opened van. The door was slammed shut and Paul let out a few nervous breaths. Of all the things to come in threes, being kidnapped was not one he’d expected.