An hour into the photo shoot, Fenny realised she’d spent most of her time coyly looking in Brad’s direction, and he’d unashamedly looked back. She managed to pull her eyes from him and look over at Jennifer, who was trying to get the perfect shot of Charlie and Katie.

“Move closer together,” Jennifer ordered. “With some enthusiasm please.”

Fenny shook her head. For actors, they appeared terrified of touching each other. They were supposed to be holding each other and looking longingly into each other’s eyes. They looked more like two nervous preteens who thought life was like Dawson’s Creek.

“Stop, this isn’t working,” Jennifer declared and stood away from her camera. “I’ll show you what I want,” she added and walked in front of the white background. She glanced around at the smattering of actors, looking for one who might know what he was doing. “Right. Brad, can you come here for a moment?” she asked.

“Sure,” Brad smiled and sauntered over.

“And,” Jennifer mumbled, “Fenny, would you mind?”

Fenny felt her throat close over and almost gagged. “Ok,” she nodded and walked over to where Jennifer was standing with Brad.

She looked at Brad nervously. He raised an eyebrow and looked at the ceiling to stop himself smiling.

“Great, now if you two move together,” Jennifer ordered.

Fenny and Brad edged gingerly toward each other.

“Closer,” Jennifer mused.

Brad took it upon himself to hurry things along and tentatively slid his hands onto Fenny’s waist, guiding her closer. Fenny tried not to gasp when she felt his body press against hers. That one simple move made her heart beat a thousand times faster, her stomach knotted and her hands were shaking.

“Much better, Fenny can you put your hands on his chest.”

“Yeah,” Fenny replied, trying to hide the shakiness of her voice. She placed her hands on his chest, one sat on the spot where the tattoo of her name was. Well, if he still had the tattoo.

“Brilliant, I hope you two are paying attention,” Jennifer declared, turning to Scott and Bethany. “Now, look into each others’ eyes like you’re totally and utterly in love. I want to see you ooze it.”

Fenny swallowed hard as she looked upward and stared straight into Brad’s eyes. She found herself quickly becoming lost and all the thoughts she’d tried to repress came flooding back. The one that chose to stick in her mind was the feeling of him tracing soft kisses over her neck.

Brad wasn’t quite sure how he should be feeling. Sure, he knew suggesting Fenny for the project would mean he’d have to face her sooner or later, and that wasn’t a bad thing. He missed her like crazy. No matter how far away he moved and how much he threw himself into his work, he missed her. Though, even he had to admit, standing in the middle of a crowded room with her in his arms wasn’t what he expected to happen. He wasn’t complaining though — he liked having her back in his arms after so long. The only drawback was that what he was thinking was nothing short of pornographic. Everything from her scraping her nails down his back to that special red underwear focused almost sadistically in his mind. Sadistic because (a) it was wrong that he should think such thoughts about such a beautiful, successful woman who he just happened to be posing with, and (b) he was in a crowded room and couldn’t tear her clothes off and make passionate love to her on the floor.

He looked as deeply as he could into her eyes, trying to read whatever it was she was thinking. He had a strange feeling that she was thinking much the same as he was. But women didn’t think things like that, did they? He had an urge to lean forward and kiss her. Could you imagine the actor and the artist falling into a lustful kiss in front of their peers? He knew it was the saucy Sagittarian in him, a rather long abstinence from sex, and quite frankly the entire situation was turning him on.

“That’s great guys, thanks,” Jennifer enthused.

Fenny and Brad somewhat reluctantly broke their gaze and moved apart. Brad headed for the door to get some air, and Fenny headed back to the corner she’d been standing in previously.

Gina arrived back at her flat, looked at it with disdain, and realised her previously cheerful mood was slowly disappearing. She needed a distraction and something to occupy her until the sun came up; it wasn’t like she slept much anymore. She changed into her pajamas and then took a seat in front of her computer. As she waited for it to load up, she recounted the evening’s events. God, how she’d missed laughing. Greg had made her laugh so much it hurt, and the hugs had been pretty special too. Gina let herself smile. Who was she kidding, she wasn’t alone, people cared, they were just busy. Maybe it was time to drag herself from the slump and try and enjoy life again.

She glanced over at her email and read down the list: porn, free diploma, shares, and porn. Gina began deleting them one by one until she got to the last of the emails, which was from Paul. He emailed her once a week, but she’d never responded. If she had, she knew it would just hurt more. She clicked on his highlighted name to open it.

Gina let out a giggle. She’d actually pondered hunting out the entertainment editor and pushing her over Tower Bridge earlier that day, and it never ceased to amaze her that Paul could read her mind. She automatically clicked on the “reply” button.

Fenny waited several minutes before she glanced around the room and discovered no one was watching her, so she headed out the door. She looked up and down the corridor outside the studio for Brad and didn’t see him. Fenny realised she was probably being foolish, but something urged her to keep looking. As she turned into the reception area, she found Brad slumped in a leather armchair. He was leaning forward, head in his hands.

“You ok?” she asked, approaching his miserable looking form.

Brad glanced up, looking a bit sheepish, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, sorry. Got a headache.”

“You need an aspirin?”

“I’ve had some, thanks.”

They looked at each other for a moment. Brad eventually looked away.

“Thanks for recommending me,” Fenny smiled.

“My pleasure. might as well have a good poster, the movie is shit.”

She giggled. “I’m surprised you offered to do it.”

“Favour for a friend. A drunken favour for a friend,” he sighed as she took a seat in the chair next to him.

“I can’t believe that photographer posed us together,” she mused.

“Of all the ironies,” Brad agreed. “It wasn’t so bad.”

she caught his eye and looked away again, her cheeks reddening. “No, just highly embarrassing.”

“Which part? The looking lovingly or the lewd thoughts?” Brad asked.

“Lewd thoughts? I wasn’t having lewd thoughts.”

He knew her well enough to be pretty sure she was lying, and he smiled at her. “I was.”

She felt herself blush even more. Her newly grown spine was shrinking and she felt all those familiar feelings that he stirred in her. “Dare I ask?”

“Let’s just say it involved that ‘special’ underwear.”

“You’re kidding? You so need to get over that, it’s really not very exciting.”

“Excited me,” he perked.

She shook her head and tried to fight a smile. “How’s Lilly?”

“Great, she’s walking and talking, well she runs into tables and says ‘dada’,” Brad smiled, his eyes lighting up.

“Gee, last time I saw her she just crapped a lot,” she jeered.

“She still craps a lot. Want to see a photo?”

“Yeah, why not.”

Brad reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, then pulled out a slightly crumpled picture. Fenny looked at the little girl in the picture and hardly recognised her. She was sitting on the grass, her short brown hair in pigtails and little arms were wrapped around another girl’s neck.

“Mochrie,” Fenny gasped.

“Oh yeah, no one ever came forward, so she came to Montana with me. Lilly adores her,” Brad perked.

“Did Colin ever…”

He nodded. “Quite by mistake…No one has ever let him live it down, either.”

“I can’t believe how big she is, and Lilly, she looks just like her dad,” Fenny cooed.

“Except I wouldn’t be seen dead in a Barney shirt,” Brad jeered.

Fenny giggled and handed the photo back. “And is Ella well?”

“Yes Ella’s doing good, her and her fuckwit of a fiancé Pete,” he grumbled.

“You don’t get on with Pete?”

“I don’t like him telling Lilly to call him Dad. She doesn’t, by the way, she calls him Petey,” Brad said matter-of-factly.

“I think she knows who her dad is,” Fenny breathed, catching Brad’s eyes again.

“Thanks,” Brad nodded. “Enough about me, how are you? Other than looking, well, gorgeous.”

Fenny winced unintentionally. “I’m good. Actually, I nearly got beheaded by Paul of all people. Surfing like a moron.”

“Paul’s in town?” Brad said, a curious tone to his voice.

“Yeah, he and Gina are having issues. She’s in London now apparently. They’re not coping with the whole long distance thing,” Fenny babbled.

Brad laughed. “Nice to see you haven’t changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Managing to avoid talking about yourself by babbling about someone else.”

“Sorry, force of habit.”

“Sorry? For what, I can tell just by looking at you that you’re doing just fine,” Brad smiled as he got to his feet. “Better get back to the shoot.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “How long you in LA for?”

“End of the week,” he replied as they headed back to the studio.

“Don’t suppose you want to have dinner?”

Brad stopped and looked at her a bit stunned. “Dinner? With the guy who treated you like shit? Are you going to poison me?”

“Possibly,” Fenny mused and handed Brad one of her business cards.

The next morning, Paul lay sprawled out on his hotel room bed, a bed that he’d decided he hated. It was king sized, massive, and yet he was a small man who barely took up one side. Only lovers needed king sized beds. Small, miserable men had double beds, and that was only because when you got to 40 it was a bit sad if you slept in a single. It also made it look like you never got laid. He sat up and grabbed his laptop, switched it on and connected to the internet. Paul had taken to checking his email about every two hours. Just in case someone cared. He almost fell out of bed when he saw the first email in his inbox.

Paul read the email twice, shocked that after so long she would actually reply, and reply like they had never been apart and that nothing was wrong. He laughed to himself. That was Gina to a tee. If you can laugh about it, it can’t be that bad. Paul set about eagerly replying. That one email had made his day. Not often you get that before breakfast.

“You fucking jumped up abacus,” Fenny hissed as her computer took the liberty to freeze before she’d saved. She angrily poked the reset button and leaned back in her chair. She was pondering hunting out a large blunt object to beat it with when there was a knock at the door. She hurried through the living room and swung the door open.

“Do you like croissants?” Paul asked, a baker’s bag in his hand.

“Yes, and good morning to you, too,” Fenny mused as she moved aside to let Paul in.

“Sorry, I got an email from Genie and it made me want croissants,” Paul mumbled.

“And the non-cryptic answer is…?”

“Huh? Oh, Genie and I have — had — this thing where every Sunday morning we’d sleep late and have croissants for breakfast.”

“It’s not Sunday.”

“I know, but getting an email from her triggered a craving for croissants. But then I bought them and it made me sad and I couldn’t bare to eat them now,” Paul sighed, looking despondently at the bag.

“Well, you’re lucky I haven’t had breakfast,” Fenny mused and took the bag from him. “So, tell me what Gina said?” she added as she wandered into the kitchen.

“She’s got insomnia,” he shrugged as she hunted out some plates.

“And?”

“She ran into Greg.”

“Did she now.” She raised an eyebrow.

“He’s back with his wife” Paul added, returning the raised eyebrow.

“That’s good to hear,” Fenny smiled and handed Paul a plate with a croissant on it. “Eat, I’m sure you can manage it.”

Paul took the plate and sat at the table as Fenny hunted out various foodstuffs from the fridge to put on the croissants. She was interrupted by another knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Paul offered and disappeared out of the kitchen.

He bounded to the door and opened it. Paul was greeted by Fenny’s frustrating neighbour Jenna, who was sporting skintight jeans and a top that covered little of her bulging breast implants. She looked at him approvingly.

“Hi there, is Fenny in?” she cooed.

“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen,” Paul smiled and moved aside. He hadn’t meant to check out her arse on the way past and he kicked himself for doing so.

“Fenny,” Jenna perked as she pranced into the kitchen.

“Jenna,” Fenny said with a fake smile as she placed the cheese on the table.

“Who’s the cutie?” Jenna asked in a hushed voice, glancing around to make sure Paul wasn’t about.

“Paul, and before you ask, he’s married,” Fenny sighed.

“So what’s he doing in you apartment?” Jenna asked.

“He’s a friend, his wife is my best friend.”

“Right,” Jenna teased. “So where’s his wife?”

“London.”

“Brilliant.”

“Jenna, you keep your paws off him,” Fenny warned.

“Well, Jett says we should have an open relationship, which I was reluctant about, but I’ve, ah, suddenly changed my mind,” Jenna grinned as Paul reappeared.

“Did you come here for a reason?” Fenny asked, trying to distract Jenna.

“I think God sent me, along with you,” she cooed, smiling at Paul.

Paul gave Fenny a “is this chick serious” look and then realised his mind was taking over. He hadn’t had sex in what, six months? This fake-tanned bimbette was gagging for it. Oh god, he was being a stereotypical male, that so wasn’t him. He loved Gina, he’d never cheated on her. He believed in wedding vows, he was a good Catholic. He was trying everything to repress his carnal desires, but the truth was this surgically-enhanced slapper wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples were poking at the material of her t-shirt and he was in desperate need of a cold shower.