5 – Guilty Passions

“It’s almost in,” Paul giggled as he fumbled with his hotel room key. Eventually he managed to connect the key with the lock and open the door. He stumbled into the room, with Jenna hanging off his arm. The door closed behind them and she pulled him into a lustful kiss, her manicured fingers pulling at his shirt buttons. Paul dropped his jacket on the floor and through his drunken, horny haze ran his hands up her thighs, discovering quickly, she wasn’t actually wearing any underwear.

“I see you’re a woman of easy access,” Paul breathed.

“Baby, I wasn’t even expecting dinner,” Jenna gasped, ripping open Paul’s shirt and running her magenta painted nails down to his belt.

“Obviously,” was all he managed to reply before she engulfed him in another kiss. Any ounce of dignity Paul might have regained after those ten years on tour left him quicker than chicken curry. He tore Jenna’s dress off over her head and let his hands roam over her body. He didn’t find her particularly attractive, and her skin felt like a raw chicken. But he wanted to get laid, and he was too drunk and aroused to stop himself.


“I so give up,” Gina sighed as she wandered out of another boutique. “I look shit in everything.”

“I kinda liked the little black number,” Greg perked.

“I would have frozen my tits off,” Gina declared. “It barely covered anything.”

“That’s why I liked it,” Greg grinned.

Gina shook her head. “Men, their idea of a great outfit is one that shows off a lot of cleavage and a fair amount of thigh. Women, we like comfort and style.”

“Are you saying I don’t have style?” Greg mocked shock.

“I’ve seen you in a Hawaiian shirt.”

“That was an expensive shirt.”

“Looked bargain bin to me.”

“Hey!”

“Fine, on the bright side you made cow print sexy.”

“Thankyou.”

“But the skull shirt was so wrong.”

“It was popular at the time.”

“Where? In some small town in Uzbekistan?”

“This from a woman who thinks flares are still in, get over it babe.”

“You enjoyed ripping them off.”

“Yeah, so I didn’t have to look at them.”

“Oh, see now I’m offended,” Gina cussed crossing her arms.

“Good,” Greg smiled.

Gina looked away.

“I do like your Groovefunkistan t-shirt though,” Greg perked.

“Only because you’re on it,” Gina chided.

“Exactly, makes it extra stylish.”

“Stylish? I let my neighbour’s dog wear it for a laugh” Gina giggled.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a dog’s had me on her back,” Greg laughed. Gina shook her head and headed into another boutique.


Fenny leaned back in her chair and looked at her drawings for the poster. There was one she sort of liked, two she hated and one she totally despised. She pondered attempting another one before her meeting with Eddie, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Her heart skipped a beat, please god don’t let it be Brad. She couldn’t cope with failed romance or sex on the couch at this time of the morning. With mild reluctance she padded through the living room to the front door and was greeted by Jenna. She pushed past Fenny and waltzed into the apartment, her tiny shorts and singlet covering very little.

“Good morning Fenella,” she cooed, and slid onto the couch.

“Morning, oh yoke around my neck,” Fenny sighed and wandered over to an armchair.

“What’s with the egg talk?” Jenna said, looking confused.

“Huh, oh yoke…It’s a…Why are you here?” Fenny asked, annoyed at the disruption.

“I thought you’d you want to know about my fantastic date with Pauly last night,” Jenna perked.

“Not really,” Fenny mumbled.

“We went to a little Italian restaurant and drank like some really cool wine, and we talked about heaps of stuff. You never told me he was a now, what did he say, necrophilliac. I mean, you must need some serious skill for that.”

Fenny shook her head and had to refrain from laughing.

“Oh and he talked to me in French, like what a turn on.”

“French?” Fenny said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, he called me his facile courtesan,” Jenna gushed.

“Did he really?” Fenny mused and checked her watch. “I hate to end this scintillating conversation Jenna, but I’m really busy this morning.”

Jenna let out a sigh and got to her feet. “Fine, go back to your art, but I am so coming back. I just have to tell you about the sex.”

“Oh can’t wait,” Fenny sacred as she shuffled Jenna about the door and quickly closed it.

“Facile courtesan,” Fenny sniggered as she headed back to her study, only to be interrupted by another knock at the door. She marched back to the door and before she even had it opened Paul had pushed his way inside.

“Don’t let her see me, please god don’t let her see me,” Paul begged. Fenny noted he was in his grandpa cap and tinted sunglasses, hungover and hiding.

“I am so disgusted with you right now,” Fenny announced. “I thought you were a better person than that.”

“Unfortunately I happen to be a man and that has a habit of interfering with any sane actions,” Paul grumbled, “and you think you’re disgusted, how do you think I fucking feel?”

“Ashamed I hope,” Fenny cussed.

“I feel fucking disgusting, I showered for two hours. What was I thinking, Fen? Why did you let me go and do that?”

“Me? You’re the one who was salivating to get into her hot pink thong.”

“She wasn’t wearing a thong.”

“Paul, don’t tell me shit like that.”

“Sorry,” Paul grumbled. “God, I feel so bad, how could I do that to Genie?”

“Genie? How could you take out a woman who you don’t even like for the sole purpose of fucking her?”

“We were drunk and she was gagging for it.”

“Oh, that’s right, it’s never the guy’s fault.”

“She wasn’t wearing any underwear.”

“Neither were you by the end.”

“It was a whole sixty seconds before we both passed out.”

“Well, you’re just Mr Romance aren’t you.”

“I bought her dinner.”

“You told her you fuck dead people for a living.”

“You haven’t seen some of the audiences I’ve played to.”

“And you called her an easy hooker.”

“She thought it was romantic.”

“If I was a violent person I’d slap you.”

“Is that an offer? Speaking of slapping, how did dinner with Braddles go?”

Fenny shook her head, trying to work out how slapping led to Brad. “It went fine.”

“Fine? Like friends fine or doing it on the lino fine?”

“More like a Dawson’s Creek fine.”

“Wow, issue driven, teen drama. What happened?”

“We talked, we flirted and he kissed me.”

“Was there touching?”

“Only from him, I was a bit shocked.”

“Oh Fen, that’s letting the side down.”

“Letting the side down, you committed adultery.”

“Can we stop bringing that up?”

“Are you going to tell Gina?”

“Are you going to see Brad again?”

“I’ll see Brad if you tell Gina.”

Paul thought for a minute, fiddling with his wedding ring. “You do realise I have to leave the country now, because there’s no way I’m staying here while plastic tits is after me.”

“That’s a bit drastic don’t you…No, you’re right,” Fenny agreed.

“I’ve got stuff to do in Edinburgh anyway,” Paul shrugged.

“Britain huh, hmm and you might just run into Gina,” Fenny teased.

“It’s a possibility,” Paul mumbled. “And if I do, I’ll tell her about Jenna.”

“I don’t want to see Brad,” Fenny sighed.

“Why?” Paul asked.

“Because I know, I know I’ll give in and it’ll all end in tears. I just couldn’t go through it all again.”

“You can escape with me if you want,” Paul suggested.

“Oh yeah, I have the time to drop everything and go to Britain,” Fenny said with a short laugh. Although, it actually seemed like a brilliant idea and would give her ample opportunity not only to catch up with her best friend, but to get Paul and Gina together.

“Well the offer is there, I have a free ticket,” Paul mused. “The flight’s 2pm.”

Fenny thought for a moment. “It’s totally impossible.” She checked her watch. “Shit, I have to be at a meeting in 20 minutes.”

“Meeting?” Paul asked, following her into the study as she collected her drawings.

“With Eddie.”

“Right, in that case I’m crawling into your bed and sleeping until I have to leave for the airport,” Paul announced and yawned as he left the study and headed for Fenny’s bedroom. She didn’t have time to argue and grabbed her car keys as she dashed out of her apartment.


“Well?” Gina asked as she gingerly stepped out of the changing room cubicle.

“Man, if I wasn’t married,” Greg teased.

Gina raised an eyebrow and looked down at the knee length black skirt, with an embroidered rose to one side and hot pink trim, and plain hot pink v-neck, long sleeved top.

“It’s better than the flares,” Greg declared.

“You’re just saying that because you picked it.”

“If it’s possible you’re even more gorgeous when you’re dressed like a girl,” Greg smiled.

Gina felt herself blush a little, she’d never taken compliments well and so many in one day, after so long was killing her.

“You wear a black jacket with that and you’ll stop the room,” Greg continued.

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll just hunt something out of my closet,” Gina shrugged.

“Like hell, I’ve spent the entire day traipsing from store to store with you. You have to buy something,” Greg ordered.

“Ok, ok, keep your glasses on,” Gina chided and hurried back into the cubicle to change. She re-emerged adjusting her belt, and dumped the clothes on the counter. The second they stepped out of the boutique Gina’s phone began to ring. She fumbled in her bag until she pulled the squealing, vibrating device out and answered it.

“Hello, yeah…I’m researching, Greg Proops. Yes, what? No, no I’ve got plans? But…I…That’s…Hey! Fine…How many? 1000…How am I? That’s a bit rude Sir. Goodbye.” She chucked her phone back into the depths of her bag.


“Problems?” Greg asked.

“After all that searching for a new outfit, I can’t go to your bloody show,” Gina huffed.

“What? No, what asshole has stopped you from enjoying me?” Greg gasped.

“My editor, wants a thousand words on…Wait for it, why kitten heels are better than stilettos.”

“Oh, well there’s just a major fucking emergency. Hold the front page,” Greg grumbled.

“Looks like another lonely night in front of the computer,” Gina sighed.

“Some Dungeons and Dragons nerd would love you,” Greg breathed as he put an arm around her.

“Thanks Speccy,” Gina laughed and elbowed him as they approached a waiting taxi. “Well, it’s been fun.”

“Darn right, who would have though shopping, chocolate and the fine art of fashion would be so much fun,” Greg smiled.

“That sounds so gay,” Gina giggled.

“And I said it,” Greg chucked as he pulled Gina into a hug.

“Good luck with the show, insult someone for me.”

“Later Gina,” Greg mused and automatically kissed her forehead.

Gina felt a tingly feeling, and had the urge not to let go of him. “Later,” she managed to say as she climbed into the taxi.


Fenny arrived at the studio ten minutes late, annoyed with herself for reasons she wasn’t quite sure of. After a quick chat with the receptionist, Fenny tiptoed into the studio where they were filming. Her eyes scanned the room for Brad and found him being hounded by a make up woman.

“CUT,” Eddie yelled. “TAKE A BREAK EVERYONE.”

“Thank Christ,” Fenny mumbled, not wanting to wait any longer than she had too. She wandered over to Eddie and cleared her throat; he looked up from his notes.

“Fenella darling, got your call and decided to keep filming until you got here,” he perked. “Let’s have a look then.”

“Well I…” Before Fenny to could explain, Eddie had snatched the sketches and was studying them.

“This one,” he announced, holding up the one Fenny despised.

“Well, actually that one is…”

“Perfect, I love it. Thanks again,” Eddie smiled and turned back to his notes as Fenny grabbed the sketches. She shook the bewildered look from her face and headed back out the studio. She stopped in the corridor to readjust her folder.

“He’s not exactly Mr Charisma, is he?”

Fenny dropped her folder; her sketches scattered everywhere. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she gasped, looking up at Brad, who was sporting a tuxedo.

“Sorry, felt I should apologise for Eddie,” Brad smiled and bent down to help Fenny pick up her sketches.

“Thanks, he would pick the one I hate the most,” Fenny grumbled.

“I like this one,” Brad declared, studying one of the sketches.

Fenny looked over; it was her favorite out of the four she’d done. “I like that one, too.”

“I know you too well,” Brad grinned as he got to his feet. “You should do the one you like, Eddie has no idea, he won’t notice, I promise you.”

“I’ll think about it,” Fenny smiled, then her smile dropped and they stood awkwardly for a moment.

“Sorry if I offended you last night, when I kissed you…all that talk of chocolate sauce,” Brad breathed.

“Offended? No. Surprised? Considerably,” Fenny chided, her eyes catching his.

“It was nice, dinner I mean. Not that the kiss wasn’t nice either,” Brad flustered. “God, I feel like I’m fifteen again.”

Fenny couldn’t help but smile at his bashfulness; his vulnerability encouraged her to do something very un-Fenny-like. She stepped forward, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly on the lips. She went to pull away but his arms wrapped around her and she felt herself melting in his arms as he kissed her back.


Paul looked at the rows of magazines and newspapers; he grabbed a copy of the Weekly Word News and giggled at the “first photos” of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. He turned the page and was greeted by a story about how people in Utah were being attacked by sponges. It was the biggest load of bullshit ever printed, but it was great fuel for dinner party conversations when you want to get people to look at you with that “you need therapy” look. He decided to get the paper along with a newspaper and a trashy men’s magazine for light reading.

He moved on next to look through the duty free. He pondered alcohol, but decided his system wasn’t quite ready for that yet. He passed a shelf of perfume and stopped when he noticed a familiar bottle, Luscious, the same perfume he’d bought Gina for an anniversary present. Something dawned on him and he grabbed his mobile phone and checked the date. Their anniversary had come and gone and he’d committed adultery, all he needed now was for the plane to crash into the sea and his day would be made. Paul made the decision that he should buy something, just in case he did run into Gina, gave in and went to see her, or simply begged for forgiveness. After much deliberation he decided on a stuffed teddy bear in an “I Love America” t-shirt.

“And who might you be buying that for?”

Paul jumped a mile. “Fucking hell woman,” he cussed.

Fenny smiled at his annoyance. “You invited me.”

“Thought you were busy,” Paul grumbled.

“Yeah and then I ended up in a way too passionate embrace with Brad and realised, I too need to leave the country,” Fenny breathed.

“You went and saw him?” Paul inquired.

“Not exactly,” Fenny sighed, “he followed me into the corridor.”

“And kissed you.”

“Actually, I kissed him.”

Paul smiled wryly and raised an eyebrow.

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” Fenny whined.

“And now?”

“I’m an idiot,” Fenny declared.

“Nice to know you haven’t changed Fen,” Paul mused as the headed toward the flight lounge.

“What do you mean?” Fenny asked.

“When a problem arises, you still run away,” Paul replied.

“I’m not running, you invited me for a holiday,” she defended.

“What about your urgent work huh?”

“There’s email,” Fenny shrugged.

“No spine at all,” Paul sighed.

“Oh hello, this from a man who bought a teddy bear,” Fenny scorned.

“He’s my friend,” Paul huffed.

“As sappy as a girl,” Fenny said, crossing her arms, “and as guilty as hell.”

Paul narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think I want you to come anymore.”

“I’ll come if and when I please,” Fenny declared.

Paul’s expression went from miffed to giggling in seconds. “Thank god the flight is shorter than the one to Australia.”