“So how do you know Gina?” Danny asked as he shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Fenny gave a wry smile. “Well, long story short, we met through a mutual friend back in the States a few years ago.”

“So do you know her husband then, too?”

She swallowed her bacon. “Oh yeah, Paul and I are great friends. The three of us have been through a lot together. I could tell you some fascinating stories,” she grinned.

“Ooh, do tell.”

“To an ex-journalist?” she scoffed teasingly. “I think not.”

“Oh come on, I won’t tell anyone,” he pleaded.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“You’re just fucking with me, aren’t you?” Danny chuckled.

“Maybe,” Fenny said innocently, taking a delicate sip of her juice. “But come on, you knew Gina, I’m sure you’ve got some stories to tell.”

“No, I don’t want to invoke the Coleman wrath, I’ve been on the receiving end of it before.”

“Sounds like a good story in itself,” Fenny laughed. “Man, if you’ve survived Gina, Andy must be a piece of cake.”

“Nah, he’s more hot air than anything else. Oh, but that was so funny, the look on Andy’s face when he came out to the pool and found us,” he laughed. “Good thing he got there when he did, or you would’ve ended up back in the pool.”

“Pure evil,” she sighed, shaking her head and finishing the last bit of bacon on her plate.

“No, I just wanted to see you get wet again,” he smirked. “I like that look on you, translucent white shirt plastered to your skin. Very nice.”

Fenny raised her eyebrows at him. “Probably a lot better than those terrible shorts you were wearing, all weighted down with pool water. Looked like they could’ve fallen down at any moment.”

“Would’ve made a more interesting scene,” Danny chuckled. “We probably gave those snobs the best show they’ve seen in a very long time.”

“I don’t doubt it. Speaking of snobs, I guess you should probably be going, shouldn’t you?” Fenny asked. “I mean you’ve still got that thing to take to Andy.”

“Fuck Andy,” Danny laughed.

“Been there, done that,” she shrugged.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Fuck me then.”

“Sounds like fun.”

They looked at each other carefully, and broke out into cautious smiles.

“You know, the only problem with this place is that their coffee isn’t worth shit,” Danny declared. “Wanna come back to my place, I could fix us up some real strong coffee.”

“Sounds great,” she perked, grabbing her purse.

“Ooh, real food,” Brad breathed as the waitress dropped the two bacon sandwiches on the table. “Remind me again why you have nothing edible in your kitchen?”

“Uh, Freya’s kind of taken over,” Paul mumbled, taking a bite of breakfast.

“Funny, I remember when you still had an ounce of self respect,” Brad mused.

“Hey, it’s a sacrifice I’ve chosen to make,” Paul huffed.

“You do an awful lot of sacrificing for that woman, what’s she ever sacrificed for you? I mean, other than having to wake up next to you.”

“Very funny,” Paul growled. “I notice you haven’t got a woman on your arm, so shut up.”

“Hey, I’m serious here. Why put up with Ms. Multigrain Toast, who I figure the only thing you have in common with is your desire to get laid. Especially when Gina’s around?”

Paul narrowed his eyes at Brad. “Like you have any right to say anything. You still planning to look up psycho-bitch Ritza?”

“At least she lets me eat food that has flavor in it.”

“She tried to kill you, you dickhead!”

“She had her reasons. She was scared and confused.”

“Yeah, well she’s also a homicidal sociopath who tried to kill me, my wife, our friend, and the woman you love. Call me crazy, but I happen to think attempted murder and kidnapping are harder to forgive than sugar free, colon clearing breakfast foods.”

“Ritza has changed.”

“Sure.”

They glared at each other for a few moments before turning their attention back to their food.

“I’m gonna go see her this afternoon,” Brad announced.

“Ritza?”

“Yeah.”

“Lemme flag down a waitress, I’ll get you a knife to take with you.”

“Come off it. It’s something I need to do. Ask Gina – oh wait, you can’t, can you.”

“Man, you sure do hold a grudge,” Paul sighed.

“So do you,” Brad countered.

“I feel we should go drinking again,” Paul said with a small laugh.

“I would, but you’ve got to meet Freya for lunch, and I don’t want to get you in trouble again, things are bad enough as they are.”

Paul gave a low moan and dropped his head to the table. “Don’t make me go,” he said into the Formica. “She’ll drag me all over town, and I have a headache.”

“Well it’ll give you ample opportunity to buy some real food, huh,” Brad smirked.

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to get in trouble again,” Paul countered, raising his head.

Brad shrugged and polished off his sandwich. “I see nothing wrong with sacrificing your happiness for some junk food.”

Paul dropped his head to the table again.

Danny unlocked the door and guided Fenny into his apartment. She stood in the entryway, absently taking in her surroundings and listening to him lock the door. Her blood was already throbbing in her ears as she turned to face him, and he instantly captured her in a heavy, demanding kiss, which she eagerly returned. In a madly groping embrace, they stumbled sideways towards the couch.

“Sorry,” he managed to gasp against her lips as she backed into the coffee table with a pained hiss.

“Don’t be,” she soothed, kissing him again as she reached down to slide her hands under his shirt. He took the hint and broke their embrace just long enough to pull the shirt off. Grateful to finally be able to touch the perfectly toned body she’d seen just hours ago, Fenny dropped a line of kisses across his chest, briefly pausing to nip at chosen areas.

“Jesus,” Danny groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. As they collapsed together on the couch, she pulled off her glasses and tossed them onto the coffee table. “Wait,” he said, propping himself over her after getting the fly of her jeans undone.

Fenny tore her mouth from his shoulder reluctantly to look into his eyes. “What?” she demanded desperately.

“I offered you coffee, didn’t I?” Danny smirked.

“I don’t drink it,” she panted, grabbing his arms for fear he’d get up to brew a pot.

“Neither do I,” he admitted. “I just wanted an excuse to get you over here.”

“That was a dirty trick,” she said, pulling his face down for another heated kiss and wrapping one leg around his thigh.

“That’s just the beginning of my dirty tricks, darling,” Danny cooed as he pressed her into the couch to ravage her neck.

“God, I can’t wait to see the rest.”

Brad stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver. It was a pleasant enough suburban neighborhood, a bit on the downtrodden side, nothing like the opulence of the home he’d visited with Ritza in the country. He paused at the door, letting the conflicting memories of that house wash over him. Shaking off the thoughts, he checked the address on the envelope in his pocket with the numbers on the house, and cautiously knocked.

After a moment he heard a small voice approaching the door, followed by Ritza’s familiar timbre; Brad broke out in goosebumps. The door flew open and Ritza and Brad froze, gaping at each other. “Mummy,” the little boy at her side cooed, pulling on her shirt, and they tore their gaze to glance at him.

“Go and play in your room,” she advised the child, her son, and as he scampered off she opened the screen door to let Brad into her home. “I, well, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she gasped.

“I got your letter,” he announced dumbly, watching as Ritza scattered around the room, picking up toys and books, pausing a moment to clear the laundry she’d managed to get half folded off the couch. It was comforting seeing her returned to a domestic lifestyle.

“Right,” she breathed, looking around and nervously perching on the couch, gesturing for Brad to join her.

“So, how have things been?” This had to have been the most absurd conversation Brad had ever been involved in.

“Um, well, not entirely bad. You?”

“Oh, uh, the same, really.”

“How’s Fenny?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he sighed. “We’re not together anymore.”

“Really?” Ritza gasped before she could stop herself. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Brad shrugged nonchalantly.

“Mummy,” a voice sobbed as the little boy tottered down the hallway in tears. “It’s broke!”

“Oh, come here Gus,” Ritza cooed, scooping him up onto the couch next to her. “What’s wrong with it?” She examined the slightly worn toy truck he’d thrust up at her.

“The door, it’s off,” he pouted, handing the plastic piece to her as well. “I didn’t mean it, it just broked, fix it?”

“Oh, calm down sweetheart, I’m sure we can fix it.”

“Let me have a go,” Brad chimed after a minute or two of Ritza fiddling with the pieces and Gus blubbering. She gratefully passed the broken truck to him, and he quickly had it snapped back together.

“Yay,” Gus perked, climbing over his mother to hop into Brad’s lap to retrieve the beloved toy.

“What do we say?” Ritza admonished as the child slid off the couch with help from Brad’s pants.

“Thank you,” Gus smiled before taking off down the hall again, Brad and Ritza both smiling after him.

“How old is he now?” Brad asked.

“Almost four. It’s been hard,” she admitted under her breath.

“I know,” he soothed. “I’ve got a little girl back home in Montana.” Ritza gaped at him, not sure which question to ask first, and he smiled at her. “Lily, she’s two. The result of a one night stand. I’ve got a place in Montana where her mom and stepdad live so I can be with her whenever I get the time.”

Ritza smiled a watery smile at him. “I knew you were a good man,” she said, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, jumping up from the couch and fleeing into the kitchen.

Brad dropped his elbows on his knees and pulled his fingers through his hair as he let out a deep breath, not knowing what to do.

“So,” Amanda perked, smiling as Gina just about jumped out of her skin. “Is your office to your liking?”

“It’s great,” Gina smiled, looking around at the usual clutter she always accumulated in her work station: Dilbert calendar, stuffed giraffe and ocelot, a few photos that were a bit painful at the moment. “Still getting acquainted with the new computer though, different software, y’know.”

“Piece of cake,” Amanda declared. “So, I was thinking, how about I take you out for a welcome back lunch?”

“Oh, actually I’m waiting for a phone call, I’m going out with a friend. Actually she should have called by now.”

“Rain check then?”

“Sure,” Gina grinned.

Amanda leaned against the cubicle wall. “So, how do you know Freya?”

Gina’s face instantly fell. As she tried to decide whether or not to declare the arts journalist a miserable home wrecker, they were interrupted by Gina’s cell phone ringing. “Friend of Paul’s,” she answered quickly before gesturing to Amanda to wait a moment and answering the phone. “Hello? Hi Fen. Yeah, now’s good. There’s a mall not far from the hotel, they’ve got a McDonalds. You’ve spent too much time in California, I know it’s not healthy, but it tastes good. Sure, right, do you want me to come get you? You’re sure? Alright, see you there in about half an hour. See you then. Bye.” Gina looked up at Amanda as she returned her phone to her bag and stood to leave. “So, let me know about lunch, hey?”

“Absolutely,” Amanda said, certain there was something about Freya and Gina that wasn’t quite right. “Um, have fun with your friend.”

Fenny wandered into the mall still trying to tame her hair and wishing she’d had time to take a shower. But it had been enough of an adventure gathering her clothes from not only the living room and the bedroom but the hallway as well, and trying to convince Danny to let her out of bed and make good on his offer to drive her to the mall. He’d spent a full five minutes listing off erotic things he’d thought of doing to or with her, and it took Fenny reminding him about his errand for Andy to drag him out of bed. It also left them each with a twinge of guilt that made the car ride over a bit pained. She shook herself out of that state of mind as she found the McDonald’s franchise in the food court, and Gina nearby waiting patiently at a table with a newspaper. “Hi there,” Fenny perked as she wandered up to sit next to her.

“My god, you’ve had sex,” Gina gasped as she looked over.

Fenny’s eyes went wide. “Well…”

“You fucked Danny.”

“How do you know these things?” Fenny demanded in hushed tones.

“I’m disgusted.”

Fenny frowned at herself. “I know, I feel so terrible. Well, part of me does. The sex is unbelievable.”

“I can’t believe I’m listening to this,” Gina sighed. “You used to have morals.”

“When?” Fenny demanded, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Neither one of us has ever been accused of being moral.”

“What about Andy, huh?”

“I know,” Fenny sighed. Here she was with Andy’s credit card to buy clothes to please him, and she’d spent the morning moaning Danny’s name. “But you don’t realize how badly I needed that, a good bout of lust and sweat. Andy’s, well, he’s rather puritanical about sex, and he spends so much time working…but god, Danny, the things he did—”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” Gina snapped as she stood up and wandered into line for lunch, followed by Fenny. “He’s is a friend of mine, Fen, I don’t need you telling me the graphic details of your adulterous romp.”

“Sorry,” Fenny muttered. “It’s just, I thought you of all people would understand where I’m coming from.”

“Why?”

“Well, y’know, the whole Paul and Greg fiasco?”

“This is different. You’re just doing it for the sex, aren’t you?”

“It’s a basic human need,” Fenny defended weekly. “Hey, maybe that’s your problem.”

“What is?”

“The tables have turned, you’re the sexually frustrated one. You need to get laid,” she smirked.

Gina frowned at her. “No, I think my problem may be that my husband is cheating on me with someone who thinks tofu is one of the major food groups, and you’re no better than he is.”

“I thought you hated Andy.”

“Doesn’t mean you should sleep with someone else.”

“It’s what I’m good at,” Fenny said miserably. “And a talent you’re not exactly lacking in either.”

“You should buy some spectacular outfit to make it up to him,” Gina declared.

“You’re gonna punish me, aren’t you?” Fenny asked, not sure if she should be amused or deeply frightened.

“Damn straight.”

From the tone in Gina’s voice, Fenny opted for deeply frightened.

“Oh Paul, what do you think of this one?” Freya asked.

“Nice,” Paul smiled, though it looked the same as the last five thousand blue tops she’d held up for his inspection.

“Look at this,” she cooed, dragging a hanger over to him. “Cashmere.”

“Very nice,” he said, fingering the material as he was prompted by Freya, wondering what was so fabulous about goat hair, especially when died that particular shade of cerulean blue.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a sweater like this,” Freya breathed, holding it against herself.

“Yeah, well,” Paul sighed, not sure what to say. Luckily they were distracted by some sort of skirmish that seemed to be occurring in one of the dressing rooms.

“No way in hell.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? I look just like those pretentious faked-up women I spent all last night trying not to eviscerate.”

“Speaking of eviscerating…”

Paul couldn’t help but smile as he wandered over. “What’re you doing to Fen?” he chided, and Gina jumped a mile into the air.

“What are you doing here?” Gina she asked as Fenny leapt back into the dressing room.

“Shopping,” he shrugged.

“Oh, there you are Gina,” Freya chimed as she wandered up from behind. “We just keep running into each other, don’t we?”

“Lucky me,” she sneered, her smile instantly falling.

“Come on out, Fen,” Paul urged, “let’s see what you’re buying.”

“Over my dead body,” Fenny declared, sticking her head over the top of the door.

“It can be arranged,” Gina said. “Besides, you’re in the wrong changing room, your clothes are in the next one over.”

“Fuck,” she hissed, and gingerly opened the door and stepped out, dressed in a sleeveless, formfitting, full length black cocktail dress with a mock empire waist. Paul cocked his head at her, trying to decide if he liked it or not while Gina smiled smugly.

“I like it,” Freya declared.

“Let’s try something else,” Gina announced hurriedly.

“Thank god,” Fenny sighed, slipping back into the dressing room.

“Oh, Fen, this is Freya, by the way,” Paul declared.

“Nice to meet you,” Fenny said, sticking her head briefly over the top of the door again.

“What are you dressing up for?” Freya queried.

“My boyfriend,” she sighed from inside.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

“Something that doesn’t make me look like a whore,” Fenny grumbled. “Conservative, dark colors, hides as much of my flesh as possible.”

“I’ll take a look round for you,” Freya perked and disappeared down the racks.

Fenny stuck her head over the door again to see that Freya was gone. “I’m not wearing anything she comes back with,” she whispered.

“Don’t be cruel, Fen,” Paul shushed her.

“I don’t trust anyone who’d carry around a bright blue angora sweater.”

“Cashmere,” he corrected.

“Sorry,” she said, pulling a face at him.

“Try on those other gowns, Fenella,” Gina ordered. “I’ll go see if I can find something else.”

“Why did I ask you to help me?” she heard Fenny mutter as she and Paul headed off into the sales floor.

They perused the garments in silence for a few minutes until Gina and Paul met at the same rack. “You never dressed up for me,” Paul declared, pulling out a bright red strappy number.

“You never asked,” Gina shrugged.

“I never needed you to dress up, you can make flares and a t-shirt sexy.”

She smiled at him and was about to make a comment involving whipped cream and a blindfold, but Freya popped up next to Paul. “How about this?” she asked, holding up a dress with an impossibly short skirt.

“Only if you want to get kicked in the teeth. On second thought, go for it,” Gina jeered, reaching past Paul to investigate an iridescent green gown, letting her free hand trail lightly over his arm, and she allowed herself a private smile as he seemed to quiver a bit.

Freya shrugged to herself and started to head back when they were met by Fenny with an armload of dresses. “I’m ready, let’s leave,” she announced.

“Well which ones did you decide on?” Gina asked.

“The ones you told me were prudish and boring.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“So, Paul,” Fenny began, choosing to ignore Gina and her fashion advice, “are you still up for that dinner?”

“Oh, yeah,” Paul agreed enthusiastically.

“Dinner?” Freya pouted.

“I invited Fen and her boyfriend to have dinner with us. I want to meet the guy.”

“Great,” Freya chirped. “I’d like to meet him too. Oh, I know, why don’t you invite Gina over, maybe she’d get along with our houseguest?”

“Houseguest?” Fenny echoed, not liking the sound of things.

“Yeah, some other American,” Gina shrugged. “Brad, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Paul said, looking apologetically at Fenny for a moment. “I’d really like it if you came, Gina,” he perked with a wicked smile. “I’d do anything to make you come.”

“I think you already have,” Gina laughed. “Yeah, I’d love to come.”

Fenny rolled her eyes and shook her head at the rather lecherous looks they were giving each other and the oblivious smile Freya was radiating at the world. “Tonight good for everyone?” she asked. “I don’t think Andy has plans.”

“Great,” Gina nodded with an impish smile. “Sounds like fun.”

“Ritza?” Brad called softly as he wandered into the kitchen where Ritza was leaning against the oven, hiding her face in a dishrag.

She let out a sob and pulled the cloth from her face as she felt him touch her shoulder. “God, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m so sorry for ever doing anything to hurt you or the people you care for.” She took a hitching breath, her eyes still darting everywhere in the room but his face. “I don’t know why you’re even here, you have every right in the world to hate me, I tried to ruin your life, I assumed you’d never even think about me again, I thought you’d burnt that letter—”

“But I didn’t,” Brad interrupted softly, causing her to jerk her gaze to his eyes. “I read it, that’s got to mean something, doesn’t it? And you’re right.” Her brows furrowed as she searched his face for an explanation. “We did have something very special.”

“Brad?”

Any question she might have felt the need to ask disappeared as he took the step necessary to close the gap between them, hands quickly sliding around her waist, lips gently seeking out hers. She whimpered slightly into his mouth as they clung to each other almost desperately, their kiss growing deeper, his arms around her feeling so right.