“Good afternoon everybody, isn’t it a lovely day?” Greg perked as he bounded into the green room.

“Have you been drinking?” Colin asked.

“No I haven’t. I’m just in a good mood,” Greg replied airily.

Colin and Ryan both burst out laughing.

“I’m serious,” Greg scorned.

“Course you are buddy,” Ryan mused and helped himself to something from the spread that had been prepared for them.

“Why is it so hard to believe?” Greg continued.

“Because we’ve known you long enough to know that it simply isn’t possible,” Colin said pointedly.

Greg looked sulkily at his friends. “Hey, I meant to ask. Did you know Brad’s engaged to Ritza?” he perked up.

Ryan dropped the can of Pepsi he was drinking from. “He’s done what?”

“You can’t be serious,” Colin gasped, getting Ryan some paper towels to mop up the spilt Pepsi.

“According to Gina, Ritza’s got some huge rock on her finger,” Greg nodded.

“I’ll kill him,” Ryan spat. He already hated Ritza with a vengeance. The thought that she might be around permanently was enough to make him consider emigrating.

“Hey Col, Ry,” Brad perked, sauntering into the green room. “Greg,” he added with disdain.

“What’s this we hear about you getting engaged?” Colin asked.

Brad looked bemused from Colin to Ryan and back again. “I’m not engaged.”

“Greg says Ritza’s wearing a ring?” Ryan said motioning to Greg.

Brad, Colin and Ryan turned to Greg. “Ah, gotta go…important phone call to make,” Greg babbled and rushed out of the green room.

He hurried into an empty office, pulled out his cell phone and dialled Gina’s number. He was greeted by a computerized voice that informed him her phone was off, she wasn’t answering or she was out of range.

“Shit,” he spat, and angrily shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“So, how much of our beautiful country have you gotten to see so far?” Fenny asked as she drove towards the nearest main street.

“Um, the airport, the newspaper office, the studio, your hotel, diners…that’s about it,” Gina answered.

“Right. Then we’ll take PCH,” Fenny declared, changing lanes.

“PCH?” Gina asked.

Fenny smiled. “Pacific Coast Highway. Highway 1. It’s a longer route to my place, but the traffic’s not as bad, and the view is infinitely better than driving through the Valley.”

“Let’s go then.” Fenny turned left onto Sunset Boulevard, and they drove a few miles enjoying the sunshine and the radio and the breeze through the opened windows. “Oh, and I went there,” Gina said, pointing to the Beverly Hills Hotel as it whizzed past.

“You never did tell me how that went,” Fenny mused.

“I have to thank you for sending Greg over,” Gina said. “It was pretty awful until he showed up. All the women there are witches, and they, well, didn’t appreciate my being there. Greg showed up and we danced, and we spent some time on the fire escape.”

“Ooh,” Fenny cooed.

“Greg needed nicotine, nothing much happened. We were going to go back to the party, but we ran into a couple women I was forced to work with at the time, I told them off, and he growled at them for me, and he took me home.”

“And…?” Fenny prompted.

“And nothing. He kissed me on the forehead and went home.”

“Really? You haven’t done anything?”

“Well, he kissed me when he showed up at my place earlier,” Gina said with a wry smile. “Of course, that was after he spent the night with you, so it seems a little trivial in perspective…”

“I am so, so sorry,” Fenny grumbled again. “I don’t know what got into me. Erm, bad choice of words, maybe. I’m spineless, is what my problem is. Not that it isn’t entirely my fault, but Greg, he’s…”

“I understand,” Gina said. “Completely. You wouldn’t expect a guy like that to have the power he has over women, would you?”

“Not at all,” Fenny giggled.

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect you to be the little sex-kitten you turned out to be either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fenny demanded. She knew what Gina meant, but you have to demand an explanation of a remark like that to retain some dignity.

“Every time I turn around, you’re getting some,” Gina chuckled. “And, I might add, it seems to be what gets you into the most trouble.”

“It does, doesn’t it? Strange, you know, a year ago I couldn’t get a guy, and now…this.”

“I don’t know whether to be jealous or feel sorry for you,” Gina mused.

“I’d feel sorry for me,” Fenny sighed. “All this crap I’ve gotten myself into, celibacy is starting to look like a really good idea. Sex with Greg has gotten me into trouble twice now, sex with Brad makes me hate myself and him. You know, Brad was so Mr. Morals when he found out Greg and I had slept together, ‘You shouldn’t cheat,’ and all that. So what’s with this ‘I’ll spend the night with Fenny and go back to my fiancée’ crap, huh?” She looked over at Gina, who was admiring the view. “Sorry,” she murmured.

“Let’s not talk about the guys, huh?” Gina suggested.

“Best idea ever,” Fenny smiled.

“Well, this is it,” Fenny chimed, dropping her keys on the coffee table and collapsing into an armchair. That two-hour drive always tired her out, and it seemed to have affected Gina the same. “Not much, but, you know. Make yourself at home.”

“Nice.” Gina nodded appreciatively. “These your paintings?”

Fenny looked around the walls as if she’d forgotten they were there. “Yeah, most of them. The non-objective pieces are something Jan bought at one of those trendy places,” she said, gesturing to a painting of a jumble of rectangles. “Likes to think they make her look intellectual.”

“Jan?” Gina asked.

“My roommate. She’s been out of town off and on for a couple months now, on tour, visiting family, doing shows. I figure you can stay in her room while you’re here. Um, mind if I check my messages?”

“Go ahead. You’ve probably got dozens.” She glanced through the bookshelves as Fenny disappeared into the kitchen. Gina could make out the low murmur of the answering machine, but couldn’t distinguish any words.

A few minutes later, Fenny emerged to find Gina flipping through an old sketchbook. “Eleven messages, 8 from my brother, who has vowed to kill me if he ever sees me again. Which doesn’t alleviate the problem of me not coming in to work, but Sully isn’t the brightest crayon in the box. The others were from my friends, so I should call.”

Gina nodded and settled on the couch, listening to the one-sided conversation as Fenny talked on the phone next to her. “Hi Art, me, Fenny. Yes, I’m back. Down to LA for a while. That’s a hard question to answer. No, we’re certainly not together again. Could we not discuss this please, it’s not important. Well I was wondering when our next show is…really? Today’s Wednesday? Ok, sure, I guess. I’ve got a friend here with me, and I bet she’d like to come.” Gina shrugged. “I’ll see you at Echoes then. Great. Bye.”

“Where are we going?” Gina asked sleepily.

“A Hitchhiker gig.”

“Hitchhiker?”

“Our improv troupe. Kinda Whose Line meets Theatresports meets psych ward.”

“Sounds like fun,” Gina laughed.

“Helps pay the bills. Something to fall back on when my brother fires me for abandoning work to screw around with a man engaged to marry a terminally painful wench.”

“Fen, I thought we agreed,” Gina chided with a giggle.

“Right. You hungry? I’m starved.”

Gina had been watching the show for the last twenty minutes and giggling through the last game, which involved Fenny using the word “negligee” in every sentence, Arthur using “cactus” and Maggie using “sea otter,” as the audience had suggested.

In all actuality, it was strange seeing Fenny up on stage—she seemed to become a totally different person; relaxed, witty, not afraid to make herself look a little foolish. Gina realized that in the short time they had known each other, most of their interaction had involved crying, screaming, plotting, or whining. This was probably the first time she had seen Fenny at ease, not worrying about Brad or Greg or anything else. She liked this Fenny much more.

Fenny was glad to be back home with old friends, getting back into the swing of things, getting to be herself again, immersing herself in her performance to keep her mind off…what she was trying desperately not to think about. It was one of the best shows they had given in a long time, and she was very pleased with herself. Who needed Brad anyway?

After the show, Fenny collapsed in a pleasantly adrenaline-filled heap next to Gina. “So, how’d you like it?”

“You guys were great. I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy,” Gina smiled.

“You gotta like what you do,” Fenny panted, exhausted. “Speaking of which…” She sunk a bit deeper into her chair as her brother approached.

“Fenella Louise Grey,” Sully barked, “where the hell have you been?”

“Gee, nice to see you too, bro. Yeah, I had a nice drive back, thanks,” Fenny grumbled.

“Louise?” Gina giggled.

“What’s this I hear about you having to comfort this Gina person—it takes a week to convince your friend to get over a married man?”

“Wait a minute, what?” Gina gasped, glancing back and forth between the two.

Fenny’s eyes had grown wide; she’d forgotten about her excuse. “Well, you know, it’s a woman thing, we’re irrational social creatures, it’s what we do. Takes a lot to get over a guy you’re crazy for,” she said, floundering.

“So what, you sat around watching romantic movies and eating chocolate for a week or something?” Sully demanded, ignoring Gina completely. “Whatever it was, you obviously thought was more important than your job, right?”

“Every time I come in this place I get screamed at,” Fenny murmured to herself. “Look, I’m the hardest working person in that studio, and I think it’s my right to take a week off to help a friend, regardless of how trivial you think it might be.”

“Just because you’re my sister, that doesn’t mean—“

“This has nothing to do with the fact that we’re related. I’ll have you know I have to work twice as hard as anyone else at work because no one takes me seriously ‘cause I’m the boss’s sister. I had some things to take care of in Los Angeles, and I told you over the phone that you could take it out of my vacation time, or my sick time or whatever you wanted to do. I worked hard to earn that time off, and I should be able to use it.”

“What about this Gina person, doesn’t she have a job or something, or does she just go around dragging her friends away from work when she’s not busy screwing around with other people’s husbands?”

Fenny cast a worried glance at Gina, who was frowning to herself. “She happens to be visiting from Australia, and what she’s doing with the people she’s doing things with is no concern of yours.”

“She doesn’t have any friends to torment in Australia?”

“Sully,” Fenny began firmly, “leave Gina out of this, it has absolutely nothing to do with her. I did what I did, and you can’t change that by yelling at me. I won’t go off without at least warning you, maybe that was a shitty thing to do. So here, I’m gonna take another week or two off, okay? I’m warning you now. I’ll come down to the office tomorrow, you can give me some things to maybe do some sketches for or something while I’m on vacation. Or not. I don’t care.” She folded her arms across her chest and waited for him to contradict her.

“Fine,” he huffed. “This better not become a habit for you, Fenny,” he grumbled before marching off.

“Fine,” Fenny mocked. She looked across the table at Gina. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t tell him I ran off to try and bag Brad, so I made up this thing about helping out a troubled friend, I don’t even know where he got this married man thing, and your name just popped into my head…”

“Yeah, hey, it’s no big deal. We’re not talking about the guys, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“So, another week or two off, huh?”

“Yeah. I think I gotta recharge, maybe take a real vacation where I can do something other than beat myself up all the time. I’ve seriously got like two months of vacation time coming to me. We could rent some movies, lay on the beach for a couple days, take a boat out to some of the islands, spend a few afternoons up in Santa Barbara…it’ll be fun.”

“After LA, running through a pack of rabid wolves with t-bones tied to our appendages sounds like fun,” Gina chuckled.