“I feel so much better,” Gina sighed as Fenny hit the rewind button. “Wanna watch it again?”

“I was all for the second time, and I put up with the third, but I don’t know if I could stomach a fourth dying scene, even if it is Leo DiCaprio.”

Gina shrugged. “What is it that young girls ever saw in him?”

Fenny looked at her over the tops of her glasses. “You’re one to talk. What did we ever see in those who shall not be mentioned?”

“At least you fell for the cute one,” Gina grumbled.

“Cute stupid one,” Fenny added.

“Look who I got—the married one. Not that we’re talking about them.”

“No. Um, you wanna order a pizza or something before we start our next movie?”

“This feels like a slumber party or something,” Gina laughed. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

“I still don’t see why you couldn’t just let me drive.”

“Because it’s my car, you whiny little brat,” Greg snapped. “Just tell me where to turn, I’ve only driven to Fenny’s once.” Brad glared at Greg. “Sorry.”

“Turn left at this next light.”

“Fine.” Greg flicked a cigarette ash out the window. “What do you plan to do when we get there?”

“You have any duct tape?” Brad asked casually.

“What?! You think I keep duct tape in my pocket all the time or something?”

“Well, yeah.”

Greg sighed. “Actually, I think there’s a roll in the trunk. You can’t seriously be thinking of using it somehow?”

Brad shrugged. “Fenny’s pretty stubborn when she wants to be, and I’m guessing Gina is too. I’m just saying, maybe a little duct tape could persuade them to listen to us.”

“What, tie ‘em to a chair or something?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of taping their mouths closed so they don’t scream at us until after we’ve made our points, but if you’re into the whole bondage thing…”

“I’m trying to be serious here, Sherwood. Besides, me and you against those two, we could end up hospitalized.”

“Ok. So I guess we just march up there—turn right at the next street—march up there, demand to be listened to, and wait for them to start throwing things at us.”

Greg shrugged and noticed the apartment complex come into view. “So, what did Fenny say to you?”

“She’s through with me and hopes I rot in hell. Gina?”

“We didn’t have much to say to each other. Says I fucked her up though.”

“How’d you do that?”

“Look, I’m only here ‘cause you dragged me along, leave me and Gina out of your little crisis, ok?” Greg huffed.

They fell silent. Greg relied on memory to find Fenny’s apartment, and they sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, thinking. Brad opened the door and got out, and Greg reluctantly followed. “Wanna bring the duct tape, just in case?” Brad asked.

“Boy, those pizza guys mean business, don’t they?” Fenny laughed as she got up to answer the door, pausing to grab the twenty dollar bill she had prepared for payment from the end table.

She threw the front door open and looked up. Her eyes widened and she slammed it shut again, locking it. “Fen?” Gina asked, concerned.

“Three guesses,” Fenny grumbled as they knocked on the door again. The doorknob jiggled but didn’t budge.

“They didn’t,” Gina gasped. Fenny nodded.

“Fenny, let me in,” Brad called from the hallway.

“Go to hell,” she called back.

“Then I’ll just have to say what I have to say out here for all your neighbors to hear.”

“Fine, then they can all know what an asshole Brad Sherwood is,” she called, almost hoping someone would hear.

“I am not engaged to Ritza,” he said, softer.

Fenny frowned at the door and then at Gina, who shrugged. She leaned against the door so her voice would carry better. “What makes you think I should believe you?” she demanded.

“Why would I lie to you?”

“Seems to be the pattern so far.”

“What about the ring?” Gina asked.

“Yeah, what about the ring?” Fenny echoed.

“I don’t know anything about whatever ring Gina thinks Ritz has.”

“I saw it, she showed it to me,” Gina yelled at the door, hoping to be heard.

“Well I didn’t give it to her,” Brad said sternly. “Let me in so I can talk to you, please?”

“Why are you here, Brad?” Fenny asked, not moving to open the door.

“Because I love you.” His voice came from the doorjamb, that smooth, sincere-sounding voice he had used so often, only to crush her once again.

“Like hell you do,” Fenny yelped, thumping the door where she hoped his head would be.

“Fenny, let me in.”

“For fuck’s sake, Fenny, stop being such a bitch and let us in.”

“You can tell Mr. Proops to go to hell as well,” Gina screeched from the couch.

“You hear that?” Fenny asked. She was answered by silence, or did she hear muffled murmuring? She looked through the peephole, but it was covered. Something was going on…

“Fine, we’re leaving,” Greg declared. “If you need us, we’ll be back in LA.”

She looked in the peephole again to watch them retreat down the hall. “You get the feeling that was too easy?” Fenny asked Gina.

“Something’s up,” Gina declared. “I’m a journalist, I can tell.”

“You don’t think they’re desperate enough to climb up the fire escape, do you?”

Gina giggled in spite of herself. “I happen to know that Greg is very familiar with fire escapes.”

“But you said—” There was a knock at the door. “I thought I told you two to, oh,” Fenny mumbled as she stepped away from the peephole and opened the door. “Sorry,” she said to the pizza delivery boy, “I thought you were someone else.”

“That’ll be $11.78,” he said, unfazed, and took the proffered bill.

“Thanks buddy,” Brad said, whizzing past him and taking the pizza.

“Great timing, man,” Greg grinned, handing the young kid a twenty dollar bill as he entered the room.

Fenny looked at them, aghast, mouth hanging open. “You mean, you mean to tell me that you bribed the pizza guy so that you could get into my apartment?”

“I thought it was a stroke of pure genius, personally,” Greg declared, helping himself to a piece of pizza. Brad, who had already managed to stuff half a piece in his mouth, nodded in agreement.

“What kind of pizza delivery guy are you?” Fenny demanded. “Isn’t there some sort of code of conduct or something? Where are your scruples?”

“Lady, if I had scruples, I would’ve made something of myself by now instead of delivering your dinner.” He nodded one last thanks to the guys and left, without offering change.

Gina wrestled a piece of pizza out of the box, ignoring Greg as he sat next to her. Fenny slammed the door closed and turned on Brad with her arms folded across her chest. “Okay. So. You got in. Now what?”

Brad put his half-eaten slice on the lid of the pizza box and wiped his hands on his jeans as he approached Fenny, who stood resolutely in the middle of the room. He sat on the arm of the couch and took both her hands in his and she looked down at him scornfully. “Fenny,” he began carefully, “we’ve both done some very stupid things. I’m willing to forgive you for yours if you’re willing to forgive me for mine. I’m not engaged to Ritza. I never was, and I never will be. I’ve been trying to break up with her for the last couple days, but I just couldn’t find a way. She’s, um, she’s a fragile person, really, and I don’t want to leave her hurt.”

“Fragile my ass,” Greg scoffed.

“But the last thing in the world I ever wanted to do,” Brad continued, ignoring Greg’s comment, “was hurt you. I’m sorry, for everything I put you through over these last few days. You need to know that I love you. And I hope that even after all this, you still love me at least enough to say that you’re willing to give you and me another shot. Please?”

He could see her softening, and both smiled. “So much for new, liberated Fenny,” Gina groused.

“I shouldn’t do this,” Fenny said, “not when I’m so righteously pissed at you, but yeah. I think we need to start over, put everything behind us.” Brad leaned in to kiss her, but she took a step back. “Ritza?” she asked.

“Gone, the minute I get back to LA,” he assured her.

“No ring?”

“Not that I gave her.”

“All right then.”

He leaned in again, and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle, almost chaste kiss, enough to remind them of why they were together. Had Greg and Gina not been there, they probably would have stripped each other right there in the living room…

Gina couldn’t help but let her eyes drift over towards Greg, who was grinning at her stupidly until he was caught, and they both looked away uncomfortably. “So, who’s for pizza and a movie?” Fenny asked as she pulled herself away from Brad.

“Oh, I should get going home, you know, angry wife and all,” Greg mused. Gina looked away and took another piece of pizza. “You coming, Brad?”

He looked questioningly at Fenny, who nodded her head towards the door. “Um, guess so,” Brad replied. “I should talk to Ritza.” Fenny nodded in approval. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he cooed to Fenny. “I’ll come up as soon as I can, we can make up for lost time…”

Gina rolled her eyes as the two men left the apartment. “What happened to you, Fen? How do you know this isn’t another one of his games?”

Fenny shifted in her seat. “I don’t know. I just, I have to believe him. I keep telling you, I’m stupid, and I love the guy.”

“You’re setting yourself up for another heartache, I can feel it,” Gina sighed.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Fenny reached for a slice of pizza. “You and Greg certainly were quiet. You’re not gonna work things out, huh?”

“I’m not much of a risk taker,” Gina shrugged. “Wanna get back to the movie?”

“Yeah, I guess. Lemme just get us some napkins if we’re gonna—” There was a knock at the door. “My, aren’t we popular this evening,” Fenny smiled as she headed for the door.

“You know the number of a good mechanic?” Greg grumbled.

“Greg’s car died,” Brad announced gleefully as they came into the apartment again. “I think it’s karmic.”

“What’s wrong with your car?” Gina asked.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t need the mechanic, would I?” he snapped.

“I’m sure all the garages are closed by now,” Fenny said, glancing at her watch. “I guess you’ll just have to stay here for the night.”

“No fucking way,” Greg declared.

“Wanna walk home?” Fenny asked.

“Probably wouldn’t make it to the corner before you had an asthmatic attack,” Gina jeered, noticing the cigarette he was holding.

“Look, I’ve got the sofa bed, and you guys are welcome to it—“

“What?” Brad yelped.

“Share a bed with this ape?” Greg demanded. “No thank you.”

“That or you take the bus to a hotel,” Fenny shrugged.

“Christ,” Greg breathed. “Fine, I’ll take the damned sofa.”

“But Fen,” Brad pleaded. “Why do I have to share a bed when half of yours is gonna be empty?”

“Because you’ve still got Ritza to deal with. I know I’ve said it before, but I’m putting my foot down this time. I’m tired of being the other woman.”

“Fen….”

“No.”

“But I thought—“

“You can take the bus,” Fenny reminded him.

“Fine,” Brad huffed.