Fenny could do little but gape at him. Brad was the last person she’d expected to see, she was hardly prepared for such a meeting, and she wasn’t exactly looking her best. He caught sight of her face, red and blotchy from tears, and he seemed to grow a bit more dejected. They stared at each other a moment longer, neither quite sure what to do.

Brad cleared his throat. “Can, um, can I come in?”

Fenny stepped aside and he entered the room, heading for the small table crammed in a corner. She wiped her face furiously behind his back, trying to look a bit more presentable, to keep herself from crying again. She sat across from him at the glass table, the hideous silk flower arrangement in the middle hiding them from each other. Brad pushed it aside harshly.

“How’d you find me?” she asked, instantly regretting it because of the ridiculous tear-worn quality of her voice.

“You’ve stayed here before, so I just thought.”

She nodded. “Why’d you come here?”

“Well, you came to my place for a reason, I thought I’d let you say what you came to say.”

She shrugged at him, an uneasy one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t have much to say anymore.”

“Are you okay? You look terrible.”

“Thank you,” she grumbled. “I’ve had a trying day.”

“What happened?” Brad asked, reaching over and running a finger along one of the silk flowers.

“You don’t really want to hear my whining,” Fenny mumbled, nervously pulling at her fingers.

“Of course I do,” Brad said warmly. He stopped fingering the flower and took Fenny’s hands in his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She looked at their intertwined hands and then at Brad. He gave her a small smile and she began to relax.

“It’s all pretty trivial really. Who was that woman in your boxers?” Fenny asked meekly.

Brad let go of Fenny’s hands. “Ritza. We met in Australia”

“What were you doing in Australia?” Fenny asked, a bit surprised.

“It’s a long story, I don’t care to divulge,” Brad replied and cleared his throat.

“It must be rather serious then, if she’s followed you halfway across the world?” Fenny remarked.

“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Brad mused. “She thinks I’m a zookeeper though.”

Fenny looked at Brad like he was deranged. “I’m slightly wary of asking this…but why?”

“She’s never seen Whose Line, and we haven’t really had a lot of time to watch TV…” Brad’s voice trailed off.

Fenny felt her stomach knot. How charming, now she could envision Brad and Ritza going at it like monkeys in various parts of Brad’s apartment. Fenny suddenly remembered the time she had been doing some washing and Brad had come home.… She fought hard not to smile.

“I don’t want to know what you were thinking,” Brad announced.

“No,” Fenny replied, still fighting that smile and pretending to study the flowers.

There were a few seconds of silence, which Brad broke.

“Are you going to the taping on the weekend?” he asked.

“I don’t know…” Fenny mumbled. She wasn’t sure it would be that good an idea, stuck in a room with Brad and, quite possibly, Greg and this Ritza woman for a few hours surrounded by television cameras?

“I think it’s going to be great. I mean it’ll give me and Ritz a chance to catch up with the others,” Brad perked.

Fenny snapped off one of the silk flowers in surprise. Catch up? Ritza was friends with all the guys? She thought they’d only met in Australia. All the guys couldn’t have possibly been there? He hadn’t even bothered to introduce her to the others, sans Greg, even though she’d dropped rather large hints frequently.

“I see Greg’s got a new girlfriend, too.” It came out more spiteful than she intended.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. The guy’s an asshole anyway,” Brad spat.

Brad’s bitterness toward Greg shocked Fenny a bit, yet it was also slightly pleasing. He was still angry with Greg for sleeping with her. Did that mean he still cared?

“Yeah, some blonde thing. They look well suited,” Fenny mused.

“Maybe she was a hooker,” Brad suggested.

“That reminds me—what does Ritza do?” she piped up.

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Stuff,” he managed to say.

Fenny raised an eyebrow and Brad checked his watch.

“I should go. It’s getting late and everything,” he mumbled, getting to his feet.

“Yes, Ritza will be waiting,” Fenny almost mocked as they headed toward the door.

“You still didn’t tell me why you turned up,” Brad said as he reached for the handle.

“It doesn’t matter, really,” Fenny nodded.

Brad gave Fenny another small smile. “Come to the taping,” he said as he walked out into the corridor.

“Maybe,” Fenny smiled.

They stood in silence for a second. “Night,” Brad breathed, turned and headed off down the corridor.

“Night,” Fenny mumbled and closed the door. She leaned against it and her mantra returned; “Stupidstupidstupid.”