Adele approached the large, marble entrance of the restaurant Harry Eastman had requested they meet at. The marble floor was covered with a deep red carpet and dim lighting and candles added to the atmosphere. She stepped inside and was pounced on by a man in an expensive looking suit.
          “Good evening and welcome to Swanks, how can I help you?” he beamed and looked at her eagerly.
          “Ah, I’m looking for Harry Eastman,” Adele replied with a little trepidation.
          The man’s lips thinned, “Yes, you would be,” he said wryly. “Follow me.”
          Adele followed the man through the busiest part of the restaurant to the quietest, most discreet corner where Harry was waiting, a half-empty glass of scotch in front of him.
          Harry leapt up upon seeing Adele. “I’m so glad you made it Miss Brodie,” he smiled and ran his eyes over the little black dress she was wearing. “You look stunning.”
          “Thanks,” Adele blushed as the man in the expensive suit assisted her to her place.
          “I’ll leave you two for a few moments to decide what you want,” the man smarmed and then left to go and throw out some poor looking people.
          “This place looks uber expensive,” Adele remarked as she glanced at the menu and quickly discovered that a main meal and a glass of wine would pay her electricity bill.
          “It’s worth it for the food,” Harry nodded. “The chef is exceptional.”
          “I believe you,” Adele smiled before an uncomfortable silence fell over them.
          “So how are you enjoying working in ‘Eastman Tonight’ so far?” Harry said, rather forced but well meaning.
          “Well it’s certainly a change from the news,” Adele perked. “It helps that Wes started the same time, so we can be bewildered together.”
          Harry clenched his jaw but relaxed it again when the man in the expensive suit returned.
          “Are sir and madam ready to order now?”
          “Of course we are Lawrence,” Harry chided and looked across the table at Adele. “Ladies first.”
          “Of course,” Adele smiled and then hid her horror behind the ridiculously expensive menu.

          The dinner turned out to be rather pleasant; the food was glorious despite Adele not being entirely certain about what she’d ordered. The conversation flowed once they took the edginess away with a bottle of wine and there was some shameless flirting from both parties.
          They left the restaurant and Harry ushered Adele into his waiting limousine. He made sure to sit beside her as the speakers churned out a rather tacky Barry Mannilow CD.
          “It seems such a shame that we have to go back to the studio now,” Harry sighed, his fingers restlessly clenching and unclenching.
          “Yes, I’m quite sleepy after all that food and wine,” Adele agreed and yawned as if to prove her point.
          “That wasn’t what I was getting at,” Harry countered, his hand sliding into her bare knee. “I like you Miss Brodie.”
          “Oh,” Adele said, sounding more shocked than she actually was. “Thankyou.”
          Harry laughed. “So polite aren’t you?”
          “Well I’m not sure what to say,” she shrugged. “I mean I like you too,” she added and put a hand on his arm. This was true, she did like him but she wasn’t really attracted to him. Instead she just enjoyed the attention.
          “Now why would a lovely young thing like you like an old has been like me?”
          “You’re not old, you’re distinguished.”
          “So beautiful and intelligent,” he chuckled and stroked his thumb over the side of her knee.
          “Flatterer,” Adele giggled and then was silenced as Harry Eastman brought his lips roughly to hers. She wanted to squeal and push him away but her body relented and she found herself kissing him back.
          By the time the limousine arrived at the studio Adele was in Harry Eastman’s lap while his hands roamed the curves of her body.
          “Mr Eastman, we’re here,” the driver announced and Harry breathlessly motioned for Adele to move.
          “Come to my dressing room after the show Miss Brodie,” he declared, neatened his shirt and slid out of the limo. Adele took several deep breaths, readjusted her dress and did the same.

          Once inside, Adele headed straight for the restrooms. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and tried to comprehend why she was practically throwing herself at Harry Eastman. Her only conclusion was that she was so starved of affection that she’d fallen into desperation. She dampened her reddened cheeks before heading back outside into the throngs of people.
          A wolf-whistle rang out causing Adele to turn her head quickly. “You’re looking very seductive in that LBD Del,” Wes grinned cheekily as he stepped out of the make-up room.
          “Oh,” Adele said, her cheeks reddening again. She’d forgotten she’d come straight from dinner. “Sorry, I went for dinner with some friends.”
          “I wish my friends dressed like that,” Wes smiled. “I keep saying that under your anal power suit you’re a sexual goddess.”
          “And I’m sure under those jeans you have a very tiny penis.”
          “Oh ouch,” Wes chided. “By the way are we still…”
          “Miss Brodie,” Harry announced hurriedly as he strode past.
          “We’ll talk later,” Adele sighed and hurried after Harry while Wes stood there looking miserable.

          It turned out Harry didn’t exactly want Adele for anything, and she ended up sitting with the director and floor manager for the show. So while Harry came across happier and relaxed, and Wes was an absolute crack up, her enjoyment was generally tarnished.
          As everyone spilled out of the studio and into the corridor, Adele pushed her way through and approached Harry Eastman’s door. Brian Cassidy appeared, laughing at some inside joke and moved aside to let Adele in.
          “Good job Brodie,” he remarked, winked and quickly took up a discussion with someone passing through the corridor.
          “Harry,” she smiled as she noticed him cleaning the make-up from his face.
          “Ah Miss Brodie,” Harry smiled as he dropped the damp cloth he’d been using. “You’ve been on my mind the whole night.”
          “That seems like a pretty good place to be.”
          A glint flickered in Harry’s eye. “Let’s get out of here.”
          “Lead the way,” Adele smiled and cocked her head to the side.

          Before long Adele found herself sprawled on a leather couch in Harry Eastman’s plush apartment. Her clothes were long forgotten and her eyes closed as she tried to disengage herself from the situation she was in. Harry Eastman wasn’t a sensual lover by any means; he was far from it. He was rough, self-indulgent and had triumphantly grunted, came and fallen asleep before she had even built up a sweat.
          The strange thing was, she wasn’t as disgusted with herself or the situation as she should have been. There was something oddly comforting about having someone who wanted to spend time with you, no matter how unusual the circumstances.
          Still, she needed to get home and gently manoeuvred herself from under Harry. He grunted and turned over as she picked up her discarded garments and pulled them back on.

          Arriving back at her apartment Adele noticed a familiar figure slumped at her door.
          “Wes!” she gasped as he sat gripping a bottle in a brown paper bag in his hand.
          “Oh you do remember me,” he hissed drunkenly.
          “What?”
          “You said I could stay here!”
          “Oh.”
          Wes got unsteadily to his feet and she hurried over to help him keep balance. “I thought we were friends.”
          “We are friends,” Adele winced, copping a face full of his boozy breath. “Although I still barely know you.”
          “That’s cheap coming form you,” Wes spat more soberly and pulled the arm she was holding away. “You don’t know much about Eastman but you’re fucking him.”
          Adele felt her blood run cold, how the hell did he know that. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
          “I saw you leave with him,” Wes continued. “You were trying to reach his colon with your tongue in the limo.”
          “I think you’ve had way, way too much to drink Wes,” Adele declared trying to laugh it off. She unlocked the door to her apartment. “Come on, before someone thinks I’m being assaulted by a wino.”
          Wes grumbled something but followed her into the apartment. He staggered clumsily into a small table and Adele grabbed him and forced him onto the couch.
          “Take this,” he asked, offering up his bottle. Adele took it into the kitchen, poured the remaining contents down the sink and put the bottle out for recycling. She returned to find Wes still sitting miserably on the couch.
          “How much have you been drinking?”
          “Dunno,” Wes shrugged. “I went home and found her and what’s his face going for it in my bed.”
          “I’m sorry,” Adele sighed. “Are you going to be able to undress yourself?”
          “No, I doubt it,” Wes winced and Adele smirked as she bent down to untie his sneakers. Putting them aside she coaxed him to his feet and unbuttoned his shirt. “Y’know I hope you’re not fucking Eastman.”
          “Why? Would you be jealous?” Adele teased. “I know you have a soft spot for Easty.”
          “No because the guy is a fucking cretin and you can do better than that,” Wes declared rather soberly as he slid off his shirt.
          “Whatever I do with Harry Eastman is none of your business Wes,” Adele scorned as she undid his belt, button and fly. “Besides, you’ve just been dumped for another, more virile man so I hardly think you’re one to speak.”
          “Fine, you can lie to me but I’ll be waiting to say ‘I told you so’ when he fucks you over.”
          “Go sober up,” Adele huffed as she stalked off toward the bathroom.
          She closed the door behind her and peeled off her dress and underwear. Once under the soothing water of the shower, she sunk to the tiled floor and tried to make logic of what was going on in her life.