"Amanda? You know Amanda? What did she say? If she said anything about an obsession she's lying and if she made some stupid remark about me not having got laid in six months she's wrong because I slept with a guy from accounts that I never told her about," Gina babbled and looked shocked at Paul.
          Paul looked at his feet and broke into a smile, "Actually, she only talked to my publicist."
          "Oh god," Gina blushed and buried her face in her hands. Paul sniggered and she felt his hand squeeze her shoulder gently.
          "Come on, I'll buy you a cuppa since you were so rude and didn't let me get one earlier," he mused and got to his feet.
          "I think I might just find a nice rock to crawl under if it’s ok with you."
          "No it’s not, get up, come on, let’s go," he enthused and Gina reluctantly got to her feet. They headed toward the gallery café, only stopping to view a sculpture.
          "Is that a giant penis?" Gina asked, finally regaining some composure.
          "You would think that you smutty, smutty girl," Paul teased. "It's apparently a woman giving birth."
          "Looks like some guy just evolved from making play doh replicas of his dick," Gina shrugged.
          Paul sniggered, "I'm going to use that one day when I catch some pretentious art fucker looking at it."
          "Yeah, you would," Gina mused.

          They found a quiet corner of the café and Paul ordered a pot of tea. They sat in silence mulling over the steaming liquid for a few minutes, only looking up to share nervous glances.
          "So, since you're not interviewing me," Paul eventually piped up, the silence driving him insane, "and since you seem to know more about me than I do anyway, can I interrogate you?"
          Gina wrung her hands uncomfortably, she'd never found herself being interviewed before. "If I said no would it matter?"
          "Of course not," Paul grinned.
          "Fine, ask away," she sighed.
          Paul thought for a moment, "You from around here?"
          "Nope, Adelaide and before you ask, yes I do now how to dig a shallow grave."
          "Right, we'll just move on then," Paul mused. "Parents?"
          "Yeah, two."
          "Oh you're hysterical," Paul said deadpan. "Religious?"
          "Jesus Christ no."
          "Blasphemy is good," Paul sniggered. "Like your job?"
          "Not really. I'd rather be penning my first novel."
          "And what would that be about?"
          "How irritating people who ask questions are," Gina said, raising an eyebrow.
          "You're great," Paul beamed. "You single?"
          "Would I be talking to you if I wasn't?" Gina countered as she felt her cheeks redden again.
          "Hey, plenty of women would leave their husbands for me," Paul declared.
          "Oh and then what happens? They fuck you and become lesbians?"
          "You're not great anymore you're just mean," Paul pouted. "Anyway, I'm asking the questions here."
          "Fine," Gina sighed and leaned back in her chair.
          "Favorite movie?"
          "Lame question, Dirty Dancing."
          "Lame answer," Paul chided and continued without missing a beat. "Most disgusting habit?"
          Gina screwed up her face as she thought for a moment, "I don't know…I pick my nose occasionally."
          "That's not disgusting everyone does that."
          "I think it shouldn't be deemed as disgusting, maybe if you picked someone else's…"
          "I'd pick yours," Paul sighed and then frowned. "God, why'd I say that?"
          "Stupidity?" Gina mused.
          "Now all I can think of is nose picking," Paul laughed.
          "Are you asking anymore questions or have we breached the bounds of moral decency?" Gina asked.
          Paul fingered his empty mug for a moment; "You wanna go out tomorrow night?"
          Gina looked at him blankly a moment, was he being serious or having her on. She knew he was a convincing liar and while her heart leapt at the mere thought of hitting the town with him, she didn't want to be humiliated if he was just taking the piss.
          "What? Like on a date?" she eventually mumbled.
          "Yeah," Paul said looking slightly taken aback. "You know like when two people who like each other go to a bar or something,"
          "So you like me huh?"
          Paul broke into a wry smile and poked a tea drip on his mug. "I may find you both mentally and physically attractive yes."
          Gina broke into giggles and felt any left over embarrassment or nervousness drain away. "Ok then, I'll go out with your sorry arse."
          "But what about the rest of me?" Paul gasped, his eyes wide. Gina cracked up and lobbed a leftover sugar packet at him.
          "You should go?"
          "Why? You sick of me already?"
          "No, but you're supposed to be filming in a couple of hours aren't you?"
          "Oh fuck, I completely forgot," Paul groaned as he reluctantly got to his feet. "I'll call you later or tomorrow or something then?"
          "Sure, might want my number first though," Gina nodded as they headed toward the exit, Paul grabbing his cell phone to call a cab.
          "Right, so can I…" before he could finish Gina grabbed his phone and programmed her number into it. "Oh thanks, that saves thinking."
          "Which is always an advantage with men," she chided as they stepped out into the late afternoon sun.
          "Oh hey, I thought of another question," Paul perked. "What's your wildest fantasy?"
          "Right now?" Gina countered.
          "At this very moment."
          Gina crossed her arms and pondered for a moment, "I wouldn't mind covering you in chocolate sauce and spending some quality time licking it off," she smiled wryly and then headed towards her parked car.
          "God I want her," Paul breathed as his phone burst into life. He answered it still watching Gina slide into her car and copped an earful from the producer for being late.

          Paul hurried through the entrance to the abc studios as he tried desperately to get to his dressing room before Ted Robinson the producer caught up with him. He was convinced he was safe until he caught sight of Ted marching toward him down the corridor. He was tempted to leap into the broom cupboard but decided to laugh it off as he usually did.
          "Ted, mate rehearsals going well?" Paul grinned.
          "They would going a lot fucking better with the host," Ted scowled. "You do realise you're three hours late?"
          "I was taught at a young age you shouldn't do comedy on a full stomach," Paul shrugged. "And I was going to give it another hour just to be safe, but I thought no, I'll risk a tummy upset just for Ted."
          "I've known you for a long time McDermott and that's the lamest excuse I've ever heard," Ted scorned.
          Paul gasped and looked up and down the corridor mortified, "Are you accusing me of lying?"
          Ted, looking pained, rubbed his temples, "Oh just get changed and get into make-up."
          "Aw, anything for you mate," Paul chirped and much to Ted's surprise grabbed him and planted a kiss on his balding head. "You're a good friend," he added and disappeared into his dressing room.
          Ted looked shocked for a moment, regained his composure and made his way back to the studio muttering, "Lying hound."

          Gina decided to forgo going back to work, opting instead to go home. She had no desire to endure Danny's teasing or Amanda begging her for details, especially when she wasn't entirely sure what they were. She unlocked the door of her harbour side apartment and felt suddenly very lonely. Gina loved her apartment but in all respects it was fairly sparse with only a few bits of furniture, a throw rug and a few trinkets in the living room itself. She kept telling herself she needed to get a cat one day for company and so there'd be someone happy to see her when she got home. Gina slumped onto the couch and switched on the television; the only decent thing on was a sketch comedy show on cable, so without thinking she pressed play on the VCR and there was the man she's spent the last few hours with. She still didn’t believe it, she was still shocked she hadn't just slumped to the floor when he'd walked into that café. Then even more surprising, he'd asked her out on a date. Gina grabbed a cushion and held it to her chest, who was she kidding, he'd never call her. He had just been nice to get her on side and make sure she didn't write an article.
          "Why would that," she sighed, looking at the television where Paul was yelling about something, "want me?"

          After the filming had finished, several encores and a bit of set destruction Paul headed back to his dressing room. The second he closed the door he removed his jacket, cufflinks and tie and draped them over a chair. He unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt and started looking for something to wash the caked on make-up off with when there was a knock at the door.
          "Who is it?" he grumbled, annoyed at the lack of things to wash himself with.
          "Mikey, you want a beer little fella?" the voice on the other side asked.
          "Yes, get in here," Paul ordered and Mikey appeared beaming and carrying a beer for them both. "I can't find anything to clean this shit off with?"
          "Toilet paper?" Mikey suggested handing Paul his beer.
          "Yeah, thanks mate," Paul scorned as he took his beer, popped the top and sculled a quatre of its contents.
          "So?" Mikey asked, taking a seat in the only chair in the room. "Who is she?"
          "Hey?" Paul asked still looking for something. "Ah ha! Cotton balls," he added gleefully.
          "Who is she?"
          "Who is she what?" Paul asked innocently as he made his way to the sink on the far side of the room.
          Mikey took another mouthful of beer. "She who has caused you to (a) be late and (b) bounce off walls all night."
          "What makes you assume I'm not on amphetamines?" Paul asked as he removed a layer of make-up.
          "Because you always act the same way when you meet a new woman."
          "I do?" Paul gasped and looked over at Mikey. "Her name is Gina."
          "And what does Gina do?"
          "She's a journalist," Paul said sheepishly. "But she's a nice journalist, she never interviewed me."
          "She's a journalist but she never interviewed you?" Mikey said, sounding unconvinced. "So, what did you do instead or do I not want the mental imagery?"
          "We went to the art gallery and had tea," Paul smiled. "I've never met anyone like her mate, she's gorgeous, intelligent…"
          "You do realise you say that about all your girlfriends."
          "This one is different, I swear."
          "You say that too."
          "Well fuck off then if you're just going to be a bastard," Paul huffed.
          "All I'm saying mate is that you should know better. She's a journalist, she's got you off guard and is probably writing up some fucking bullshit about you as we speak."
          Paul dropped the cotton ball he was using in the bin and grabbed his beer, "Nah, she wouldn't do that too me."
          "She's a journalist, course she would. They're all scum mate," Mikey said matter-of-factly.
          Paul leaned miserably against counter and crossed his arms. "And I was imagining our children."
          "Paul, how long have you known her?" Mikey sighed.
          "Since 2:30 this arvo," Paul pouted and Mikey gave a small laugh.
          "I'm sure you'll find someone else tomorrow to be in love with mate," Mikey mused.
          Paul frowned at his beer and then shrugged, "Probably."