Authors: Sarah Rayner
Getting Even
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Contents
  4. You rise to play and go to bed to work
  6. A constant, loving, noble nature
  7. I grace my cause in speaking for myself
  8. I am worth no worse a place
  9. The raven o'er the infected house
10. The net that shall enmesh them all
12. A capable and wide revenge
13. What is spoke comes from my love
14. Perdition catch my soul but I do love thee!
15. And when I love thee not, chaos is come again
16. The thought doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my innards
17. Make all the money thou canst
18. The green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on
19. Dangerous conceits are in their natures poison
20. Weight'st thy words before thou giv'st them breath
21. Can anything be made of this?
24. Work on, my medicine, work!
25. Farewell the tranquil mind! Farewell content!
27. I had rather be a toad ⦠than keep a corner in the thing I love for other's uses
28. Tonight, I do entreat that we may sup together
29. I understand a fury in your words, but not the words
31. Guiltiness will speak, though tongues were out of use
32. This is the night that either makes me, or fordoes me quite
36. She was too fond of her most filthy bargain
38. Villainy, villainy, villainy!
39. Hell and might must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light
41. Heaven truly knows thou art as false as hell
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1. Friends all
“We'll be late,” said Dan.
“Aw ⦠Five more minutes?” said Orianna, snuggling up to him.
With her head on his chest, she could feel his breath come and go. She gazed absentmindedly past the geraniums on the windowsill and into the distance; she was in that soporific state after making love when nothing else matters. Even the presentation she was due to give that morning seemed less important, although the new business could be worth thousands to the ad agency where she worked.
If I were to die this minute, she thought, I'd die happy. If a bomb were to land
slap bang
on the apartment and snuff us out in an instant, it would be a good time to go.
Her eyes came to rest on the window box. There was something about the zinging red petals against the dusty bright green of the leaves she found beautiful. Even on a gray day like today, they were brimming with life, determined to bloom, defiant.
This was how Dan made her feelâthe world seemed heightened, her senses ablaze. Ordinary experiences were more intense; she noticed things that might otherwise pass her by.
Orianna patted his belly. “You realize this is one of my favorite bits of you?”
Dan breathed in and tensed his lower abdomen. “Lookâyou can almost see the outline of my muscles.”
Much as she loved his body, Orianna was skeptical. Thanks to the amount of sex they'd been having, she'd got to know every inch of him over the last few months and it seemed unlikely she'd have missed such a delicious sign of masculinity. “Where?”
Dan extricated himself from their embrace and sat up. “Here.”
Indeed, there were the oh-so-faint contours of a six-pack.
“Ooh yes!”
“I've worked hard for them. I've been doing extra sit-ups with Rob at the gym.”
“Because I said I liked your little tummy?”
Dan's voice was gruff. “I've always been a bit conscious of it.”
“I didn't mean it as a criticism⦔
“No, I know⦔ He paused. “You see, I didn't used to be like this.”
“Oh?”
“I was quite chubby, when I was little.”
She couldn't imagine it. Dan might not be Michelangelo's
David,
but he was in pretty good shape for an ad man with several years' drinking and debauchery under his belt.
He scratched his head, then muttered, “My brother used to call me
Dough Boy.
”
“No!” She couldn't resist poking a finger into Dan's midriff. “Because of this?”
Dan jumped. “Stop! That tickles!”
“What did you say?” She tickled him some more.
Dan laughed, helpless, but preventing further humiliation seemed the incentive he needed to precipitate him out of bed and into the shower. Minutes later he emerged, rubbing his hair dry with a towel so it stood up in haphazard spikes.
“It'd be great to celebrate getting the pitch over with,” she said. “What are you doing tonight?” She awaited his response, apprehensive. Although they'd been seeing each other a while and he'd never given her cause to worry, Orianna wasn't confident when it came to men. Moments of uncertainty when she feared he might say he had something better to do still gave her butterflies.
“I've got an appointment with Rob at seven thirty.”
“Oh.” She turned away so he wouldn't see how disappointed she was. She'd fallen for Dan big-time and couldn't get enough of him. Although perhaps she ought to be gratefulâthese grueling sessions with his personal trainer seemed to be keeping him trim.
He added, “I'm free afterwards.”
Inside she skipped with delight. “I thought you guys sometimes went for a drink, when you have an evening session?”
“Yeah, we doâonly a quick one.”
“Don't let me stop you.”
“No, no, you won't.”
Hmm, she pondered, I do so want to see Dan later, and it's about time we began socializing openly ⦠Rob would be a good place to start. Besides, it could be worth getting to know him. All this talk of tummiesânow I'm in a regular sexual relationship, I might benefit from a little personal training myself. He could help me stave off those Italian curves to which I seem genetically disposed if Mum is anything to go by.
“How about I hook up with you both somewhere? I'd like to meet him.”
“Actually, that may not be a bad idea.”
“Yeah?”
“I'm a bit worried about Rob.”
“Oh?” Dan's
such
a sweetheart, thought Orianna. How touching he's so concerned.
“Having you there might help.”
“D'you reckon?” Even though she'd never met Rob, she was flattered by the idea he could need her advice.
“I think he might, er⦔ Dan scratched his scalp again, a habit she'd noticed suggested he was about to reveal something.
What could it be? Perhaps Rob had girlfriend problems, and Orianna, with her female perspective, could help him. She was good at being a sympathetic ear. And maybe, when he met Orianna, he'd realize what a great girl
she
was, and appreciating there were other lovely women out there would ease his pain ⦠Not that she'd do anything about it, of course. No, she was in love with Dan (though she hadn't told him yet), but still, it was nice to be admired. She smiled, relishing the prospect of having two men to herself for the evening. “Mm?”
“I think he might fancy me,” muttered Dan.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
Across London, in Battersea, Rob slept on under his duvet, oblivious to the fact his sexual proclivities were an early morning talking point in Holloway. He'd no client till lunchtime today (thank God) so could indulge in sleeping in, with Potato, the cat, snuggled up at his feet. The revving engines and beeping horns of rush hour had evolved into the soft
schwoom, schwoom
of regular traffic, and his roommate had banged the front door shut long before Rob began to stir. His friends often commented on his ability to sleep through anything; today was no exception.
Eventually, after eleven, Potato made his starvation clear with determined padding of paws on his pillow. Rob rubbed his eyes, looked crossly at Potato and then the alarm clock, admitted the cat was within his rights, and hauled himself blearily into the kitchen. He liked to maintain it was because his job was so
physical
he needed more rest than most, though in truth he would sleep just as long even when he'd been slobbing in front of the television all day.
“You miss our Chloë, don't you?” he said to Potato and scooped an extra spoonful of Whiskas into his bowl to make up for it. Chloë was Rob's old roommate, and a few weeks before she'd gone to work in New York, leaving him in charge of the cat. Rob missed Chloë too, but at least he could regularly correspond with her by instant messenger.
Texting and phoning the US was expensive, but messaging was free, so he would contact Chloë several times a day, keeping her abreast of the minutiae of his life. He'd even written once to tell her the state of his bowels after a rather unsuccessful attempt at a new Indian recipe. It was only when she'd replied tetchily that this was TMI (and Chloë was no prude), especially as she had Important Things To Do (and Chloë tended to welcome distraction), he realized he'd better curb his transatlantic correspondence.
At last he was dressed, propelled by the need to pay his direct debits and keep himself in designer shirts and the occasional designer drug. Armed with numerous toiletries and a post-workout change of clothes, he headed into the West End. He'd do a quick bit of food shopping in Chinatown, then go to the gym and meet his first client. She was from Green Integrated, the Soho agency whose staff provided a sizeable chunk of his business: a woman he'd not met before.
Ivy.
*Â Â Â *Â Â Â *
“Perfect weather for
That Sunshine Feeling
,” quipped Ivy, throwing her bag and raincoat onto the sofa.
Orianna had been hard at work for almost an hour, nosed pressed to the screen of her computer. She turned to look out of the window. It was raining buckets. “Isn't it?”
“So, sweetie.” Ivy's tone was brisk. “How we doing?”
“Nearly sorted. I'm running out captions for the boards.”
“You're a star. When do we have to leave?”
“Nine thirty.”
“Just time for a coffee.”
“You mean you're not going to start the day with a glass of
That Sunshine Feeling
?” Orianna laughed.
“Am I hell,” said Ivy, and headed off to the drinks machine.
While her copywriter was gone, Orianna thumbed through their creative work, checking everything was in order.
That Sunshine Feeling
, a new soft drink, could be a very exciting piece of business. Press ads, posters, direct mail, promotionsâthe lot. She and Ivy had been slaving on the product all week, staying late several nights on the trot.
As she was sticking a caption on the last board, her phone rang.