"And on recent news, Hugh Laurie, the estrela of the hit televisão show "House" is back in Los Angeles after a mês back início with his family. He smiles and seems unusually cheery as he stepped out of the airport this morning. News of his marriage falling apart seems to be completely untrue as pictures of him with his wife were shot around Londres last week, both of them showing no reservations for PDA. "House" is reported to start shooting its fifth season this spring. Stay tuned for…"

It had been four days since she had heard that news on her T.V and she still remembered every frame of picture and every word of it. It had haunted her enough that he had not called or texted her at all while he was at home, she had somehow managed to get through that. But he was back and it had been four torturously long days and nights and she was completely going out of her mind. She had been cooped up in her house since she heard the news hoping to for him to come around, and tonight was no different. She had kept herself busy almost all dia in her gym. She did yoga in the morning like she had always done. Then, she checked her phone for any calls or messages. After breakfast, she called a few friends and returned some of the calls that really meant nothing to her. She then ran a few miles on her treadmill because she really didn't know how else to keep herself occupied. She checked her phone. Then, she worked on her tan, which was already perfect and swam for a bit, but spent all afternoon nearby the pool, studying her script which she already knew back and forth. Now, the sun had long set and she knew she was becoming much too thin and her consciousness was biting her, telling her that she should eat something. She just didn’t have the energy. She checked her phone.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself and in an exasperated sigh, she headed for her cozinha and poured herself a glass of wine. She thought she might turn on the T.V but then she knew better and decided to take a long bath instead. The dia was becoming absurdly long. Why hasn't he called?

She leaned her head back, and let the wine take its effect into her empty stomach and right into her head. She tried to think of her summer in Spain. She had tried to have fun and she did for the most part, except the part where she would be missing him terribly when she was alone and when she was surrounded por numerous people. To tell the truth, everything about the summer was just a mess. She was a mess and she had no one to turn to. Not about this. And now the person she had most needed was gone.

Slowly realizing how pathetic she was, moaning over a man who really didn't give a fuck about her, she reached for her phone. A procurar down her contacts didn't take long for her to find the person she wanted to call.

He answered after two rings.

"Hey, Lisa. How are you?"

"Thomas!" she cooed over the line. "Do you still wanna take me to that new club you have been talking about forever?"

There was a beat on the other side, but Lisa knew she was going to get her way. "Yeah," came an unsure voice. "Do you mean now?"

"Sure. Why? Is there a problem?"

"No, of course not. It's just…it's almost ten. Don’t you have to start shooting tomorrow?"

Oh, leave it to the people you don’t really give a crap about to care about you, she sighed. "I just haven't seen you so long, I just thought if you might wanna get together for a few drinks. Once the season starts, you know I won't have much time again. What do you say?"

She could practically hear his smile over the line. "Yeah. Sure. I'll come pick you up in half an hour?"

"Perfect," she smiled. "I'll see you."

She stepped out of the bath and went straight into her closet. She needed a night out. Tonight she was just going to relax and try to find herself again. The way that she had been living for a very long time, climaxing to the past four days was not healthy. Going out was exactly what she needed. She chose a white jersey dress that was just tight enough to show off all her curves and it just barely covered her ass. This she matched with black and white stilettos with gold trims. She had been working out so much lately just to keep him off her mind that she knew she looked good even with that tight a dress. But tonight she wasn't dressing up for him. Tonight she was going to drink and have fun and dance. Then tomorrow she might feel better. For the first time in a long time, she dressed with an optimistic attitude. She even sang some tunes as she did her makeup.

When Thomas arrived she was ready and could not wait to go. As they drove towards their destination, she found herself amazingly light. Tommy was the perfect date. He was handsome, owned a few restaurant chains in L.A and New York, so loaded, and charmingly nice and not overly so. He was just perfect. They had met through friends about four years back when she had just moved to the city to do the show and he had been trying to woo her ever since. If it wasn't for a certain gentleman, she knew for a fact she would have gone out with him.

He took her hand and led her easily enough into the bar. It was filled with people with barely enough o espaço to breath as they entered. But a minuto had not gone por when Tommy shook hands with a guy who hugged him in return. He introduced her and smiled easily enough. The man led them though a long hallway of muted música and the men on the door stamped their thumbs. Then the door opened and there was an overload of música and people, where it was obvious was filled to the brim. But the man continued to lead them on and finally up a stair. And as she walked up, her hand still in Tommy's, she felt almost all eyes on the dance floor and on the tables looking covetously at them. Another bonus for Tommy; he had connections.

When they were finally seated to their seat, she could not but compliment the man who had led them there, Benny, she recalled his name, who made himself scarce as soon as they said their pleasantries.

"I understand how you want me to see this place, Tommy. It's absolutely amazing," she smiled at his across the table. Everything about the place said class.

He smiled. "I'm glad. I'm just happy we can hear each other talk now. Downstairs is just kicking, huh?"

They talked easily enough and caught up. He was after all a very good friend and although she knew she had used him to get away from her place, she was actually having a good time talking to him. And after the third glass of vodka, vodca martini, she just knew she had to dance. He was becoming very familiar with her, holding her por the waist as they descended down the stairs and towards the dance floor. But she didn’t mind. Her mind was just fuzzy enough to let everything go easy.

Dancing was exhilarating after such a long time and she was having the time of her life. Lisa had been in the club scene ever since she was a teenager and she soon realized she was surrounded por friends. After a while of much dancing, she decided she needed a break and with a few of her friends headed to the bar. Tommy leaned down and whispered, telling her that he should go talk to some people and that he would find her at the bar. She did shots with her friends and was laughing at something someone had said when she felt a hand on her back.

Thinking it was Tommy, she slurred, "Heey, baby! That was fas…" the word caught in her mouth.

He stood there, with all his broken magnificence, sexy roughish features and perfect imperfections. He dared to give her a half lopsided smile which threatened to tear her world apart right there and then. "Hi," he said as if they had met so casually on a Tuesday afternoon stroll.

"What are you doing here?" was the first thing that came to her mind and out of her mouth. Her mind was too drunk to filter what she was saying.

He had to lean down and talk near her ear to know what he was saying. It sent chills down her spine. "A friend dragged me out. What about you?"

He was much too close for comfort and she could not really think with all the alcohol, or was it him?

por this time, the friend seguinte to Lisa turned to look at her and immediately recognized him. "Oh, my God! Hugh Laurie," she half screamed and all the other friends in a segundo clamoured around him. Lisa could see his discomfort at this recognition but she breathed a sigh of relief as he took a step back from her to accommodate the people around him.

"Lisa, why didn’t you say he was coming?" another friend reprimanded her, to which she could only give a small smile and say, "I didn’t know."

At this point, they were asking him if he was dancing, if he had a good time, if he would like a drink and how much they adored him all at the same time. Lisa's head was much too riddled to be a part of all this. What she wanted to do at that moment was run away from it all as far as she could. But she was grabbed por a friend and was excitedly talked to about how strange it was that they were there together that night. She managed a few laughs and smiles now and then and answered appropriately. Hugh was keenly observing her she could tell and for everyone's sake she had to fake some resemblance of joy at seeing him. So much of their relationship had been a part of their on screen tension that she could not, for the life of her differentiate whether the joy of seeing him was real or not.

But he was there, quietly and politely talking to the people around him. He very courteously answered their endless stream of perguntas and was looking mais and mais uncomfortable por the minute. She felt slightly sorry for him even though the way he had made her suffer all through the break still plagued her mind.

"Hey guys, let the man enjoy the night. I'm sure he came with other people to dance with," she smiled at them, trying to make the best out of the situation.

His dark eyes roamed her face, and she could see a shadow of gratefulness overlapped por a resemblance of pain and hurt. They smiled at each other, their eyes saying completely different things and finally he excused himself saying, "Lisa, would you cadastrar-se me for a drink?"

The immediate reply in her head was No! Dammit I will not cadastrar-se you for a drink after three weeks of silence. But she looked around at the smiles and expectant faces around and she heard herself say, "Sure. C'mon, we have a mesa, tabela upstairs."

His hand grazed hers as if he was going to hold it and both of their breathing stopped. She stopped all her movement entirely. He cleared his throat and looking around him nervously, he instead put his right hand on the small of her back and gestured with his left to lead the way. As they made their way up, no one spoke and the silence was becoming louder and louder as the noise from downstairs became mais and mais muted. They sat down opposite each other neither one able to look at each other straight in the eye. They ordered their drinks, a single malt double and a vodka, vodca martini.

There were sounds, noises, people everywhere but all she could hear was the drumming of his fingers on the mesa, tabela and all she could see was his hand on the table, his long perfect fingers and all she could think about was how it felt on her face, her neck and on her breasts, caressing greedily and down her stomach, her abdomen…

"How was your break?"

Her head shot up and she regretted it immediately because she was sure her pupils were diluted from her thoughts and she could see his eyes and facial expression change as soon as their eyes locked. But she couldn't look away now. That would seem week. She watched his head tilt to his left a bit as if the gesture could make her tremble mais than she was and watched his eyes changed from worried and nervous light blue to intense and hungry dark blue. He narrowed his eyes and his tongue came out to lick his lower lip. Yes, he was as nervous as she was.

"Fine," she said without looking away. "How was yours?" Her voice held her tightly closed anger and resentment and she was quite proud of the way it came out. The betrayal she felt for his neglect and her neediness did not show at all and she held her head high, not wanting to let herself be the first to fall.

He swallowed. He looked at her for a moment in silent resignation. Then he nodded and looked down. "Fine," he muttered. She would not have heard it if she hadn't listened to every of his coração beat.

Their drinks arrived promptly and Hugh smoothly put a few bills on the waiter's camisa pocket as he leaned down and quietly told him to keep it coming. They both drank greedily, as a distraction or they both needed it, she didn't know but anything was better than talking at the moment. But they had to talk. They were sitting down, face to face, and without talk, there was no saving grace for them.

"I heard you got back a few days ago," she began, her voice now lighter than it was before.

He opened his mouth as if to say something then closed it again. He leaned down on the table, his face now a few inches from hers and he nervously ran a hand through his hair. "I…I meant to call, Lisa. I just…"

"Oh, it's fine," she hushed him and smiled sweetly at him when she saw his surprise. "You didn't have to. You're gonna see me mais than you want to for the seguinte nine months," she even managed to laugh a little at that.

He was leaning too much for comfort and his eyes were studying hers much too closely that she was sure she would not be able to hold her fort down for long. But she kept her eyes on him. "Lisa, I…" he reached out his hand and held hers which had been cradling her drink.

But she instantly pulled away just as their skin touched. "I'm really happy you had a good time at home, Hugh," she looked at him then, her smile gone and her pain visible in her eyes. She was no longer hiding. She just needed to do the right thing for once in their relationship. "I'd never want to see you unhappy."

He was now in panic, she could see. His eyes darted forth, blinking rapidly as if mimicking the beating of his heart. "Are you…are you ending this?"

"Oh, we've both done that a billion times, let's not get cliché," she said flippantly. "But this particular time, you mean?" she acted surprised. "I thought you already did that before you left for London," she said as calmly as she could. "The news of your…" the right word failed her, "break only seemed to confirm it."

"Hey," he was getting worked up. "I never said anything about not wanting to go on. And my time in Londres was…it was…" he fumbled for words.

"What?" she challenged him. "Are you gonna tell me it was painful because all you could think about was me and that you never fucked her?"

His eyes narrowed and he bit down on his lips. He sighed and looked down.

At his reaction, she took a deep breath, trying to control her breathing and forcing the lump down her throat. "Tell me you didn't fuck her, Hugh," she pleaded with him for the first time that night.

Nervously, he ran his hand on his bearded chin and downed his drink. He looked away to his right, looking at the people around them.

She took a shuddering breath and it immediately made him look at her, pity in his eyes. And that was the last reaction she ever wanted from him. She laughed a hollow, angry laugh. "Well, don't you have balls buying your whore a drink in a public place?"

It was a slap to his face and he was so stunned at her comment that he only stared at her. And then his anger resonated and his eyes narrowed. He was not an angry man, in fact he was the most patient, caring, gentle person she had ever come across. But once in a while she saw glimpses of his repressed frustration and anger on set but it had never been directed at her. In fact, she had always been the one to calm him down. But sitting there, in front of him, watching his whole demeanour changed slightly worried her. She would have cringed had she been not so angry herself. "When have I ever made you feel like a whore?" Each of his syllable was pronounced. His lips thin with anger and his breathing laboured.

This was not the time to make a coward out of her and she was angry. "Oh, I don’t know," she said with fake nonchalance. "Only when you fuck me I guess, both of us knowing you don’t really want me for anything except for taking your load off. I think the society has a name for that. Let me think," she paused as if to muse on the name. then she looked directly at him. "Oh, yes, a whore."

"Fucking hell, Lisa," he fisted the mesa, tabela hard. "She's my wife! What the fuck do you want from me?"

If it wasn't for the loud music, she was sure that that would have made quite a scene, but no one seemed to really pay them much attention than the ones they've gotten for being famous. "I know she's your wife," her voice was acid. "You remind me all the time. And I am only here to entice you. You don’t think I see you stare at my body? Even tonight the first thing you did was look me up and down."

It was his time to laugh a dry laugh. "And now you want to fight about you being attractive?"

"That's not what I meant, Hugh. All I am to you is a sex object," she explained, her head starting to throb a little bit. "You want me. You like to fuck me. Don't you?"

"God Lisa! What do you want to hear? Yes," he threw his hands up in the air. "Yes, I want to fuck you. All the time. Is this what you want to hear?" he felt defeated. His voice was weak. "Do you want to analyze our relationship por dirty talk because I don't do that enough, is that it? Well, let me apologize" he leaned progressivo, para a frente again but he had lost that fight in him. All she could see was his tired eyes, still blazing blue from his anger. "Why won't I check you out tonight? You're wearing a dress so tight I can see you nipples hardening when I leaned down to talk to you. I noticed you aren't wearing a bra and I want to feel it in my hands, in my mouth, taste it with my tongue and teeth. Am I telling you what you want?" He was resolved to this and he wasn't going to back down even when she shook her head.

"No," she mumbled, her head hung low. Suddenly outdone por his vehemence.

"Oh, but I haven't gotten to the part where I want to fuck you," he continued. She learnt how cruel he could be. "Look at me," he said in quiet vehemence and she couldn’t do anything else but that. "I know that if you bent down just a little bit, I would be able to see the beginning of your bunda and that turns me on like crazy. I want to lift that tight dress up to your hips and…"

"Stop it," she looked away.

He no longer cared. "And touch you like you want me to touch you. I would not care about pulling down your panties because you are not wearing any. With a dress that tight, you wouldn't want any panty lines, would you? With you half dressed, revealed just where I want it, I would push you down to suck my cock, because that's what whores do, isn't it? What did you say before? I want you for nothing than to take my load off? Well, what better way is there other than you on your knees…"

"I said stop it!" she cried. Her tears were finally falling down her cheeks. Her cheeks were red not with anger but with embarrassment. A tiny bit of her was telling her that she drove him to say those horrible things, but to actually hear him say it was too much. She couldn’t look at him. She fumbled in her bolsa for a tissue and quietly she wiped her tears away, trying hard to make herself stop crying. She looked up when she had composed herself but averted her eyes from his. She looked around her surrounding for the first time since they talked and she was so relieved to see Tommy just a few feet away talking to a few friends that she let out a sigh of relief. Without another word, she took her bolsa and got up to go to him, but she felt a hand pulling her back.

"Lisa, Don't…don't go. I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't…"

She drew her hand away from him with a force she didn’t know she possessed. "I just sat through your apology. You'll forgive me if I don’t want to hear any mais of it."

He got up from his assento and stood seguinte to her. "Don't do this, Lisa. I didn't mean to say…"

"I think you've said enough to last us a lifetime," she cut him off. "I'm going início now with that person over there," she pointed to Tommy who had seen her and was now making his way over to them, a smile on his face. "At least he might pay me for going down on him," she added before he could reach them and before she smiled to Tommy she saw Hugh's whole face turn dark with rage.

She ran over to Tommy before he reached them and held his hand. "Let's get out of here," she said, her back to Hugh and her lips on Tommy's neck.

"Is that Hugh Laurie?" he asked suspiciously.

She thought best not to answer and whispered in his ears, "Take me home, Tommy."


He smiled down at her, his attention completely now in her. He held her hand tighter and kissed her temple. "C'mon then."