He greeted her serenely as she flung open the door, noting her smeared lipstick and rumpled clothes.

Tanya slammed the door shut violently, and projected her broken stiletto across the room violently.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, darling, because you are wasting your time. You can’t get rid of me that easily… I don’t really care how many idiots you screw,” the man said, lounging casually on the couch and flipping through a leather bound portfolio.

Fury distorted her face for a moment, but then she calmed herself. “Darren, I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

He snorted. “No, you’re not.”

“I am. It isn’t yours.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me when you’re finished. I want to take you out for breakfast.”

The man turned back to his leather portfolio and shuffled through papers, appearing to be engaged in a level of deepest concentration.

“I have aids,” she said, her eyes wide and serious.

“You don’t. Go take a shower, darling. I love you.”

“I don’t love you,” she asserted weakly.

“You do.”

Tanya burst into frantic sobs and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Watching with amusement, Darren smiled as he returned to his paperwork.