Fair Play by Deirdre Martin

explain in a minute. Do you have any forks?”
    â€œSure.” Janna opened her lower desk drawer and pulled out two plastic ones from a box she kept there while Theresa dragged a chair over to the desk. Janna handed Theresa a fork and they both dug in.
    â€œMmm, this is outrageous,” Janna murmured, gulping down some coffee. “Theresa, you have to handle Robert. Please. I cannot sit down and listen to him talk for hours about his struggle as an artiste. I’ll put a bullet in my brain, you know I will.” She slumped in her chair. “I can’t believe Aegis is going to publish him. He’s awful.”
    â€œI remember,” Theresa said, taking another bite. “Maybe he’s improved?”
    â€œMaybe.” Janna ate some more. Theresa didn’t blame her. It was that good. Plus, the prospect of dealing with Robert—“Call me Ro- bear ”—Turner could drive anyone to stress eating.
    â€œWhat do you want me to do?” Theresa asked.
    Janna took another forkful. “I guess you’d better call him back and set up an appointment.”
    â€œAnd what do I get in exchange for this incredible act of kindness?”
    â€œMy undying gratitude.”
    â€œAnd—?”
    â€œI’ll let you finish this tiramisu.” Janna threw her fork into the garbage. “What’s the mystery behind this heavenly pastry?”
    Theresa heaved a sigh. “It’s from Michael Dante.”
    â€œHe sent this?” Janna went misty-eyed. “That is so romantic.”
    â€œWhat?” Theresa scoffed. She’d show Janna how romantic it was. She proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale of how Michael had taken advantage of her parents, weaseling a dinner invitation by bringing them a plate of food from the restaurant. She did not tell Janna how she almost fell back into her old habit of mindless flirting as they walked to the train station. Janna would latch on to that like a terrier on a plump, juicy ankle. When she was done, she sat back triumphantly.
    â€œI think you’re wrong about Michael,” Janna said quietly.
    Theresa blinked. She had fully expected Janna to agree that it was wrong of Michael to surprise her like that at her parents’ home. “ Excuse me?”
    â€œI know him better than you, Ter, and I’m sure his bringing food to your folks was completely on the level.”
    â€œHe admitted he was hoping they’d put in a good word for him!”
    â€œWell, he’s honest. But he has a big heart. Ty once found him giving out care packages of ziti to some of the homeless guys who congregate around the entrance to Penn Station.”
    â€œSo nominate him for sainthood,” Theresa interrupted.
    â€œHe’s no saint, that’s for sure. He’s got a wicked temper.”
    â€œTell me about it. I thought his head was going to pop off on the train platform when I told him I don’t date Italian guys.”
    â€œI don’t blame him.”
    Theresa’s heart sank in dismay. “You’re supposed to be supportive of me, not him. That’s what best friends do.”
    â€œYou’re being arbitrary and unfair. One cup of coffee with Michael Dante wouldn’t kill you.”
    â€œYes, it would. Besides, he’s a client. I want this relationship to remain strictly professional, thank you.”
    â€œYou mean like mine and Ty’s did?” Janna asked, eyeing the last small bite of cake. Theresa pushed the box to Janna and handed over her fork.
    â€œYou and Ty were different,” said Theresa.
    â€œHow?”
    â€œYou liked Ty. I don’t like Michael.” I won’t let myself, she added in her head.
    â€œBut you like that he sent you a present,” Janna crooned.
    â€œShut up, will you, please?” Theresa said with a sigh. This whole exchange was reminding her of a bad after-school special, teenage girls teasing each other into revealing secret