Ryan opened the door, and an expression of surprise crossed his face when he saw Isabel wearing only her underwear. "Ryan!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you!"
The man who had given Isabel a ride followed her inside. "Hello, I'm Dave," he said conversationally. "Are you a friend of hers?"
"Uh, what's going on?"
"It's a long story," Isabel said. "You would not believe what I went through to get here. See, it all started when--" She stopped dead when a woman with wet, blonde hair and tan skin stepped out of Ryan's bathroom wearing only a towel. "Who's she?" both of them said simultaneously.
"Oh, man this is awkward," Ryan said to himself. "Look, this isn't what it looks like."
"It had better not be," the blonde said threateningly. "Because it looks like you tried to hire a prostitute while I was in the shower."
Isabel turned to Ryan in anger and horror. "Wait, are you cheating on me? I can't believe this! I come all this way, and I find you cheating on me?"
"Whose cheating on who?" the blonde shot back. "Ryan, you still haven't told me who she is!"
"I'm his girlfriend."
"Uh, yeah," Ryan said, wishing he were somewhere else. "About that..."
"Well? Who is she?"
"She's, well, she's my ex girlfriend."
"I'm your what?" Isabel demanded.
"Then what's she doing here?" the blonde asked.
"Well, I guess she didn't get the memo," he mumbled.
"Ryan, what are you talking about?" Isabel demanded. "I think I deserve an explanation."
"It's true, you do," Dave inserted. "I do too, by the way, but I can wait."
"Uh, well, do you remember the girl I was dating before I started dating you?" Ryan asked. "Well, Brittney and I got together again."
"You 'got together again?'" Isabel repeated. She turned to the blonde. "You're Brittney, his ex girlfriend?"
"I'm Brittney."
"And she's not really my ex anymore," Ryan said. "She's kind of my ex ex." He chuckled weakly.
"But she is the same girl that you always told was a--"
"Yes! Yes, her," Ryan interrupted.
"And also a total--"
"Yes! The one and the same! Well, it's good that we got that all cleared up, isn't it?" he said hopefully.
"Did it ever occur to you to actually tell me before you decided to break up with me?" Isabel asked sarcastically.
"I did!" Ryan protested. "I called you ten minutes ago and left a message and everything! It's not my fault if you didn't answer your phone."
"A message? That's it? A message? You can't go and just break up with someone through voice mail! And ten minutes ago I had already gotten my cell phone stolen! That's why I'm dressed like this, because the thief stole the rest of my clothes."
"Why'd he stop there?" Brittney sneered. "Did you scare him off with your open thighs?"
"Hey! Stay out of this, blondie, this isn't about you!"
Dave was still watching everything like it was an interesting television show. "Huh. And I just thought you were a prostitute."
"Gee, I wonder how you made that mistake," Brittney sneered.
"Unless you're in the mood to toy with death--"
"Okay, that's enough from everyone," Ryan called out, attempting to sound authoritative. "I understand that you've been through a lot, Isabel, and I don't want any hard feelings between us, so I'll tell you what. I'll lend you a coat you can wear, and I'll give you enough money to get home, and we can just let bygones be bygones, okay?"
Brittney laughed. "She'll probably lose the coat on the way home and end up dating the taxi driver."
Isabel clenched her fists. She should just take the money and the coat and go. That was the smart thing to do. If anyone deserved such a domineering royal pain, it was her gutless boyfriend. But what Isabel really wanted to do, in her heart of hearts, was to wring Brittney's neck until her eyes popped out.