The moisturizer and bath beads scatter on the counter. Janis stares at Regina, trying to sneer and taking a wrong turn at bug-eyed incredulity. Regina wants to scream that this is her Body Shop, and no lesbo freak can work here and ruin it for her. Damien cringes, hiding behind an orange-cranberry candle, eyes darting at their silent, paralysed tennis match. Regina snorts, throws money down, and flounces out with her bottles and bags.

"She remembers the kiss," Damien says after she's gone, while Janis stares after her.

Janis treats him to her patented Death Glare. "Yeah, well, I don't."

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November 25, 2004