No, this is Charlotte York territory, less the fantasy wardrobe. And less one apartment, actually, since I walked out on Luke the Lying Cheating Bastard (formerly known as the Sexiest Journalist on the Planet). My new flatmate is the ultimate party girl who's cornered the market on booze and boy toys. Just the person to cheer me up-and possibly get me arrested…
Yeah, I hate it when that happins. The ex in question is Alex. The ''friend'' is Desdemona, she of the gorgeous everything and toxic double entendres. Example: '' Alex is a man of many talents '' translates to '' He's also a fantastic shah and right after you've gone we are going to enjoy a night of wild and rampant gourmet sex commencing right up against the kitchen wall. '' Ouch. Perhaps I'd be better off focusing on work…