Chapter 10: Another Breakup?

Author's Note: I am really sorry it has taken so long to update this. I have let other things distract me. Since I have many ideas for the next chapter, I hope I will be putting it up soon.

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Once she had begun thinking about Chandler, Rachel found it difficult to stop, and it was hard to get down to work that afternoon. Chandler's face, his eyes, his slightly crooked smile kept intruding on her thoughts, and she had to keep tearing herself away from memories of their one kiss. Luckily, Joanna seemed to be having a long lunch break, or she would undoubtedly have had something to say about her assistant's constant daydreaming. In fact, she did not return until 2.45. She swanned into the office smiling, acknowledged Sophie's greeting in a queenly but for once fairly amiable fashion, cast a glance at Rachel that seemed to be both patronising and triumphant, and then went into her office, leaving the door open. In a moment her voice could be heard loud and clear.

"Chandler! I just called to say, what a great lunch date that was. You're such fun!"

Rachel gritted her teeth.

"I just had an idea," Joanna went on in an arch voice. "Are you doing anything for dinner? Well, why don't you drop round? It won't be anything fancy, this is spur of the moment, but I'm sure I can rustle up something edible. Shall we say seven? Oh yes," she rattled off a Chelsea address. "See you then." A kissing sound was heard, and then the phone was replaced.

Rachel found she was gripping a pen so hard it was hurting her fingers. Momentarily she wished it were a sword, to run Joanna through with.

Sophie looked at Rachel sympathetically and went over as if to show her some papers. "She's being deliberately mean, isn't she?" she murmured. "You're interested in Chandler too, and she knows it?"

Rachel could not hide the truth. "Yeah," she said sadly, nodding. "It's all gone wrong." Even to say this much made her feel close to crying, but she did not want to give Joanna the satisfaction. Squaring her shoulders and blowing her nose firmly, she tried to concentrate on her work, and made some progress. But it was still a relief when it was time to leave and she could go back to the apartment and pour out her woes to Monica. By that time she had got over the immediate impulse to throw herself on her shoulder and burst into tears, and she was able to make Monica laugh with an exaggerated impression of Joanna's return to the office. But it was still hard to report her phone conversation with Chandler without breaking down.

Monica's face set in an expression of cold fury. "The utter bitch! God, you'd think a woman that age would be above such high school behaviour. 'I've got him and you haven't, nyah nyah!' Well, sweetie, why don't you have a nice cool drink and relax? Your first course is in the oven and we should be able to eat in about twenty minutes."

Rachel had been too concerned with her problems to notice. Now she sniffed the air.

"Ooh, Mon," she said in sudden elation, "it's not … stuffed mushrooms?"

Monica nodded, smiling at her sudden enthusiasm. "Funghi alla parmigiana, in restaurant speak. Nothing like good food to make things look better."

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A good deal later, Rachel sat back in her chair with a sigh of complete satisfaction.

"Stuffed mushrooms, linguine, and zabaione!" she said happily. "Mon, that was absolutely delicious, every mouthful. Your restaurant customers are gonna think they've died and gone to heaven. Thank you so much." She raised her wineglass in a toast.

Monica smiled at her vividly. She always liked having her cooking skills praised. "You deserve it, sweetie. You've gone along with my Chandler thing very patiently, and you've not thrown it up at me now that he's gone off after Queen Bitch Joanna." She shook her head. "I can't believe that will last. Um, talking of the restaurant, there's something I wanted to say." She looked down at the table and fiddled with her glass. "It's gonna take a lot of my time, and I mean a lot. I'm to be general manager as well as chef, so I'll be there long hours, especially to start with. I may not be feeling like doing much fancy cooking when I get home. But on the day we're closed I can do stuff, like preparing your favourites, for you to heat up." She looked at Rachel uneasily, knowing that in a sense she was not keeping her side of the bargain.

Rachel nodded. "It's your big break, honey. How about the apartment? Will you really have time to clean and stuff, the way you said?"

"Not as often as I do now," Monica acknowledged, "but I won't let it get dirty, and I will keep your room tidy. I've been working things out. Even if I'm there for the lunchtime shift, which I don't expect to be every day, I shouldn't have to leave very early, and I ought to be able to come back sometimes in the afternoon break."

Rachel drank some more. The food had been so great that she was feeling very well disposed towards Monica. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Breakfast in bed at the weekend would be nice, but as I haven't had to keep stalling Chandler as much or as long as I expected, well … let's just see how she goes. I'd feel guilty if you exhausted yourself."

"Just the idea of having my own restaurant makes me full of energy," said Monica enthusiastically. "Look, I've had an idea. Why don't you and the others come and eat at the restaurant my first night – my treat, of course? I can put you in the window, with Pheebs and Joey and Bonnie and Ross, so anyone can see it must be a good place, with such cool young people dining there." She grinned at Rachel. "If you dressed in your best, people might take you for an up-and-coming Hollywood actress and think they'd seen you in something."

Rachel beamed in appreciation of Monica's flattery. "Great idea, though I'm not sure Ross and Bonnie are gonna be together any more."

Monica sighed. "Yeah, that's right, I was forgetting what happened this morning. Well, maybe just you and Pheebs and Joey, then. You'd make a handsome group."

"Not Chandler?" said Rachel a little sadly. "He'd feel very left out."

"He'd want to bring Joanna, wouldn't he?" said Monica. "No way am I giving her free food."

"You could try inviting him on his own, saying you just wanted your particular friends," Rachel pointed out.

Monica could see that she wanted Chandler to be there, even if they were not dating, and felt sympathetic. "Okay, sweetie," she said. "I'll tell Joey to make it clear to Chandler, he's invited but she isn't. And I'll call Ross. Do you want some coffee?"

Rachel shook her head. "Maybe just a drop more wine would be nice."

There was little more than a drop each in the bottle. Monica emptied it and placed it by the sink ceremoniously.

"I hope this'll help me sleep," she said. "I'm gonna need a really clear head tomorrow, for my first day."

"Here's to your success!" said Rachel, draining her glass. Monica followed suit, and realised at once that it had made her a little drunk. She decided to start clearing the table, in hopes that being active would take the drunken feeling away, but once she had done so she collapsed onto the couch, and grinned ruefully at Rachel.

"Coffee would have been better," she said.

"Oh Mon, have I encouraged you into drunkenness?" said Rachel with fake remorse. She went and sat by her, patting her knee in a friendly way. They caught each other's eye and for a moment all the closeness and love between them was in their gaze. But then the mood was shattered as someone hammered on the door, on which Monica had put a notice "Private Party" to keep out the ever-hungry Joey.

Monica jumped up. "Who is it?" she called.

"Ishme!" shouted Ross, sounding drunk.

Hastily Monica went to unlock the door. Ross stumbled in.

"You're drunk!" Monica cried accusingly.

"Yeah, uh-huh," Ross said, collapsing on the couch and grinning goofily at Rachel. "Yer lookin' ve'y beaurifu' toni', Rayshel."

"Thank you, Ross," she said lightly. "What's brought this on?"

Ross frowned in an evident effort to think. "I'm, I'm … tryinarememmer," he produced first, then rubbed his forehead. "Oh, oh yeah," his face fell, "me 'n' Bonnie … we're, um, we're through." He sighed deeply.

"Oh Ross, I'm sorry," Rachel said. "Was it over that thing you said, about Chloe?"

Ross's face darkened. "Yeah. She took your shide, didnshe, an' she wouldn' back down. Then she tol' me I wash getting' borin'!" He sounded very indignant. "Sho I shaid we were through an' walked out onner. Bur I washn' happy aboudit, and sho I wentinnabar to cheer m'shelf up." He beamed at them. "Now I'm feelin' fine." He laid his head back against the top of the couch and closed his eyes.

"You won't be tomorrow," said Monica censoriously. "You'd better have some black coffee."

"Don' wan' coffee," said Ross petulantly, opening his eyes again. He rolled his head to grin at Rachel. "Wouldn' min' a kish, though."

Before Rachel could reply Monica said fiercely, "She is not kissing you in this state! Ross, I'm surprised at you."

"Why can' I have a kish?" said Ross. "Ev'yone elshe gorrakish – even Gunther." Now he seemed melancholy.

"Ross, that was just fooling around," said Rachel soothingly. "And we were drunk, though I have to say, not as drunk as you are now."

He nodded, and suddenly fixed his eyes on her, trying to look serious. "I made a mishtake," he said heavily. "Ve'y ve'y bad mishtake, an' I'm shorry. Rayshel, can we shtart again?"

Rachel could not help it; she burst out laughing. It seemed so ridiculous, to come out with it just like that. But she could not be offended; he was so drunk.

He looked at her in owlish surprise, which only made her laugh more.

"Wassho funny?" he said, looking a bit mad.

Rachel struggled to control herself. "It doesn't work like that, Ross," she said. "You can't turn me on and off like a tap. Now, let me get this straight: you walked out on Bonnie? She didn't tell you that it was over?"

Evidently trying to work out what she was getting at, he nodded. "Uh huh."

"Then this may still be salvageable," she said. "Call her, call her now, and tell her you're sorry. Say you got drunk because you were so sad about it. It might just work."

Monica, who had quietly got on with making coffee, gazed at Rachel with open mouth. If it had been Chandler she had been advising, it would have been no surprise; they tried to help Chandler with his generally chaotic love life. But Ross? She really must be over him, she thought.

Ross had come to the same conclusion. "You don' love me any more," he said mournfully.

"No, Ross, I don't," she said calmly. "I'm sorry, but it's all gone. I love you as my friend, but nothing more."

Whatever Ross might have been about to say was pre-empted when there was a knock on the door and Joey called, "Is it okay to come in?"

With an almost audible sigh of relief Monica called, "Yeah, come right in, Joey, and take down the notice."

Joey entered, and Ross turned his head to look at him. "Rayshel doeshn' love me any more," he said in tones of sorrow.

Joey's eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"Yeah," said Ross, sounding proud of it. "I'm drunk ash a shkunk." He giggled. "Shay, thash funny."

"It's been used before," said Monica acidly. "He's broken up with Bonnie," she informed Joey.

Comprehension dawned in Joey's eyes. "She dumped him?"

"No!" cried Ross, thumping his knee in emphasis. "I walked out onner, becaushe she didn' agree, Rayshel and me were onnabreak."

Joey groaned. "That old stuff! Ross, if you keep on bringing this up with any new girl, you'll never get anywhere with them. Let me tell you, first, they don't like to hear about your previous girlfriends, and second, they stick together."

"I still say, you ought to call her and apologise," said Rachel.

Ross shook his head slowly to and fro on the couch. "Don' wanna." He closed his eyes. "Wanna go shleep."

"Probably the best thing, if you won't drink coffee," said Monica quietly. "Lie down on the couch and I'll get some blankets and a pillow. But get your shoes off first!" she snapped.

Ross smiled, his eyes shut. "Shame ol' Monica." He reached down and clumsily pushed his shoes off, then relaxed.

He was asleep and had started to snore when the phone rang. It did not disturb him. Monica answered; it was Bonnie.

"Is Ross there?" she asked in a subdued voice.

"He is," said Monica, "but he's asleep. He got very drunk." Crossing her fingers behind her, she went on, "He was really sorry for walking out on you."

"I hear you," said Bonnie.

There was a pause, and Monica made a decision. If Bonnie was prepared to try to revive her relationship with Ross, maybe she should try to help her, though one more incident like the very tentative pass she had made at her and that would be it.

She said, "Listen, Bonnie, how would you like to come to my first night in my new restaurant, and dress the house with Phoebe and Rachel, maybe others? On me, of course. We could, um, try to get Ross to come too."

"Don't pressure him into anything," said Bonnie, "but I'd go anywhere for a free meal that you had cooked." She suddenly sounded enthusiastic.

"See you there, then," said Monica. She cut the connection and looked across at Joey. "You're invited too, Joey, but if you bring a girl, I think you should pay for her. Oh, and tell Chandler he's invited too – but not Joanna."

"What kind of food is it gonna be?" said Joey eagerly. "Will you be doing sixteen ounce steaks?"