But I just said, “Very true. Thank god for dumb people though; you need someone to believe that you should drink a 2008 Riesling with a fucking KFC Double Down.”
Instead of an “oooh” like I had expected, there was a brief, stagnant pause while everyone collected their thoughts and then Seb and Dean erupted into hoots of laughter. Even Rebecca was snickering, despite the fact that it was her show too that I was insulting.
I looked over at Jenn for her reaction. Her cheeks were a bit pink and her eyes were glazed with a hard, almost icy exterior. But she put on a smile that rivaled my fake one earlier.
“Well played,” she admitted breezily, and went back to picking at her “meal.”
“For the record, Perry,” Rebecca said, reaching across the table and putting her soft white hand on top of mine. Her rounded maroon fingernails were mesmerizingly polished. “We know we cater to idiotic buggers. But I think what you and Dex are doing is really cool.”
Dex was still staring at that spot on the wall, like he was stuck in some weird freeze frame, so I looked as gracious as possible. “Thanks.”
“In fact,” she went on, “we were just talking about what a name you two have created for yourselves.”
Finally Dex brought himself to reality. “What do you mean?”
“You haven’t seen it?” she asked, exchanging a quick look with Dean.
“Seen what?” I asked. Dex looked as puzzled as I felt.
“There’s another ghost hunting show, called Spook Factory,” Dean explained. “Just like you guys. A guy, a girl, only they both claim to be ghost whisperers or whatever, and it’s exclusively online as part of that Fantasy Network. I’m surprised you missed that, Dex.”
“I’ve been moving,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
“Well, what…what have they done, have you watched it? Is it good?” I asked, feeling more than a bit icky about the whole Spook Factory thing. Copycats? Already?
“Yeah, I’ve watched it and it’s, like, OK. It’s total bullshit though. Both of them are just uneducated d-bags, but they look good, so people watch it. Their background is obviously in modeling and nothing else. No offense, Jenn.”
She looked at him sharply but didn’t offer any feedback. It wasn’t surprising at all to hear that Jenn got her start in modeling.
“Especially the guy in this case,” Rebecca said. “He looks like he should be in an Ed Hardy catalogue, and get this, his name is G.J. Jermaine”
I chuckled. “G.J.? That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”
“It stands for Geoff Jermaine,” Dean added.
“His name is Geoff Jermaine Jermaine? I stand corrected.”
Dex pulled out his iPhone and pulled up Google.
“What about the girl?” I asked. As if I wasn’t feeling competitive enough to begin with.
Rebecca shrugged and put her glossy hair back behind her ears. “Annie something. She looks like a blonde, frazzle-haired witch, so it’s fitting. But, you know, the show just started and they’ve been showing two episodes a week.”
“Annie Potterson,” Dex mumbled as he scrolled through the internet. He took his phone and placed it in front of me. “Here’s our competition.”
I looked down at the screen and felt bad for a second. Dex had lost his previous iPhone to the depths of the Haro Straight, along with his camera equipment. He obviously had to buy another one, straight out of his own pocket, and here he was showing me our rival ghost-hunting team, copycats, and apparent douchebags, who were already beating us at our own game. Two episodes a week?
Anyway, I only needed a quick glance to know what we were up against. Sure, Annie was slim with obvious fake boobs, but she had horrid unfeeling, dead eyes and crazy lady hair. A witch indeed. And G.J. looked like a G.J., a cross between Vin Diesel and a sandy-haired frat boy.
“What, does he go around kicking ghosts in the balls or something?” I was trying to make light of it but I could see Dex was deeply troubled by this.
“Ha. It’s kind of flattering though, right?” Rebecca said. “This only just started and it’s all because of you guys.”
“And they’re in town right now,” Dean put in.
“What?” Dex eked out slowly, his lip curling downward.
“Yeah. Their blog said they were in town to investigate the Harvard Exit Cinema in Capitol Hill.”
“What’s that?” I asked. Dex shook his head.
“Old news. One of the most haunted places in Seattle, but fuck, there’s been a fucking ton of ghost hunters and paranormal experts there. For decades. It’s nothing new and nobody finds anything.”
“Gee, I wonder why.” Jenn snickered to herself. Dex’s eyes flared dangerously but he was able to rein them in quickly and ignore her.
“If it makes you feel better, Jenn and I have competition of our own,” Rebecca said as she rapidly twirled her linguini around her fork.
“Oh yeah,” Dex said, leaning back in his chair. He took a quick sip of his drink and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. He looked at me. “A TV network has started Vintage Vixens. It hasn’t come out yet, we’ve just seen the ads for it. But it’s basically the same fucking idea.”
Ouch. Rebecca didn’t seem too bothered by it though.
“It was bound to happen. I don’t know what these new girls are like, but the fans that we have know us and like us, so I’m not too worried.”
Jenn neglected to put in her two cents. I was watching her expectantly but her face never changed. She just pushed the leaves around on her plate, off in her own little world. What a strange thing for all of us to be going through at the same time. All this competition, all these threats. And I wasn’t just thinking about the shows either. For the first time ever, it occurred to me that Jenn might actually be a bit threatened by little ol’ Perry.
The rest of the meal went along well. There were a few instances where Dex and I acted like we normally did, he teasing me, me retorting back, but it wasn’t until it was on display in front of the hosts of Gamer Room and Wine Babes, that I realized how inappropriate it was. It was harmless; I knew it was and was trying my hardest to make sure it came across that way, but it still made me worry a bit. Every time I even had the slightest inkling that he was flirting with me, I had to look at Jenn and see what she thought. On her end, though, she didn’t seem to think anything. She was very quiet, her mind elsewhere, gazing at people in the restaurant, and when she wasn’t, she was in a texting frenzy with someone. It was enough that Seb noticed.
“Your fingers are going to fall off, Jenn,” he said.
She looked up from her phone and smiled, perfect and easy as always.
“I’ve got magic fingers. Just ask Dex.”
The way she said it, in her throaty, low Scarlett Johansson purr, made me sick. I felt like slinking down into my chair and slithering down to the floor in a sad little puddle.
“She’s not kidding.” That was his sly response.
I was this close to flipping the table over. Ugh. I hated him. I hated her. And I hated Uncle Al for thinking that my heart needed to be broken. Well fuck t-
I felt a slight kick against my shin and looked up. Rebecca was looking at me, her eye in a half wink, seeming like she had something to say. She smiled at me, just a quick shudder on her lined lips, and then turned to Jenn.
“Is that Bradley again?” she asked.
Jenn looked officially annoyed for the first time today. It only lasted a second, but it was enough. That hard glaze reformed and I felt a spiteful energy shooting out from her pupils. But before anyone could pick up on it, her eyes were the pretty, soft hazel again and she was looking like a million, genetically blessed, bucks.
“Yes, you know Bradley. Always harassing me over the shooting schedule,” she told Rebecca, and then looked us all in the eye, including me.
“Bradley’s your cameraman?” I asked.
“He’s the guy who replaced me. The chump, I should say,” Dex said.
“It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it,” Rebecca said. “Now Bradley is the poor soul who has to fly to exotic locales with us broads.”
“And now Dex has to run around with me, with kelpmonsters, skinwalkers and leper zombies,” I said. “I think you traded in the wrong job.”
“Did I?” he questioned, peering into my eyes, already knowing the answer. His voice was warm and serious. I think he believed he had made the right choice; at least I hoped he did.
“Perry, you’re single right?” Rebecca asked, her clipped accent sounding innocent, but the question still made me squirm momentarily.
“Sure am,” I said, tearing my eyes away from Dex. I hated that question. It was usually followed by some pitiful look or false empathy, as if being single was a big, huge problem that shouldn’t have to befall someone like me. Or, it was followed with an offer of a set-up.
“Because I think you and Bradley would make a great pair.”
Bingo.
Dex choked on his drink and started sputtering for air. At the same time, Jenn cried out, “Are you kidding me? No way!”
I was surprised at both their reactions and I think they were too, because once Dex regained control of his throat, a tense, unspoken look went out between the couple.
“What?” Rebecca asked, now playing up an innocent look to match the tone. She turned to me, and said, “He’s very good-looking, Perry.”
“He’s way too old for her,” Jenn protested.
“How old is he?” I had to ask.
“Same age as me,” Dex said quickly. “And he’s a douche.” He picked up his straw and angrily chewed on the end. It was a change from his compulsive Nicorette chewing.
“And you know if Dex is calling someone a douche, he must be a real douche,” Dean said, grinning at us all.
“He is not a douche,” Jenn said with a disgusted grunt.
Rebecca laughed. “Well not to you, dear Jenny, of course not.”
I couldn’t tell if there was a thread of vindictiveness or something in her voice, since her accent made picking up on subtleties more difficult. But there was an odd, brief hush to the table, as if everyone noticed anyway. There was something weird going on, and because I was the outsider in the group, I didn’t know what it was.
“Why do you think we’d make a good pair? Or were you being sarcastic?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“When isn’t she sarcastic?” Seb said.
She yanked on his ponytail one more time. “Be that as it may, I do think Perry should meet Bradley.”
“She’ll meet him on Friday, at the party,” Dex said. “That will be enough.” And the way Dex ended that sentence signaled that no one would be talking about Bradley anymore.
After lunch wrapped up, Jenn drove us back to the apartment and dropped us off. She apparently had someplace to be and that was music to my ears. I had needed some time to just be alone with Dex, time to breathe.
“Wanna come for a walk?” he asked me as he opened the bathroom door and Fat Rabbit came bounding out, peppering us with excited woofs. I did, despite the weather.