“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 f**k, there’s been a f**king 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 f**king 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 f**k 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.”