We got out of the car and she pointed up at what looked like a downtown mall. We were on the corner of Pike and 5th, amongst office workers out on their lunch break, shielding themselves from the rain with a multitude of overused umbrellas. There were retail stores everywhere, from Anthropologie to All Saints. My sister would have gone nuts here.

“Hey,” I said to Rebecca as she locked the car and we quickly walked down to the lights to cross the street. “I’ve got a gift certificate for this Designer Shoe House or something, is there one around here?”

She nodded and pointed down the block. “Just down there. Want to do some shoe shopping after lunch?”

I nodded. “I don’t have any nice shoes for the Christmas party. I mean, I thought I did but my sister said they looked Amish.”

I looked down at Rebecca’s shoes as they stood poised in the falling rain. Of course they were as high as hell, as shiny as her belt and as maroon as her hat, lips and nails.

“Not a problem,” she smiled and she looked soft again. I could also see she was being sincere, which started to put me at ease. That was the one thing missing from all of Jenn’s perfect smiles: Sincerity.

We went up a few floors in an office building cum mall and ended up at a spread-out restaurant and bar that was named after me. Or my last name at least.

I chuckled as the perky waitress led us to our table. “Have you been here before?” I asked Rebecca, thinking it was just for me.

“Actually, yes,” she said as we took our seats and took the menus from the waitress. “Work isn’t too far from here so we sometimes come here after meetings. Best happy hours ever and we all need one or five after dealing with Jimmy.”

I leaned forward on my elbows and looked at her. I couldn’t help but smile like a goof. It finally occurred to me that I actually had a job with co-workers who were interesting and seemed somewhat interested in me. I didn’t know much about Shownet, obviously, due to geographic restrictions, but I couldn’t get over the fact how nice it was to be able to talk to someone about it, someone who wasn’t Dex. Sometimes I got the impression that Dex was trying to keep me separate from that world, even though it was the world that gave me a meager paycheck every two weeks and broadcasted my fat, scared face to the entire planet.

Sensing this, maybe, Rebecca put her hand out on mine and held it there. “This is my treat. Don’t worry about what to eat and what not to eat. I’m really glad you decided to come out today.”

I straightened up in my seat and blushed again. “Well, thank you. I was nervous…I thought maybe you didn’t like me.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, patting my hand and then returning her attention to the menu. “Dex told me you felt that way.”

I sighed. It figured. She lowered the menu and peered at me. “I knew if Dex liked you, I mean seriously liked you as he does, then I would like you too. We don’t disagree on too many things.”

There was way too much in that sentence. What did “seriously liked you” mean and what else could she tell me? Having Rebecca here reminded me of having Maximus at my disposal in Red Fox, except Rebecca didn’t seem to have a hidden agenda and would just tell me whatever I needed to know.

I took in a deep breath and brought my attention to the drink menu. Part of me wanted to just enjoy the company and the free food and learn something about my partner if it came up. The other part wanted to spend the next hour asking Rebecca question upon question about the man I was in love with, even though I was desperately trying not to.

“They do a really good dirty martini here,” she said. “It’s strong.”

“It’s lunchtime,” I said, noting how early it was for martinis.

She raised her threaded brow. “You need it.”

Did I? She was the one who was high. Maybe she needed me to catch up. But I nodded anyway, and soon we had two of them coming, along with hearty salads.

When our martinis came, we clinked over the table. I avoided her eyes even though I could feel hers boring into mine, trying to figure me out or work through my secrets in a telepathic way. Her cold, dark eyes were so unnerving at times that I wouldn’t have put it past her. In some other lifetime, she could have been a vampire or a witch. But one of the sexy ones.

“So how do you like working on the Dex Files?” she asked after taking a small sip of her martini, her lips leaving a red mark on the glass.

I laughed at the ‘Dex Files’. “That’s a good one. I like it just fine.”

“Just fine? Oh darling, this isn’t a job interview here. Look, Dex is a dear. I love him very much, as much as anyone can, perhaps, but you can be honest with me. I’m not here because of Dex. I’m here because I just wanted to know you better. You seem familiar to me in some strange way.”

I felt the same way about her but I didn’t voice it. It wasn’t that I knew her, I knew I didn’t, but there was something strangely comforting underneath the slightly awkward situation. It was hard to explain and if I did try to explain it to myself, the best I would come up with was again how much like Dex she was. Only she was honest.

I took a gulp of my drink for courage, enjoying the salty brine as it slipped down my throat while fiddling with the stack of olives in the glass.

“I like working on the show,” I admitted. “I mean, I love it. Sometimes. I love feeling like I’m doing something that I’m good at…even though it’s not really a skill anyone would acknowledge. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. But I’m grateful that I have this. It’s so much better than working reception, what I was doing before. I’m happier now.”

She was watching me, chin resting on her hands. “And you and Dex?”

“What about us?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious. I started stabbing the olives with the stick, spearing them and re-spearing them.

“What’s the deal with you?”

“There is no deal. We’re just partners.”

“Are you sure? Because we all have bets on whether you guys are banging each other or not.”

My jaw dropped and my stick missed the last olive, causing it to ricochet out of the glass and onto the table.

She quickly reached over and plopped the renegade olive into her mouth. She smiled at me between chews, breezy and innocent.

“We aren’t…banging,” I protested.

“I know darling, I’m just teasing,” she said and raised her glass at me.

My eyes shot to the heavens again. “You are just like him.”

“Oh we’ve heard that before. You know he asked me out before he asked Jenn out.”

“Oh?” I said. I didn’t want to sound too interested but it was really hard.

“Well, I shouldn’t say ‘ask out’, that sounds terribly stodgy. He did ask me out but he and Jenn were just a sweaty, shagging mess before anything serious came-”

“That’s OK, I got it,” I said, raising my hand briefly.

A smile twitched on her lips and she cocked her head to the side. She was silent for a few moments, watching me, nothing but sympathy on her face. It wasn’t pity, which I appreciated.

She put one of her olives in her mouth and used the end of the stick to twirl the thick liquid in the glass. “Three…maybe four years ago, when we first started the show…Dex asked me out. He was strangely arrogant and shy at the same time. He’d been flirting with me and I suppose I had given him the impression I was flirting with him. I wasn’t. I mean, I was, yes, but not to mean anything. We all do that. Dex does. All the time.”

My heart creaked a bit at the thought that perhaps that’s all it was with me. It must have shown on my face, I knew my brow was tight, because Rebecca leaned in closer to get my attention.

“I know you know this, but just listen,” she said in a confiding tone. “He asked me out. I turned him down. He wasn’t my type.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. She seemed like a female version of him, to a tee.

“I’m not into men, Perry,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” I replied stupidly. A louder one followed when I realized what she was saying. She was a lesbian. My God, I hadn’t picked up on that at all.

“It’s because I don’t fit the stereotype,” she continued. “And I’m fine with it but so many people expect you to be a Butch. That’s so not the way it is. But then again, I get flack for being the way I am, even within the gay community, so whatever, fuck them.”

I nodded, intrigued, and more at ease. Sounds dumb, but it helped to know she wasn’t interested in Dex. Jenn I could handle in a way, but Rebecca and Dex would be too much.

“Then he went after Jenn. I think because I was his first choice, Jenn had it in for me ever since.”

“Had it in for you?” I repeated.

“Jenn’s a cunt,” she said.

I choked on the martini and half of it threatened to come up my nose. The waitress chose that time to come by with our salads and stared at me curiously. I waved at her to let her know I was OK, while Rebecca ordered us more drinks.

When I recovered, I wiped my mouth and turned to her. “I’m sorry. Jenn’s a…you don’t like Jenn?”

She looked at me as if I was crazy. “I fucking hate her. Everyone hates her. She’s not as innocent and docile as you might think.”

Actually I never thought Jenn was any of those things. I t was just so surprising to hear. The Wine Babes didn’t get along.

“I’m just…wow,” I said, putting the napkin back down.

“Oh, I know. Anyway. This is why we all have bets on you guys.”

“Bets? On Dex and me? What happened to wanting to set me up with this Bradley fellow?”

“Oh, I lied. Bradley is an asshole. I had a theory.”

We all seemed to have theories these days. Theories based on lies. “What theory?”

She stuck the final olive in her mouth and held it between her teeth for a few moments before biting it in half. “Just a theory. Anyway, Dean and Seb and I have a bet as to whether you guys have shagged yet. But I can tell now that you haven’t.”

“Is that why you invited me out for lunch?”

“Oh, Perry. Why are you so paranoid? Of course not.”

I shrugged and downed the rest of my drink, more than ready for another one.

“Look, we are all on your side here.”

“What makes you think I want Dex…in that way,” I said, looking her straight in the eyes.

Her forehead rose, the top of her hat lifting a bit from the movement. “Oh…well, it’s obvious, dear.”

I sighed again, long and hard and wished the waitress would hurry back. “How obvious?”

“It’s obvious to me. And that’s because I’m intuitive and can…see a lot. It’s obvious if you know what you are looking for. It’s in the glances you give each other, and the glances you don’t give each other. It’s in how you speak to each other and what you don’t say.”