Lying Season

Page 48


“How’s the party?” Rebecca asked.

“Lame. It’s too early, though you guys are some of the last ones to arrive,” he said, taking a puff of the cigarillo and passing it to Seb, who had so far remained quiet. Judging from the red glaze to his eyes, he was just probably very baked.

“Are Jenn and Dex here yet?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he thumbed now at the door. “They got here a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t know how they beat our cab,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “What about Bradley?”

“Not yet,” Dean said. “But Jimmy is here and he’s in a good mood, buying drinks for people. It’s not an open bar but at least the drinks are cheap and the food is free. As is the karaoke. But man, I wish they had a rule that you didn’t have to listen to it until you were good and drunk.”

He reached out and tapped me lightly on my shoulder. I was shaking in my spot, feeling the cold flakes land on my bare legs. Tights would have been smart.

“He’s looking forward to meeting you again,” he said to me.

I bet, I thought. “Shall we go inside? I’m dying a bit.”

Dean nodded and Seb tossed the smoke out onto a patch of snow that had just formed.

We walked into the restaurant, which was filled with patrons. It was somewhat fancy in that modern way, which meant white tablecloths, black napkins, weird fountains and artwork and lots of mirrors and glass. The waitresses were all dressed like hookers in black.

“We’ve got the room in the back,” Dean said over his shoulder, and we followed him past the main dining room, down a narrow corridor past the bathrooms and into a smaller, cozier space.

The design was the same but there were only about eight round tables with about two to six people at each one. There was an open buffet of appetizers; a small bar in the corner and in front of the room was a small stage where the karaoke machine was hooked up. The lyrics to “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” were playing on a screen behind it and some middle-aged man in a Hawaiian shirt was doing his best Elton John and/or George Michael impression. It wasn’t very good.

We all cringed in unison at the off-key wails and looked around the party. We spotted Dex and Jenn at the table near the back of the room. It was empty, which was sign enough that we should make our way over.

As we did so, every single head in the room turned to look at us. Most of the people I didn’t recognize at all, but they seemed to know me. They leaned in close to each other and whispered. I didn’t want to know what they were saying.

I stopped in front of Dex and Jenn. They were watching the guy perform and laughing at him, but Dex immediately stood up and pulled out a chair for me beside him.

I smiled quickly at him and sat down as neatly as possible, with Rebecca and Emily going beside me. Dean and Seb went and sat at the table next to us, beside Jimmy Kwan and his very pretty, very petite half-Asian wife. At least, that’s who I assumed it was. Jimmy was Korean-American and I knew he was married, despite the odds (not because he’s Korean, but because he’s a jerk).

I managed to stop staring at them before they looked over.

“How did you guys beat us here?” I asked, leaning closer to Dex.

“We bribed our cabbie. Like hell I’d let you drink the bar clean before I got here.”

“Right,” I said, and turned my attention back to the karaoke singer, who was almost – mercifully – done. “Who is that guy?”

“That’s Rick. He hosts a handyman show. There’s the whole home design and handy fucks table down by the stage there.”

He pointed at the table next to them, “That’s the whole Amanda Panda’s Animal Friends sector.”

He moved his finger over to the other side of the stage, where a bunch of long-haired dudes were. Despite the festive dress code, most were still wearing band T-shirts. They were all cheering and doing shots of dark booze.

“Crucial Taught?” I asked. “The Shitty Beatles?”

“Close. That’s Riff Raff. The show. That tall guy with the blonde mullet, he’s actually an awesome guitar player. Mick Stevens. Look him up. He could teach you a thing or two, if not just by watching the show.”

“I bet he could,” I said. “But so could you.”

Dex grinned at me and I felt my insides pulse.

“I could. But while I’m good, he’s one of the best.”

“Dex,” I heard a familiar voice say from behind us. I swiveled and looked up to Jimmy Kwan standing there, staring down at me expectantly.

“Jimmy,” Dex said and got up. I followed his lead and got up alongside him. I stuck my hand out for Jimmy. He just eyed it and frowned at me from underneath his spectacles.

“Perry Palomino?” he asked in a tight voice.

I raised my brows at Dex, who did the same in return as he sipped his Jack and Coke. Who else would I be?

“You look a lot different from our first meeting,” Jimmy continued. “And on the show.”

He stroked his chin, seeming to think while eyeing me up and down. OK, I looked different but I still looked like the same girl.


“She got all gussied up for you,” Dex said with his charming grin on display. He leaned in close to Jimmy and whispered in his ear. “Just don’t tell your wife.”

Jimmy chuckled, the first time I’d seen actual harmless amusement on his face. “Well I’m flattered.”

Great, can I sit down now? I thought. I felt awkward and I didn’t need to turn my head to know that other people in the room were looking at us.

“It’s nice to see you again, Jimmy,” I said, taking my hand back and looking him straight through his glasses. “I hope the way you’re ogling me means you’re going to start paying me more.”

Dex burst out in shocked laughter, choking on his drink while Jenn and Rebecca let out a low gasp. I watched Jimmy carefully, wondering if he was going to fire me on the spot for being a smartass.

Instead he smiled, broadly, showing misshapen teeth, and reached over and patted me hard on the arm.

“I like you better already,” he said with a laugh as looked over at Dex, who was trying to get his cough under control. “Good job with her, Dex. You’re corrupting bright young women everywhere.”

“That’s not my doing,” Dex managed to say, setting his drink down and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit jacket. “That’s the real her coming out.”

I shrugged and tried to look nonplussed, though I was also kicking myself for being so risky with my words. Just because it worked with Dex, it didn’t mean it worked with me. Though perhaps this really was me. And it had worked.

“Well, whatever it is,” Jimmy said. “I’m glad to meet you again, Perry. Welcome to the Shownet family. We’re lucky to have you.”

I smiled graciously and shot Dex a shy smile. “And I’m lucky to have Dex here.”

Believe it or not, Dex actually blushed for the first time ever. It was amazingly cute. I sensed Jenn shifting uncomfortably on the other side of him.

Jimmy gave us both an odd look, his attention shifting between us, as if he was trying to suss out our real relationship with each other. Good luck with that. Even I didn’t know at this point.

“Well, we are lucky to have Dex, too,” Jimmy said, and then fixed his eyes on him. “By the way, Dex, do you have a friend called Maximus?”

Both Dex and I perked up.

“Max?” Dex asked. “Yes, why?”

He shot me a nervous glance and I shrugged, just as intrigued as he was.

“He called me the other day, said you two were friends,” Jimmy explained. “He said he was moving to Portland, God knows why, and was wondering if I needed his services.”

“Portland?” I repeated at the same time Dex said “Services?”

Jimmy shrugged. “I think he had an idea for a show. He said you guys were at NYU, I don’t know I couldn’t really understand his accent. He mentioned something about helping you in Red Fox. I haven’t called him back yet; I just wanted to make sure he’s legit.”

I watched Dex closely. He rubbed at his sideburn and smiled hesitantly. “Yeah, he’s legit…”

Jimmy put his hand on Dex’s shoulder and said, “We’ll talk about this on Monday. By the way, I saw what you shot at the institute. Good stuff. Both of you.”

He turned and went back to his table, leaving Dex and me staring at each other.

“Well, Maximus did mention he might move to the Pacific Northwest,” I pointed out.

“True,” Dex said slowly.

While we were thinking that over, the MC for the night took over the mic and told us the karaoke machine was going on a break and that a dance floor would be forming behind our table. Everyone got up and pushed the table in closer to the others. As we did so, and as a makeshift DJ started pumping out hits from a Mac, Bradley entered the room.

It was hard not to stare at him. He was so tall and handsome, especially with his fashionable five o’ clock shadow and the way his golden highlighted hair set off his blue eyes. His pinstriped navy suit was snazzy too, and made him look a million times richer than anyone in the room, which was ultimately his point.

Everyone at our table was still standing up when he came over. He gave us a short wave and a jackass grin.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said in his smooth voice. He pulled out his chair without hesitation and sat down right beside Jenn. I looked at Rebecca and Emily, who were as tense and wide-eyed as I was. I don’t think any of us could believe his nerve, going straight for his fuck buddy.

Dex couldn’t believe it either. I watched as his hands tightened over the top of his chair, his knuckles turning a bluish white. I waited for him to lift the chair above his head and ram it into Bradley’s head.

To his credit though, he didn’t, even though I saw his eyes sparking, projecting his patented death glare. I took my hand and gently poked him in the side. He jumped and looked down at me. I smiled sympathetically. He bit his lip, looked back at the two and then quickly muttered, “I’m going to get a shot.”

I watched him walk off as Rebecca got out of her chair and hurried after him.

“Wait for me,” she called.

I eyed Jenn, who had now sat back down beside Bradley. I wanted to flip the entire table over. I could see it all in my head, the drinks flying in the air and covering her from head to toe.

I felt a hand at my elbow, bringing me back to reality, and turned to see Dean standing there. He pushed his glasses up further on his nose.

“Care to dance, Perry?” he asked with the tiniest hint of trepidation.

“What?” I said, surprised. His face fell a tiny bit. “No, I mean, of course. I just can’t dance too well in these heels. Or, like, ever.”

Dean smiled and exhaled at the same time, his teeth white against his cocoa skin. “Good, I can’t dance in general, so you’re in good company.”

I let him lead me to the dance floor, which was quickly filling up with people as a re-mixed version of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back” just started playing over the speakers. I think everyone was just grateful for something else to listen to than god-awful karaoke.

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