Freddie laughs, pointing at the screen. “Yo. Doesn’t that contestant look exactly like Patty?”
Peter squints. “The one on the end? Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Who’s Patty?” Eden asks.
“She used to work with us,” Rina explains. “She was our old sous chef. Total badass. The one before Mitchell.”
“Mitchell?”
“He’s the one you replaced.”
“Oh. What happened to her?”
“She quit,” says Freddie, leaning back to rest against Rina’s knees.
“In the most spectacular fashion, too,” Peter adds with a grin. “You should have seen it, Eden. It was like something out of a movie. A glorious trash fire I couldn’t look away from. Damn near burned my retinas.”
“What happened?” she asks.
“Alexander’s what happened. Patty was probably one of the only people not afraid to challenge him. I think they got into an argument about the French onion soup—”
“It was the quiche, Lorraine,” Freddie corrects. He looks off into the distance, clearly haunted. “I’ll never forget.”
“Sure. The quiche. Anyways, they had a huge fight right in front of all of us.”
“Should have grabbed some popcorn,” Rina says with a chuckle. “It was amazing.”
“They really got into it,” continues Peter. “They were so loud, some of the patrons out front actually called the cops.”
Eden swallows. “Gosh, that’s awful.”
“No, it was spectacular,” Peter says, dramatically waving his hands in the air. “Patty gave him a piece of her mind. Called him a prick to his face. ‘An unfeeling, pretentious asshole whose food is unoriginal and overpriced.’ I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Eden grimaces. “That seems... harsh.”
Freddie shakes his head. “You’re sweet, Eden, but you don’t need to defend the second coming of the devil.”
Peter and Rina laugh, like it’s an inside joke. Eden doesn’t think it’s particularly funny, but only because she knows.
He wasn’t always like this.
They don’t dwell on the subject for much longer once the game show starts. Freddie, Peter, and Rina waste no time yelling answers at the screen. Eden joins them, chiming in only when she knows she has the right answer. Freddie makes wild guesses and gets lucky half the time. Peter answers every single time, but he’s rarely right. Rina thinks aloud before answering, or outright admits that she doesn’t know.
It’s actually a lot of fun. Eden can’t remember the last time she hung out for the sake of hanging out. It’s surprisingly easy to be around them.
The first commercial break rolls around just in time for the food to arrive. Peter is the one who answers the door, and he eventually returns with three separate bags crammed full of greasy fast food.
Eden is ravenous.
They talk while they eat, occasionally making fun of the over-the-top gum commercial that plays twice in a row. Why does an ad for chewing gum need to be so damn cinematic?
“So,” Rina says, practically slurping the meat clean off her hot wing. “Where did you go to culinary school, Eden?”
“Gagnon-Allard,” Eden answers stiffly, deliberately stuffing her mouth full of chow mein so that she doesn’t have to elaborate.
“Just like His Majesty, huh?” Peter chimes. “Glad you didn’t come out of there like a tyrant, too.”
“What about you guys?” Eden asks, hoping to take the spotlight off of her.
