“Strip club time! Who else is in?” Dillon or Dale points at each of us around the table in turn, and we all decline with various levels of firmness.
Howard, who’s now using his napkin to scrub at his streaming eyes and drippy nose, stands to follow them.
“Does this mean you’re still considering investing in our… our…”
His face contorts in pain, and drops his napkin to frantically claw at his eyelids and nostrils.
“Oh my god. Oh my god!” With a bellowed, “Fuck!” he bolts for the restroom.
“That is it.” Bethany tosses her napkin onto the plate. “The birds were already a problem, but this…” She waves at the bathroom door. “I’ve seen enough. My bank will not be investing in this venture, and I suggest the rest of you think long and hard if you’re still considering it.”
Gerry watches her go, then pops one final bite of cake in her mouth.
“Chili and chocolate with just the right amount of heat,” she says placidly. “Flavortown indeed.”
I use Bethany’s dramatic exit and the resumption of the polka-tinged holiday music to slip back to the table with all my friends. CJ hasn’t been kissed in at least twenty minutes, and that simply cannot stand.
Twenty-One
Now
CJ
* * *
Wyatt slides back into the seat next to me, and I shift my chair closer so I can lean into him like we’ve been partners at corporate dinners for years.
Of course, none of those corporate dinners involved a performance that left an entire room shell-shocked.
“Why do you all look like survivors of war?” Wyatt asks.
Sebastian blinks and shakes his head like he’s trying to fling water out of ears. “We have all been forever changed by that performance.”
“Right?” Wyatt laughs. “I’ll share the entire YouTube playlist for the Little Beau Pipes. Every piece is more chilling than the last.”
Gabe’s eyes widen in horror. “Dude, if you do, I swear to god…”
“More importantly,” I say, “What the hell did you do to Howard?”
He nuzzles my cheek. Nuzzles it! Who knew Wyatt Jones was a nuzzler?
“It’s what you did, I think,” he says. “What are the odds that traces of hot peppers ended up on Howard’s napkin over the course of the night, and when he used it to wipe his eyes and nose just now, those traces went places no traces should go?”
I clap my hands over my mouth in delight. “Um yeah, Dr. Suess, the chances are really good. Gosh, that must hurt.” Of course, I relish it. “Hope he doesn’t rub his eyes trying to get it out. That’ll just spread the capsaicin around even more.”
“Oh, he was rubbing,” Wyatt assures me.
We’re laughing in victory when I hear the voice that’s dogged me like the lingering stench of durian fruit for years.
“Oh, come on,” I groan. “I’m having such a nice night.”
“Too late to crawl under the table,” he murmurs in my ear.
Reese’s lasers have in fact found their target, and she’s got us locked in her sights.
“You’re still broken up, right?” My whisper’s urgent as she bears down on us.
“Extremely,” he says.
