He spun the chair around again. "You should come see it. A bunch of the other staff is. It'll be the greatest night of your life."
"I don't know. I've had a lot of great nights."
"Second best then. Unless you're thinking of joining my groupies. I'd let you be their leader, you know. You could always have first dibs on me."
I rolled my eyes, then turned pensive as the sex jokes reminded me of my recent Seth issues.
"Hey Doug, do you think men and women can date without having sex?"
He had been tipping way back in the chair and suddenly snapped forward. "Oh my God. You are thinking of joining the groupies."
"I'm serious. Two people dating without sex. Fact or fantasy?"
"Okay, okay. For how long? A week?"
"No. Like, months."
"Are they Amish?"
"No."
"Are they ugly?"
"Er, no."
"No."
"No what?"
"No, they can't do it. Not in this day and age. Why do you want to know?"
"No reason."
He cut me an arch look. "Of course not." He didn't know about Seth and me, but he did know me.
Our phone's intercom came to life just then, asking for backup on the registers.
"Paper rock scissors?" Doug asked, spinning the chair around again.
"Nah, I'll go. I should make up for my tardiness. Besides, I think you need to come down from your caffeine high. Or your megalomania high. Not sure which."
He flashed me a grin and turned to the paused game of Tetris on our shared computer.
Truthfully, I didn't mind going out anyway. I worked for the fun of it, not the money. Immortality was long, and vocation and daily work sort of regulated human existence, even if I wasn't technically human anymore. It just felt right to be doing something, and unlike so many other unfortunate souls in this world, I actually liked what I did for a living.
I checked in on Seth a few times as I worked throughout the day, drank a lot of white-chocolate mochas, and dealt with what was becoming a heavy flow of business as the holiday season grew ever closer. At one point, I finally did have to pull Doug out with me. I found him in our office, still playingTetris.
I opened my mouth to make a joke about his work ethic and then caught sight of the computer screen. He played Tetris on a regular basis, so I was familiar with the game and his prowess, but what I saw now blew my mind. His score was the highest I'd ever seen, and he was at such an advanced level now that the pieces zoomed down the screen. I couldn't follow them. Yet, he caught and placed them all, never missing a beat.
"My God," I muttered. There was no way his hands and reflexes could be responding like that. The computer would probably implode at any moment. "I guess everything really is clicking into place for you lately. "
He laughed, either at my pun or my astonishment. "Need me out there?"
"Yeah…though it seems so wasteful now compared to this…mastery. Like interrupting Michelangelo."
Doug shrugged obligingly, shut down the game, and followed me out. I think the computer was relieved. He and I worked together cheerfully for the rest of my shift. His good mood over the band's success kept him chipper and lively, making the day fly by. When it was time for me to go, I offered to close for him since he'd had to come in unexpectedly early. He waved me off.
"Forget about it. Go do something fun tonight."
As I was leaving the store, I passed a rack of magazines and saw a copy of the latest issue of American Mystery. In big letters, one of the headlines read: Cady and O'Neill Return! Seth Mortensen gives us an exclusive novella.
Eek. What a bad girlfriend I was. Seth had told me about this story's upcoming appearance, and I'd completely forgotten about it. It had just come out yesterday. Apparently being with him regularly was distracting me from his art. Before the publication of his last novel, I'd literally marked off days on my calendar until its release. Longing washed over me, but I knew I couldn't read this story tonight. Bastien had left me a cell phone message saying he'd stop by my place later, and I had a feeling he'd distract me for most of the evening.
Tomorrow, I promised myself. I'd read the story tomorrow.
I'd just settled in back home when Bastien showed up bearing Thai food.
"How was the literary world today?" he asked as we had a picnic on my living room floor. Aubrey watched sharply from a discreet distance, her eyes fixed covetously on a container of green curry. Pad Thai did nothing for her.
"Weird," I reflected, recalling sleeping in late, Doug's behavior, and the frenetic pace of early holiday shopping. "Yours?"
It was clear from his expression he'd been dying to tell me this from the moment he'd cleared my door.
"Fantastic. I moved into the house today. You should see the neighborhood. It's the American Dream and then some. Big appliances. Manicured lawns. Three-car garages."
"Three cars? Do you even have a car?"
"Sure do. Company car."
"Hmphf. No one ever gave me a company car."
"That's because you aren't on the verge of the Seduction of the Century. I even met her already."
"Dana?"
"First day, and she comes to me! Can you believe it? It's like I don't even have to do anything. This operation just runs itself. I am its tool. Its plaything even—or rather, Dana's plaything."
"I don't know about that," I noted dryly, "unless you're going to add that she jumped on you and ripped your clothes off today too."
"Well, no. She actually just came by to welcome me to the neighborhood. But, she did also invite me to a party she's hosting. 'A Barbecue in November.' Charming, huh?"
"Adorable. Nothing I love better than eating hot dogs in the cold."
He elbowed me. "It's a theme, Fleur . It's fun. And it's all indoors. You know, you're turning into a regular cynic lately."
"Not cynical. Just still skeptical of this whole thing. It seems overly elaborate for what it is. A lot of work for one lay."
"One lay?" He tsked me and shook his head. "Let me see your laptop."
I retrieved it from my bedroom and returned to find Aubrey licking the edges of my plate. I shooed her away and handed Bastien the computer. A few quick clicks, and he soon had the Committee for the Preservation of Family Values' website open. Dana's organization. Most of her radio broadcasts were archived and available for download. He picked one, and we finished the rest of our meal to the sound of her rich, melodic voice.
The first broadcast concerned homosexuality. The CPFV maintained an appearance of sugarcoated goodness, a desire to help people and improve American life. Consequently, because being openly racist or sexist was not good for one's image anymore, the organization only espoused views slanted in those directions in subtle ways. Blatantly condemning homosexuality, however, was not entirely taboo yet—unfortunately— and the bulk of this broadcast involved Dana oozing on about the importance of "helping" those people to understand the true way both nature and God intended love to be. Toleration of such misguided lifestyles, she claimed, would lead to a breakdown in our families. The children. For God's sake, think of the children.
Her next broadcast damned the abominable state of today's clothing. School uniforms and fashion censoring were the only ways to go. How could we expect young girls to grow up with any self-respect when they walked around dressed like sluts? It led to sexual acts they weren't ready for, not to mention instilling in them the idea that their value came from appearance, not character.
I thought of the lacy purple thong I wore under my jeans just then. What was wrong with character and sex appeal?
The third one we listened to concerned the futility of teaching teenagers about safe sex and contraception. Abstinence training was the way to go. Keep them in pure ignorance. End of story.