No Biz Like Showbiz

by Julie Moffett

  “You can’t possibly think I’d do something like that on purpose.”

  “Well, Lucy dumped Gregg’s drink down the front of his pants on the second week of the show when he tried to get to first base with her. I’ve heard of weirder things happening on these reality shows.”

  I couldn’t argue with that since I’d never even seen a reality show before this one. However, the conversation was raising my nervousness quotient.

  I examined Anson’s glass and sniffed. “What is that?”

  “Whiskey on the rocks. I don’t usually drink alcohol at all, so I may be visiting the bathroom soon.”

  I was seriously considering imbibing, as well. “I don’t drink much either, but I may need one soon. I hope there’s more than one bathroom in this place.”

  Eldrick stared at Anson’s drink. “I’d rather have a beer, but the producers said this was a more sophisticated gathering.”

  I considered that. “I didn’t realize beer was viewed as unsophisticated.”

  Anson looked around nervously. “I just hope this night is over and fast. I am not enjoying this at all.”

  “Me neither.” I cocked my head. “However, you guys actually look pretty good in those tuxes.”

  Eldrick snorted. “These penguin suits? Constricting and itchy.” He tugged at the bow tie.

  “Consider yourselves fortunate. At least you don’t have to wear panty hose and breast padding.” I paused. “Well, I’m not wearing any padding tonight.”

  That comment was a mistake because both guys started staring at my chest. I blushed and snapped my fingers. “Hey, up here.”

  Anson’s eyes shot up. “Ah, that’s true about the breast padding and panty hose. Sounds pretty hideous. But at least you don’t have to wear jock straps. Not that I would wear one with a tuxedo. Actually, not that I’ve ever worn one. Just saying.” He paused. “That was too much information for a casual conversation, right?”

  “Beats me. I’m probably not the best person to ask about that seeing as how I was just talking about breast padding.”

  Anson took a nervous gulp of whiskey and then coughed. “What the hell do they put in whiskey?”

  “Fermented grain mash. Some more potent than others.” I patted him on the back. “But I’m guessing you meant that as a rhetorical question rather than an actual query.”

  “Yes. I do that all the time. It bugs the heck out of my mother.”

  “Hey, I’ll get you a drink, Lexi,” Eldrick gallantly offered. “What’s your poison?”

  My stomach rolled. “Better not yet. My stomach is a bit shaky at the moment. Nerves and all.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  For a minute the three of us just stood staring at each other. Not one of us could think of anything conversation worthy. Eldrick developed a weird eye tic and Anson gulped the rest of his whiskey before erupting into another coughing fit. The silence stretched into unbearable territory.

  Then I saw Ace over Eldrick’s shoulder waving a dry-erase board with something written on it.

  I squinted. Technology.

  Relief flooded through me. I’d forgotten. As long as I didn’t drone on forever, I could tech talk. I took a deep breath. “So, guys, what do think of Juniper’s new SDN controller?”

  The guys let out an audible breath of relief.

  Anson’s face lit up. “You heard about Juniper? It’s good stuff. Did you hear they made it available as open source code?”

  We were off and running for the next several minutes until I saw Ace giving me a chopping signal on his neck. He then pointed to the other group of guys. I looked over my shoulder at Ray and Truman who were sitting on the couch, talking.

  I had actually been enjoying the conversation, so I rather reluctantly told the guys I was going over to talk to Ray and Truman. Still happily talking about Juniper’s controller, they headed for the food table. I wished I could follow them and the interesting conversation.

  Instead I headed for the living room. Ray whistled as I approached. I rolled my eyes and sat on the couch next to him. At the last second, I remembered to cross my legs. My mother would never forgive me if I showed up on television with my legs wide open. It’s just I wasn’t used to walking around in a dress and heels. It felt unnatural.

  “Hey, you look great, Lexi.” Ray leaned back against the cushion and studied me. “You’ve even got makeup on.”

  “They told me I had to wear it.”

  Truman nodded. “The warm peach-colored hue of your lipstick serves to offset the pale pigmentation of your skin and creates an inherent balance of color and harmony when one looks at your face.” His cheeks turned pink. “That was a compliment, by the way.”

  “I figured. Thanks, but it’s all Mandy’s doing. I just sat there and let her smear it on. I couldn’t do this myself.”

  Ray touched a strand of my hair. “They did something nice to your hair, too. It’s kind of wavy and smooth.”

  “I usually wear it in a ponytail.”

  “It looks good loose. It makes you look...approachable.”

  “I don’t normally look approachable?”

  “I meant this is just a softer look for you. Also, you aren’t much for direct eye contact, so if a guy was trying to connect with you from across the room, it would be hard for him.”

  “Why does a guy have to connect with me from across the room? Why not just come over and say hello?”

  “Guys want to make sure the girl is interested.”

  “How can you tell from across the room if she’s interested?”

  Ray shrugged. “You just can.”

  “I can’t,” Truman offered.

  I frowned. “That seems counterintuitive. I sincerely doubt you can tell much about a person from nothing more than an exchange of glances across a room.”

  Ray laughed. “You’d be wrong about that, Lexi.”

  “Apparently I seem to be wrong about a great deal of that stuff. Which is exactly why I avoid it.”

  Truman nodded. “Me, too.”

  We fell silent again and I started to dread these pregnant pauses in the conversation. Why people went to parties to do this very thing for fun completely mystified me. I saw Basia waving at me, opening and closing her fingers in the universal signal to talk. But what the heck was I supposed to talk about?

  “Uh, guys, how about that weather?” I cringed, but at least I had said something.

  Surprisingly, Truman perked up. “Actually, today the atmospheric thickness and wind conditions were quite favorable for Los Angeles at this time of year.”

  Ray grinned. “Agreed. The weather has been fabulous. It’s one of the best things about living in the City of Angels.”

  “Right.”

  We fell silent again. I was just about to bring up a tech subject when Ray spoke first.

  “So, what did you do today, Lexi?”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Me? You want to know what I did?”

  “Sure. Tell me about your day.”

  I thought a moment. “Um, nope I’ve got nothing. Nothing interesting happened.”

  Truman leaned forward. “I can tell you what I did.”

  Thankful to be off the hook, I nodded eagerly. “Great. Tell us.”

  He thought for a moment. “Okay, well, I got up before the alarm went off. I sat up in bed and stretched. My neck muscles were sore. That is probably because it’s a different pillow than the one I have at home, plus I’ve had a couple of stressful days in a row. Then I got up, checked my teeth and tongue in the mirror, and went to the bathroom.”

  Ray held up a hand. “Whoa, dude. You don’t have to give us the details of every second. Just the highlights.”

  “Those were the highlights.”

  Ray and I fell silent.

>   I looked over at Ace hopefully. He was furiously writing something on the board and then held it up.

  Food.

  I jumped up from the couch, surprising both guys. “Let’s eat. Thank goodness.”

  “Excellent idea.” Truman followed on my heels, seemingly as relieved as I to have a reprieve from conversation.

  Ray trailed behind Truman and me as we made our way to the table. We passed the other two guys, who were already cramming food in their mouths, dropping crumbs down the front of their tuxedo jacket. I looked down at my sparkly blue dress and wondered if I’d make it through the night without spilling anything on it. The odds were not in my favor.

  I went to the table and began to calculate how much I needed to load on my plate and the time it would take me to chew it in order to minimize the minutes I’d have to spend talking.

  I filled my plate based on my rough calculations and then got a club soda with a lot of ice before heading into the living room. Everyone already sat around the coffee table. I’d just sat down on the couch next to Eldrick when Stone strolled over.

  “So how goes it, guys?” He smiled his million-watt smile. “Feeling like you know our girl any better?”

  “She doesn’t drink much,” Eldrick offered.

  “And dislikes wearing padded bras,” Anson added. “Although I forgot to ask if she’s ever seen a jock strap before.”

  I closed my eyes. I sincerely hoped my mother did not watch this show. She was either going to kill or disown me. Probably both.

  Stone beamed. “Excellent.” He turned to me. “Lexi, we have arranged an intimate table on the patio for you to meet and chat with each of the remaining guys alone. This will give you time to privately get to know each other in a safe environment.”

  “Define safe environment.”

  Stone laughed. “An intimate, romantic, cozy, candlelit table for two. The perfect setting to kiss and fall in love.”

  I choked on the egg roll thingamabob I was eating. Anson pounded me hard on the back just as I grabbed my club soda. The half eaten eggroll popped out of my mouth at the same time the glass flew out of my hand. The eggroll mash plopped on the coffee table, while the ice-cold liquid splashed directly onto Stone’s crotch.

  “Aaaaaaaah!” Stone leapt backward and did an Irish jig kind of dance.

  I grabbed a napkin and tried to press it to the wet area on Stone’s pants. “Jeez. I’m sorry, Stone. Anson hit me a little hard on the back and—”

  Stone screamed like a girl. “No. God. Don’t touch me there.” He jigged backward behind the cameras, clutching his crotch. “What is it with the girls on this show trying to cause me bodily harm? Cartwright, we are so cutting that section. Damn, it’s cold. Wardrobe! Get me some new pants.”

  Sighing, I picked up the mashed egg roll from the table with my wet napkin and then retrieved the glass, which had tumbled unbroken onto the carpet.

  Anson’s face was beet red. “I’m so sorry, Lexi. I should have done the Heimlich maneuver instead of a thump on the back. It was just an instinctive kind of thing.”

  “It’s okay. Actually, I wasn’t really choking. It was just a temporary catch of food in my throat. But it’s the thought that counts.”

  Eldrick burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but that was the funniest thing ever. Did you see Stone’s face? His pecker probably shriveled to the size of a pecan given all the ice in that glass...unless it’s already that size.”

  The other guys burst out laughing as well.

  I spread my hands. “Hey, just so we’re all clear here...I did not do that on purpose.”

  I heard more giggles and saw several of the stage crew and both cameramen were laughing. Guess Stone wasn’t as well liked as I’d thought. I blew out a breath and stood.

  “Okay, let’s just get this next part over with. I think we’re all clear that there will be nothing intimate about our conversation. Especially since there will be me, one of you, the cameramen, the stage crew, and everyone out in television land listening in. It’s all a bit ridiculous, if you ask me. But since no one asked me, I guess we forge onward.”

  Ray patted my arm. “We’ll survive. Get to work.”

  Reluctantly I picked up my plate wandered out to the patio. Just as Stone had said, there was a candlelit table under the stars and moon next to the shimmering pool filled with candles. The two cameramen had recovered and stood quietly in different locations, adjusting their lenses. It was kind of dark on the patio, and I wondered I how they were able to film without adding extra lighting. My mind wanted to explore the potential technical issues associated with that. Unfortunately, I had to focus on what was more important for the moment—talking to a bunch of guys about personal issues. Crapola. I’d rather endure getting fake nails while being forced to listen to Cher, but it wasn’t like I had a choice at this point.

  The table had a white tablecloth, a vase with a single red rose bud, and a champagne bucket and two flutes. I set my plate and drink down and sat nervously in my chair. The house was ablaze with light and I could hear laughter coming from the living room. It felt weird to be isolated out here in the dark with two silent cameramen.

  After a minute I saw Truman walking out with his plate and drink. He sat opposite me and put his napkin in his lap. I’d forgotten about that, so I did it, too, and then we sat looking at each other.

  He finally exhaled a deep breath. “Okay. Here we are.”

  “Yes, here we are.”

  “They sent me out first.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Not really.” He looked up quickly. “I mean I’m lucky I’m with you, it’s just not lucky that I’m first.”

  “I understand. I think.”

  We fell silent. My appetite fled and, apparently, so did Truman’s. I tried desperately to remember Basia’s and Ace’s instructions. Try to get to know the person beyond the superficial level. Ask them questions about themselves. If all else fails, talk technology, at least for a while.

  “Ah, okay. So, Truman, tell me something about yourself that I may not know.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Something you want to tell me.”

  “I really don’t want to tell you anything. I don’t like talking about myself, but if I have to...”

  “Yes, you have to.” I said that a little too desperately, but we are who we are.

  “Okay. Well you know I’m a paranormal investigator.”

  “Yes, I knew that. How did you get into that field?”

  “It’s something I always wanted to explore. I graduated from high school at twelve, got a degree from UCLA in computer science at fifteen, and finished my PhD in Cognitive and Computer Science at the same university by nineteen. I started my own company, Intelligence Services LLC, offering hypothesis testing, intelligence enhancement, and artificial intelligence engineering services the same year. I got a loan from my grandparents and hired three of my friends. I hired fourteen more employees as the year went on and we cleared six million in the first year. After six years, I sold the company for seven hundred and ninety-nine million dollars. I retired and decided to pursue a leisurely career in a field less explored by science.”

  I stared at him. “That’s impressive. Retired at twenty-five. I actually considered a career in cognitive computer science as well.”

  “Damn. You actually know what it is?”

  “Sure.”

  “Most people don’t have a clue.”

  “They should. It’s a great field.”

  “It truly is.”

  I saw Ace waving the board and glanced over.

  No more technology talk. Get MORE personal.

  Truman saw the sign, too, but neither one of us knew how to take the conversation to a more personal level. It was already way more personal than I
liked. Giving myself time to think, I shoveled food in my mouth. Truman did the same and after we finished, we took a drink, and then stared at each other some more.

  Ace was not happy with our silence and had started dancing around and waving the dry-erase board, looking like he was having apoplexy. Why the hell was it so important for people to get so personal?

  Then I thought of the hacker who would be watching and took a deep breath to calm down. I was just about to ask something, anything, when Truman abruptly spoke.

  “Okay, Lexi. I think it’s your turn to tell me something personal.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I felt truly uncomfortable talking about myself, especially knowing a million plus people were listening in. But I guess it was fair play since I was asking him to talk about himself.

  “Uh, Truman, my life is pretty routine...most of the time. I go to work. I come home. I eat, game, and sleep. That’s about it.” I took a sip of my champagne.

  He leaned forward. “Do you masturbate?”

  I spewed the champagne all over the table and all over Truman. “What?”

  Truman began dabbing his cheeks with his napkin. “Well, I just wondered, you know, if girls like to do that.”

  I fumbled for my own napkin and pressed it to my mouth. I actually wanted to cover my face with it and crawl under the table, but he was looking at me so earnestly, I just couldn’t do it.

  “Jeez, Truman. I’m not an expert on dating, but I think that may be too personal a question for a first date.”

  “I thought we were supposed to get personal.”

  “I know, but not that personal.”

  He frowned. “Well, it’s not like they spelled out the difference.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  Truman looked dejected, and I felt like an idiot.

  “Look, Truman, why don’t you tell me more about...your new business instead.”

  I saw Ace writing something on the board. He held it up. No! Not his job. GO BACK TO PERSONAL.

  I pretended I didn’t see it, and so did Truman.

  “I’m glad you asked. My company is called Black of Night. I’ve got all the top-notch equipment to search out and find traces of paranormal or otherworldly beings such as ghosts, demons, poltergeists, vampires, and cryptic animals like werewolves or Big Foot. My business also handles possessions, voodoo, witchcraft and psychic activity.”