Chapter 8 #2
“This time, you have to take it off the hook,” Big Mac said.
“I don’t know about that,” Jordan said hesitantly.
“You can do it. They don’t eat much.”
As she watched Jordan’s intense concentration, Gigi had the most diabolical idea.
She had to fight back the urge to howl with laughter.
Not yet, she told herself. But soon. More determined than ever to catch another crab, she watched the activity below until she saw a crab approaching.
“Don’t they figure out what’s going to happen when they see a hot dog suddenly appear down there? ”
“They haven’t gotten wise to us yet,” Big Mac said.
“It’s safe to say that crabs aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed,” Jordan said.
Big Mac laughed. “Their pincers are pretty sharp, but their smarts? Not so much.”
Hearing that, Gigi briefly reconsidered her prank and decided it was a go. They were supposed to make good TV, and this would make for good TV.
As she slowly raised her line with a second crab, she was relieved to see it was much smaller than the first one. As Big Mac supervised, she removed the crab from the hook by grabbing one of the arms and avoiding the pincers that opened and closed. Jordan was going to kill her for this.
She walked toward the bucket as if to deposit her catch, but instead, she placed the crab on the top of Jordan’s head and then pretended to be looking on with interest as Jordan watched the crab activity below.
Gigi was rocking with silent laughter by the time Jordan let out a bloodcurdling scream.
“You crazy bitch, get that thing off my head!” She screamed and clawed at her head, but the crab burrowed in deeper. “It’s biting me!” Jordan danced around like a lunatic as she tried to get the crab off her head.
Yep, that would make for good TV.
Gigi was laughing so hard, she couldn’t do a thing to help Jordan, not that she wanted to, anyway. This was what she got for flaunting her overactive sex life in Gigi’s face all summer.
Big Mac took mercy on Jordan and removed the crab from her head, along with a few strands of hair.
Jordan shot daggers at Gigi. “I can’t believe you did that!”
“You can’t? Really?” Their show was all about ridiculous nonsense, and the audience ate it up.
Jordan poked Gigi in the chest. “Revenge is a bitch, my friend, and so am I.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“That was excellent, ladies,” Matilda said. “Your face when you realized she’d put a crab on your head, Jordan…” Matilda lost it laughing. “Priceless.”
“Not funny at all.”
“Sorry,” Matilda said. “I’m with Gigi on this one.” She gave Gigi a high five.
Gigi responded to Jordan’s glare with a smug smile. If nothing else, her mood had improved in the last few minutes.
“Let’s catch some more crabs, and then we’ll race them,” Matilda said, signaling to the camera crew to get ready to film.
Over the next half hour, they filled the bucket with crabs.
“Wouldn’t you think the word would get out down there?” Gigi asked. “They’re kidnapping our friends. If it smells like processed pork food, don’t bite!”
Jordan cracked up. “Or maybe it’s a badge of honor, like the Olympics. I bit the hot dog and got to run in the race today! And everyone gathers around them and treats them like a returning hero.”
“Do you think they give out prizes or medals?”
“They get extra algae for dinner for making the community proud,” Gigi said.
“It’s like a spaghetti dinner for the crab crowd.”
A few minutes later, Matilda said they had enough footage of the crab catching and were ready to move on to the races.
“Can we eat something first?” Gigi asked. “I’m freaking famished.”
“You’re always freaking famished,” Jordan said. “How you stay so thin when you eat like a football player is beyond me.”
“Good metabolism, baby. Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m so jealous. I feel like everything I eat lands on my ass these days.”
Gigi followed her up the ramp to the parking lot. “You’re not knocked up, are you?”
Jordan spun around, a look of horror on her face. “What? No.”
“Are you sure?”
“What? No.”
Gigi bent in half, laughing. “You are so knocked up.”
“I am not. I can’t be!”
“Uh, I hate to tell you that when you have sex three times a day, it is, in fact, possible you’re knocked up.”
“Stop it. There’s no way. We’ve been careful.”
“No, you have not. Are you going to tell me there’s no chance he slipped one by the goalie when he’s shooting every ten minutes?”
“It’s not every ten minutes, and shut up already, will you?”
Gigi cackled with laughter. “You are so preggo, it’s not even funny.”
To her dismay, Jordan began to cry. “I can’t be pregnant. We’re not ready for that.”
When Gigi realized the cameras had been capturing their conversation, she put her arm around Jordan and led her into the bathroom.
At the door, she turned to the cameraman and said, “Back off. And I’d better not see any of that on the show or anywhere else.
I mean it.” She slammed the door and slid the lock into place.
“They were filming that?”
“I’ll talk to Matilda. Don’t worry. It won’t get out.”
“Ugh, I’d better talk to Mason before someone on the crew talks.”
“They won’t say anything. They’re under NDAs. I made sure of it.”
“Sometimes having a best friend who’s also a lawyer is very convenient.”
Gigi pulled some paper towels from the dispenser, wet them and then wiped the tears and mascara from under Jordan’s eyes. “If you’re pregnant, Mason will be thrilled.”
“What if he isn’t? We’ve never even talked about having babies.”
“Not once?”