7. Caz
Chapter 7
Caz
“ I ’m meeting Shiloh before I come in today,” I screamed into the speakerphone while getting dressed.
“You don’t have to yell. But make sure you record it, and if it doesn’t seem like it’s going anywhere, I have a backup in place.” Matrix still thought I should work with Shiloh even after I told him about Sonya, but I had finally convinced him that there was a good chance this would go tits up.
I should have been happy that he came up with an alternative, but I had messaged him before I had a chance to text Shiloh. The truth was, after our hours-long conversation, I didn’t want to give up on her—I felt compelled to help her.
She had a way about her that made me feel instantly comfortable and at ease, which was hard to resist. She was reserved but slipped inconspicuous sarcasm into the conversation, making me laugh. I genuinely enjoyed our chat, which was why I hadn’t realized we had been going back and forth for so long. Working with her would hopefully be fun and seem less like a job.
“Sounds good. Just so I know, what’s Plan B if this doesn’t work out?” Not that I thought it wouldn’t.
I believed I could assist Shiloh because she already had a lot going for her. I didn’t need to do much—just give her a boost. She had the elements of a She’s All That makeover with her simple look that could be elevated with little effort. And she was the girl-next-door pretty. She reminded me of Joey from Dawson’s Creek —attractive but aloof. She seemed to hide her light, as if she were scared to be seen.
All I would need to do was scope out who she liked and figure out the best way for her to strike up a convo. And once she had her foot in the door, she could surely close the deal. If not, hopefully the other woman would at least take pity on her and not embarrass her on the show.
“The Pepper Parade,” he said, shaking me from my internal visions.
“What is that?” I stared in the mirror at my hair and realized it would be a hat day.
“Well, you start with a pepper at zero Scoville Heat Units and work your way up to two million.”
Was he kidding? He didn’t sound like he was, but he must have lost his mind.
“Right. Let’s take that out of the rotation unless someone else is doing the testing because I’m more of a sadist.”
He laughed, but I was serious—at least about the first part. “I get it, but it was all we could come up with at the last minute that would be easy to incorporate without needing extra hands or videos. We could do it right in the studio. Unless you have something else, we’re going with that.” He seemed apologetic, but that didn’t change my thoughts.
“I’ll make sure the Shiloh thing works out. I’ll see you in a few hours.” As long as she was receptive, I figured we could get a decent piece for the audience. It would have to be good enough because I wasn’t about to have a burning ring of fire.
We hung up, and I finished getting ready. I didn’t know if I would meet Shiloh’s crush today, but I wanted to look presentable. I wore a white tank top and black skinny jeans with a red and black flannel tied around my waist. After donning my black slouchy cap and slipping into my trusty Vans, I wasted no time leaving.
I hadn’t ever been to the place Shiloh suggested we meet, so I ordered a ride. I didn’t want to get lost and make a terrible impression. However, we seemed to be over the niceties. Last night, we bypassed much of the small talk as I shifted into interviewer mode. I only hoped she didn't feel I had put her on the spot. But now that I knew how much my ass was literally riding on this, I would wingwoman the hell out of it.
The car dropped me off in front of a strip mall. I didn’t immediately see my destination, and I turned around to say we were in the wrong place, but he sped off before I could stop him.
Since I couldn’t leave, I moved to the sidewalk and searched the storefronts. When I was about to give up, I saw what I was looking for: a tiny sign that read, “Sprout and Sprigs.” The moment I opened the door, a cacophony of unappealing smells hit me, making me wrinkle my nose.
I looked around, and a woman with pink hair and an eyebrow ring approached. She was far too happy to see someone, and I wondered if I was their first customer—not that I would ever shop here.
“Hey! Welcome to Sprout and Sprigs, your one-stop shop for vegetarian cuisine. How may I assist you today? We have some delicious new meals prepped and ready for consumption, or we can set you up with Shy, our menu planner, who can give you ideas specific to your tastes and needs.”
As she bombarded me with information, my mind performed mental gymnastics, trying to find a polite way to express my severe disinterest.
“It’s okay, Yoni. She’s here to see me.” Shiloh approached, wearing a darker shirt than yesterday but still gray.
She brushed her bangs off her forehead, and something between a grimace and a smile appeared across her lips. I wondered if she was in pain for a second, but then she settled on a closed-mouth smirk, and it was clear it was discomfort.
“Oh, okay. But if you want to try something on your way out, we have sweet treats, too,” Yoni said, and I had to stop myself from laughing on so many levels.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” After locking eyes with her, I winked, and a blush filled her cheeks.
I wasn’t a big flirt myself, but I knew the art of making someone feel special. It was the simple things that people wanted, and maybe seeing how easy it was would inflate Shiloh’s titties enough for her to put it into practice.
“Why don’t we go to my office?” she said curtly, letting me know she wanted to get this show on the road. “May I grab you a drink first?” she questioned before opening the door to what appeared to be a storage closet but must have been what she was referring to as an office.
It housed two folding chairs and a small end table, which left no room to maneuver. Our only option was to sit, and it was so cramped I worried we might run out of oxygen.
I shook my head in response to her offer, not that anything else could have even fit in the space with us. “This is quaint.” I tried to keep my breath steady and not let the claustrophobia take over.
“We are just starting out and couldn’t afford a bigger place.” She appeared embarrassed, and I hated that.
I knew what it was like trying to get established. Before making a name for myself, I did almost anything for ratings. Thinking about what I was doing now and what I would have to do if this assignment didn’t work out, I guess not much had changed. But at least I was making better money for allowing people to dictate my life.
“I get it, but you’ve got a great space here. And I could always drop the name of your shop on the show to see if it will get you more business.” I probably shouldn’t have said that because I had sponsors who paid a lot of money to get mentioned, but seeing the defeated look in her brown puppy-dog eyes saddened me.
I wasn’t normally a bleeding heart, but it was impossible to sit in front of her without feeling a pang of sympathy. The energy she exuded was genuine but heavy. She seemed to control the emotions of the room somehow, and I realized she was completely unaware of her power.
“Yeah? That would be amazing. But…” She didn’t complete that thought.
Maybe I should have let it go so Matrix wouldn’t be mad at me for doing a free plug. But something inside me wanted to know what she was thinking.
“But what?” I asked.
“I don’t want you to offer fake support, especially if I’m not paying you.” She was so earnest, and that was rare.
“I’m guessing Yoni would pay me with her muffin.” My innuendo made me laugh, but Shiloh’s reaction made me wonder if I had crossed the line. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”
She snickered under her breath. “It was funny and definitely true.” She stared at me as she hid behind her long eyelashes.
“I’ll try to keep my commentary to a minimum. Sometimes, my mouth becomes the life of the party before my brain is invited.”
“I don’t mind your off-color humor. I just don’t always know how to respond.” She stared at me as if it was my cue to say something.
“I get that, but I’ll still try to be on my best behavior. Most of the time, I’m encouraged to push the envelope, and I don’t have a lot of experience in one-on-one situations.” That was more open than I probably needed to be, which meant it was time to direct the conversation to her. “So, back to the topic at hand. Why don’t you tell me what you do, and maybe I can promote your services.”
She ran a hand through her hair again, this time causing her bangs to flop in her eyes. Then she jerked her head to the side, trying to get them to fall back into place. She didn’t have much luck and used her fingers to tuck them behind her ear. If she added a playful smirk to that move, she would instantly become irresistible to women.
“I help people come up with meal ideas based on their specific needs: dietary needs, time restrictions, flavor profile… you name it.”
I stared at her blankly because I forgot I had asked her a question and was playing catch-up. “Oh, that’s great. You can start with me. I hate cooking. I’ll eat anything…” I paused and mumbled, “That’s what she said,” then continued, “and I don’t like hot things.” I shivered thinking about the Pepper Parade.
“Did you say, ‘that’s what she said’ to eating anything?” She raised both brows in my direction.
I didn’t make a mental note of saying it out loud, but it sounded like me. “Probably.” I chuckled, and she shook her head. “Sorry.” I didn’t realize how bad my filter was, but it must be one of those things: if you don’t use it, you lose it.
“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I’m not a prude. I like it when you are just yourself. It makes it easier for me to talk to you openly.”
“Phew.” I faked wiping sweat off my brow. “That's a relief because I was struggling to keep myself in check.”
“Well, if that’s reining it in, I’d be curious to hear what you say without restraints.” There was one of those sarcastic comments she let slip, and I could feel the energy shift—she was loosening up.
“All right, tell me about this girl you have an eye on. I have to do some recon before I can offer useful advice. And even then, it’s questionable.” I laughed, but that was one hundred percent the truth. I pulled out my phone before continuing. “Do you care if I record this part for the show? I need to document our journey.”
She chewed on her lower lip. The lightheartedness was gone, and in came the uncomfortable storm. It was almost frustrating how much I could feel from her.
“I can just do audio if you’d like. But I have to give my producer something so he knows this is legit. After he found out about Sonya being the one who called this in, he came up with something unsavory for me to do instead.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.” She was genuinely concerned, but I didn’t want to guilt her into doing something.
From her reactions to things, it seemed like that could have been a common occurrence for her with other people in her life.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you're having cold feet.” Despite the potential consequences of a firewater fountain shooting out my ass, if she chose not to proceed, I wouldn’t continue for my benefit.
“No, I want to do this. And I need to be more like you.” She swallowed hard, and I had to correct her right there.
“That’s not true. You don’t need to change for anyone. And I promise you, I’m not a role model. I have more issues than a nun at an orgy.”
The corner of her lip hitched into a smirk. “That’s what I mean. You are direct and don’t hold back. That’s more of how I want to be. I’m not saying I want to be you, but I’m hopeful I can pick up a few things.”
“That’s something you have inside of you already. You are just more subtle about it. Why don’t you work on my menu, and I’ll see what Yoni has for me to eat.” I tried to hold back my snicker but failed.
“But what about the footage you need for the show?” Concern laced her voice.
“I’ll take care of that. It’s obvious you need to take this slow, and if the audience wants me to help you, they will have to be okay with me doing it right. Pushing you off the edge without a parachute isn’t an option.” I nodded, impressed with myself—maybe I was better at this mentor shit than I realized.
“Are you sure?” She was so meek, and I wanted her to put herself first.
“If I said no, what would you do?” I cocked a brow in her direction.
She shrugged. “I guess I’d buck up and try to overcome my stage fright.”
I stood and grabbed her by the shoulders. “No. You tell me to fuck off because you’re not ready yet.”
She stared up at me, and I realized I was practically smashing my tits in her face as I shook her.
“Now you should tell me to back up and stop making you motorboat me.” I released her shoulders and opened the door so I could breathe and give us both the space we needed.
She appeared scared, but apparently, I was wrong. “Technically, it was probably closer to a paddle boat.”
I wasn’t sure if she was mocking my breast size or saying I hadn’t shaken her fast enough to qualify for that speed rating, but I couldn’t keep myself from laughing. “See. You have a strong personality inside you. We need to get you to release it. How about I send you a list of questions, and you can text me the answers? This will prepare us both for our meeting tomorrow, and maybe we can move forward with a game plan.”
Her face brightened, and I could tell she was relaxing again. “Sounds good. And I will work on ideas for your meals, but even though it’s vegetarian, I’m not putting you on a pussy diet.” Her tone was so serious that it took me a second to realize how funny it was.
“You will get the girl in the end.” I walked out, chuckling to myself. It didn’t matter if she was never ready to do the show; I wanted to see this through.
She deserved happiness, and for whatever reason, I wanted to be part of that.