Page 7 of Love Off Script

As I pretended to be engrossed in my crossword, I couldn't help but steal glances at the woman leaving my table. Something about her was mildly familiar, but I was certain she wasn’t here for me. I didn’t know anyone here—except for my infatuation.

I brought my eyes to Ember, who was behind the counter. She was the reason I came to this shop. I never got up the nerve to speak to her outside of giving her my coffee order, but at least I could enjoy the view.

Before that woman who approached me earlier, no one ever seemed to notice me. She made me feel slightly exposed, and I was glad she left without further interaction because I enjoyed being invisible—at least here. The last thing I needed was someone to realize my motivation for coming.

“What the fuck, cuz?” Sonya’s voice shook me from my reverie, and I stared like a deer in the headlights.

Had she busted me? I felt creepy but tried to act natural.

“I thought you had a date?” I stared at her questioningly.

She ignored my comment and sat down. I felt an interrogation coming on, and I didn’t like being put on the spot. Surely, she didn’t know about my crush. And if she did, I hoped like hell she wasn’t here to call me on it.

“Why didn’t you talk to Caz?”

I closed my eyes, processing what she said. “Caz?”

“Yeah, your surprise.” She spoke slowly as if I were stupid, and maybe I was because I hadn’t a clue what she meant.

I had been so worried about her confronting me about Ember that I played out an entirely different conversation in my head. And now that she was off-script, I was lost.

“What are you doing here?” It was always best for me to lead the conversation when it came to Sonya.

“I’m here to help you, but you make it impossible.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t ask for your help. Is this what you and Devon were talking about yesterday?”

“Caz was going to help you find a lover. What did you say to her?”

“I don’t know a Caz, so I couldn’t have said anything to her.”

“I saw her sit at your table. You said something because she left and sent a somewhat bitchy text.” She showed me her phone.

“Wait a minute. The woman who wanted to buy drugs was who you sent to help me?” How did Sonya ever think that was a good idea?

She knew that was more up her alley than mine.

She barked out a laugh so loud that everyone turned to stare at us, including Ember, and I pulled the crossword up to hide my face.

“What’s so funny?” I hissed.

“That anyone would think you would be stealthy enough to sell drugs. You almost have a panic attack if someone mentions artificial ingredients in food. Let alone something illegal.” She pulled my book down so she could see me. “Caz didn’t want to buy something from you. She wanted you on her show.”

I searched my brain for a minute, then realized where I had recognized that woman before—Caitlin Montgomery. She was a vlogger and podcaster who made quite a name for herself over the years. I didn’t follow her because everything seemed rehearsed and immature, but I’d seen a few things with Sonya and Devon, who thought what she did was amazing.

“Why would she want me to be on her show? None of this makes sense. I don’t even watch her.” Whatever Sonya and Devon had said to her was probably a lie to make me feel stupid.

They had a unique sense of humor, and Caz was probably down for it. I was glad I could foil their plan.

“I know you don’t, but you should. She has some good segments, and everyone voted for her to help you find love. At first, she didn’t seem too happy about the idea, but she came around, and I thought if anyone could break you out of your shell, it would be her.” For once, she sounded sincere, but she still hadn’t answered my questions.

“Look. I appreciate you feeling sorry for me, but I’m doing fine solo. If you must know, I can get my own date.” I didn’t know if that was true because I’d never asked anyone out, but I wanted to believe in myself.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” she huffed. “But there was no way you’d let me give you advice on that woman, so I thought if I got a professional, you would be more open.”

I refused to ask who “that woman” was, even though I was certain she meant Ember. And if she knew about my crush on her, there was a chance others did, too—such as Ember herself. This was perfect. I had to find a new coffee shop and a new crush. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, but I tried to keep my cool.

“I appreciate your effort, but I promise you, I’m good. And besides, what did you think she was a professional at? I thought she hosted a dare-type show. What makes her qualified to give dating advice? Not that I need any.” I threw that in for good measure so she didn’t think I was opening a door for her.

---