Page 28 of Baby, It's You
I scoff. “Yeah, okay.”
“I mean, you made yourself look cute today,” she points out. “You always dress cute, that's not a dig at you, but you know what I mean. Not usually before a work shift…”
I get up from the table. “Yeah. It’s in case I’m on camera,” I respond defensively.
She’s right, though. Today I put some extra effort into my appearance. I was able to cover my leftover bruises with some amazing concealer. They completely disappeared. I also put waves in my mid-length dark hair and applied a little extra blush to my fair cheeks. I’m wearing a red cardigan with a black mini dress and my white converse. I even pulled back some loose strands of hair with a red bow. I brought my uniform to change into before Tripp comes to work, so I don’t even really know why I dressed up. Now that Ivy mentions it, I’m feeling a little self-conscious. I don’t want to give off the wrong impression because the last thing I want is for Hunter to think I am interested in him.
Ivy interrupts my train of thought. “Well, once they see you on camera, I’m sure plenty of men will be asking for your number. So be prepared, babe.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re a hot tamale.”
I ignore the comment and put my phone in my tote. “Okay, thanks.”
“Let me know how it goes,” she continues. “Text me after work.”
“Will do.” I give her a hug and walk off to conquer the day. Once I get to my car and put the key in the ignition, I silently cheer when my Barney car starts. I really need to get that battery; I’m pushing my luck.
Chapter 20
Hunter
I’m sitting outside the bar’s front door at 8:30 A.M. with my film equipment, listening to the song “Snap Out of It” by Arctic Monkeys on my headphones, when I see Olive pull up in a bright purple car.Interesting choice in vehicle color, I think while chuckling to myself. Not what I expected from her.
She glances over at me while she parks and then steps out of her driver’s side. As she starts walking towards me, I swear time slows. She’s wearing a dress that shows off her pale, smooth legs, which look like they go on for miles. I find it hard to swallow and tug a little at the collar of my button-up Dickies shirt. This is the first time I've seen her that she wasn't in her work uniform, and I can’t look away. Olive gives me a wave, and I smile back at her, trying to be respectful with my gaze. I take a few steps closer to her and pull my headphones out of my ears.
“Hi, Olive, you look really nice.” I sheepishly grin. Why do I feel like an alien in my own body right now? She makes me feel so intimidated.
She looks down at her outfit. “Oh, this old thing? Just something I threw together.” She quickly brushes off the compliment.
“Well, you look great,” I reiterate, as she walks by me to unlock the door.
She turns back towards me, gives a small smile, and quietly says, “Thank you.” Then she pulls the door open, and I reach out to hold it, motioning for her to go first.
I follow her through the doorway, my eyes adjusting to the dark, empty bar after standing outside in the sun. She sets her flower print tote on a stool near the counter and turns towards me.
“So,” she says, “where do we begin?”
“I could just search around real quick and see if there's something that really stands out to me on the walls? If it catches my eye as a newbie to the bar, I’m sure it will interest the audience, too.”
“Okay, clever idea. I agree.” She nods.
I put down my equipment bag on a low wooden table and begin my search. Every wall has so much writing that it's almost overwhelming to make the words out. I can't imagine how many stories there must be in here. Thousands, easily.
I feel Olive looking at me out of the corner of my eye and turn to meet her gaze. She’s chewing on her bottom lip and she quickly looks away when we make eye contact. I can feel the situation getting awkward, so I decide to switch it up.
“I love the vibe here,” I tell her.
She lets out a breath and scans her eyes around, too. “Yeah, me too. I’ve worked here for going on ten years and I always find something new to stare at.”
I walk over to my camera bag and screw my lens on my Sony. “I changed my mind. I’m going to film some shots of the atmosphere first and then I will figure out what to focus the first episode on,” I let her know. “Just some artsy clips of the bar before customers get here.”
“Good idea,” she responds. “I’ll go stand in the kitchen to get out of your way.” She points to the metal door that leads to the back.
“No, stay,” I tell her quickly. “You’re part of the atmosphere.”
Olive half laughs. “Okay. I'll go stand in the background like an NPC.”
Laughing with her, I explain, “No, just do what you normally would in a morning. Like I’m not here.”
“Okay. That I can do.”
