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He laughed and grabbed a towel to clean the icing off his hand. “And—oh,oh.” A flicker of horror went over his face, and he dropped the towel like it’d burned him. “You were at my show that night toreview it?”
She nodded. “Give the boy a prize.”
“Son of a bitch.We were going to get a Miz Poppy review?” His tone sounded heartbroken. “That would’ve been… Dammit. I screwed it all up.”
“Your appendix saved you.” She lifted a brow. “You should be glad you caught up with me that night. I almost annihilated you guys.”
“But you didn’t. You didn’t review us at all.” He grinned like he’d just received the main item on his Christmas list.
“I’m not heartless. I couldn’t take down a guy who had to pee in a cup. Plus, I only saw a few minutes of the show. That wouldn’t have been a fair review.”
“Hollyn, this is—I know you’re having a freak-out and I’m sorry about that, but this is the best news I’ve heard all day.” He gave her this adorable look of wonder. “Do you know what this means?”
“I’m about to lose my job?”
“No. You can’t lose your job. If you could get my group a good Miz Poppy review, that would be everything.” He put his hands in a praying motion and leaned closer, eyes pleading. “I need you to give us another chance. I swear we’re good. I swear I’m not usually an asshole. That night was an anomaly.”
She made an exasperated sound. “You’re nothearingme, Jasper. I’m going to have to quit. And they’re going to have to hire someone else to be Miz Poppy. I can’t do what they’re asking me to do.”
He frowned and dropped his hands to his sides. “Of course you can.”
She scoffed. “Says the improv guy who isn’t afraid of anything.”
“Well, I don’t know about not being afraid ofanything. I’m not a sociopath. And have you ever seen a black widow spider? Those things are fucking scary,” he said gravely. “But not being afraid to be onstage in front of people? That’s just something you can learn. I wasn’t always that way.”
“Maybe not, but I bet you were neverthisway.” She pointed to herself. “I can’t imagine you shy.”
He tilted his head. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean—” His eyes brightened. “Hey, I could teach you.”
“Teach me? Jasper—”
“No, I’m serious,” he said, a crackle of electric energy in his voice. “I’m going to be giving improv classes here. They’ll be free to members. You could join up. Learn with your coworkers. It will help you to loosen up and move through the fear. You can practice in front of people here. You’ll learn to think quicker on your feet and won’t be so afraid of making a mistake.”
She stared at him like he was speaking another language. “Me? In an improv class with my coworkers? You’re out of your goddamned mind. I’d rather go to the dentist and get all my teeth pulled without pain meds or enter a cage with a hungry lion. That’s like worst-nightmare stuff for me. Black widow spiders everywhere.”
His enthusiastic expression dimmed, and he reached out and put his hand over hers. “Come on. It won’t be that bad. This could help us both. I need my group to get noticed. I want to buy a theater, but I need investors. You don’t want to lose this job, and you shouldn’t. You’re freaking amazing at it. We could help each other. Win-win.”
His hand was warm and heavy over hers, and she appreciated his earnestness, but the thought of getting up in front of a group of WorkAround people and trying to do improv was ludicrous. No way. Not ever. “I’m sorry. I can’t. People…freak me out. Performing in front of people might actually kill me dead. I’m serious. I’m in therapy for this.”
He considered her, brows knitted, and then he tipped his head toward her. “What about just me then?”
She tried to read his expression. “What do you mean?”
“Private lessons. Free ones. Just one-on-one,” he said, talking slower, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I can teach you some of the tricks of improv. We can get you practicing on video. But no one else has to see you or the videos yet besides me. Safe space.”
She stared at him. “Safe space. Embarrassing myself in front of you?”
That didn’t sound safe at all. That sounded horrible. Super extra horrible.
“Of course. You don’t have to worry about looking ridiculous in front of me. My job is to look ridiculous.” He lifted his hand from hers and braced it on the counter, leaning closer, his gaze fervent. “Do you know how much power there is in learning not to give a fuck if you look stupid?”
She wet her lips, his nearness making her all kinds of nervous. He smelled like dark roast and cinnamon. “I can’t…”
“It’s like a drug, Hollyn,” he said softly. “It’s taking control back from everyone else and saying, ‘This is who I am and I don’t give a damn what you think.’ When you get to that place, you hold all the chips in the poker game. They can’t beat you. The fear fades.”
She closed her eyes, the picture he was painting pure fantasy but tempting nonetheless. “I don’t think I’m capable.”
“What’s the alternative?” he asked, voice quiet. “Giving up? Quitting your job? Isn’t it worth at least trying?”
