She made an exasperated sound. “You’re not hearing me, 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 of anything. 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 never this way.” 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?”
She gripped her coffee cup with both hands, looking down at her bloodless fingers, nerves pulsing through her. “I don’t know.”
“Hey,” he said, his tone cajoling her to look up. “I promise you’re safe with me. I’m not going to make fun of you. I’m not going to tell you you’re doing it wrong. If it doesn’t work, I’m not going to blame you.” He smiled. “And I swear, this isn’t some ploy to get alone time with the Miz Poppy.”
Her lips parted in surprise.
“I mean, I did tell you I loved her.”
Her. Like Miz Poppy was a different person.
“I wouldn’t think that. I know what you meant.” He meant not Hollyn. He loved the image of Miz Poppy like everyone else, not the reality.
“Classes will be a pressure-free zone. Just one friend teaching another.” He shrugged. “And if, in return, you can give my show an honest review, I’d be forever indebted.”
The look he was giving her was so openly earnest that she couldn’t look away. Take one-on-one classes with a guy she was hopelessly attracted to and embarrass herself trying to do improv in front of him? This sounded like the worst plan in the history of the universe.
But he was right. She didn’t want to lose her job. What could it hurt to try?
If nothing else, she’d just had a full conversation with him. Jasper had somehow, without her knowing it, moved from the stranger zone to a person she could talk to without a panic attack. That was a precious thing in her world.
She wanted friends at work. With Andi and now Jasper, she would have two people she could talk to.
She inhaled deeply and tried to quiet the screaming banshee in her head. “Okay. I’ll…give it a try. But I reserve the right to back out at any time. And I’m not promising you a great review. An honest review will be honest.”
Jasper’s face lit up, and he lifted a fist in victory. “Fantastic. You made the right call, Hollyn Darling. This is going to be so much fun.”
“This is going to be absolute torture,” she replied, deadpan.
He laughed and then nodded at her plate. “Hush that negativity and eat your cinnamon roll. We’ve got plans to make, my friend.”
My friend.
That sounded…kind of amazing.
She vowed then and there that this was what Jasper would be. She could ogle him because…hello, she was human and had hormones and hadn’t been touched by hands other than her own in a really, really long time, but she needed to stop thinking about him as someone she was attracted to. That only amped up her nerves and made her tics worse, anyway. She needed to take that layer out of play. He wasn’t interested in her like that, and she could use a friend more than she needed an unrequited crush. She had been through enough of those already.