Dorothy scribbled it on her pad. “Got it. Shouldn’t take long. Oh, Jason, I asked the owner if I could put your flier in the window. He said sure.”
“Oh, good.” The townspeople promoted my event better than I did. “I’ll bring one over.”
I watched as she walked into the back, pulling at the bottom of her work shirt. It was nicer than the pub, but I thought making her wear a uniform was a bit overkill. It meant that the owner was an out-of-stater and didn’t quiteunderstand our culture. I gave it a week before she was in a t-shirt and jeans.
“What’s on the agenda for today?”
I tried to sort through the mental to-do list. The convention had taken over my life. If I wasn’t talking to vendors, I was reaching out to the schools. The comic shop had turned into a home base for this project, but I still had to check in with other shops on the green.
“Today? Not much. Lots of emails and phone calls. Over the next few weeks, I need to pop into the shops and make sure everybody is ready.”
“You mean I can work on my comic today?”
I shot Amanda a look. If she didn’t spend all her time procrastinating, she’d have finished months ago. What she called her ‘process’ was one part work and two parts surfing the internet for videos of puppies yawning.
“Oh, that reminds me.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. With a couple clicks, she slid it across the small table. There was a picture of me with a play button. The only thing worse than recording the promo would be hearing it. I pressed the button, ready to cringe at the sound of my voice.
When it finished, I couldn’t hide my shock. It wasn’t half bad. “Lots of editing going on there.” She had strung together the dozen takes into one decent video.
She reached over the table and flipped to another video. “This one is my favorite.” She clicked play for me.
“Hi, my name is. Hi. Hi. Hillo.” The blooper reel wasdownright horrific. I slowly raised my eyes to see the smile stretched across her face. She cackled in response.
“I’m going to kill you. You better not?—”
“Post it? Oh yeah, too late. The good one is doing fine. Your blooper reel has over two hundred shares. The comments are hilarious.”
“You’re dead.” I threw myself back in my chair, crossing my arms as I imagined strangling her. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Over two hundred people have rsvp’d.”
“What?”
Amanda leaned back in her chair, resting her hands behind her head. I hated that her idea paid off. She’d rub my nose in it for days. Why were we friends?
“Seems they only needed a reason to click the invite. It’s not a terrible start. I’m thinking we should do a whole series of videos. It’ll be like those fail videos. Maybe all the times you trip over boxes?”
I was about to open my mouth when Dorothy came to the rescue. She set our plates down. The tongue-lashing would have to wait until I filled my belly. I stopped to admire the plate. I scrolled social media and always mocked the food porn. How long did they spend making it look like a work of art? Seeing it in person had me reconsidering my opinion.
Amanda wasted no time taking a bite of her toast. Dorothy didn’t need to ask if she liked it. The muffled moans meant we’d be eating here again. She hadn’t finishedthe first bite when she took another. The thumbs up was all the approval Dorothy needed.
She wandered off as I took my first bite. The egg had a runny center, and the bacon had been cooked to perfection. It was my turn to moan. I see why Mom liked the place. I’d accept a date from Gerald if he brought me here. Even Dorothy gave us weird looks as we moaned our way through the meal.
“You’re both fools.” She shook her head but couldn’t hide the smile. “Should I let the chef know?”
“Yes,” I said. Amanda and I swapped plates. If the toast was half as good as my sandwich, I’d take back all my hate toward avocados. “Give our compliments to the chef.”
Amanda chomped down on a slice of bacon. “From now on, we’re having convention meetings here. I won’t complain about vendor applications if I get more bacon.”
I eyed the toast, hesitant. Was I prepared to be a man who ordered avocado toast? I closed my eyes and took a bite. Creamy. Crunchy. Did I taste jalapeño? My eyes shot open, ready to declare myself a convert.
“Ilufit.”
“That’s what Dorothy says.” I froze. That voice. Turning toward the kitchen, Simon walked out wearing a white chef’s jacket. My almost-anonymous hookup had set up shop across the green from the comic shop? Oh, God. How did I play this?
“This is delicious,” Amanda said. “Firefly needs more places like this. If you could help the guys at Frank’simprove their pizza, it’d be appreciated. You can’t be from around here.”
