“I’ll say that if I never see my name in the press again, I’d be completely fine with that,” I offer. “Not going to discuss my underwear situation, though.”
“Jazmyn,” Steve says in warning. I bet he has a hell of a time keeping her wrangled in, but he seems to be managing okay with it. For now. I just hope he can keep her on target for the festival.
As the waiter returns with the check, he sets down four small glasses of green liquid so bright it almost matches Jazmyn’s eyeliner.
“What’s that? It looks like antifreeze,” I ask in slight disgust. My stomach’s already revolting at the idea of anything that color being edible.
“Plant shots. Pureed seaweed, lemongrass, phytonutrients, B12, CBD, turmeric, maca, and basil. It helps with digestion.” Jazmyn picks hers up, holding it high. “Cheers, bitches.” And without clinking against anyone’s glass, she downs it in one go. “Ahh.”
I blink, not believing what I’m seeing. “You did not just drink that,” I murmur.
“It’s good for you, old man. Keeps the pipes clean. Definitely better than bourbon if that’s really what you drink,” she answers, showing that she was listening earlier. Plus, there’s a dare laced through her words.
Steve picks his up, apparently used to these ground-up weed smoothies, and then Jayme does the same. They look at me, waiting, but I just look at Jazmyn in amused shock. “Did you just call me . . . old?” I ask, trying not to be offended.
She shrugs.
“Well, in that case,” I say, raising my glass. Feeling the pressure, I pick it up and take a sniff. It smells like . . . a freshly mowed lawn. Not exactly a scent that makes me think ‘yum.’
“Chug, chug, chug,” Jazmyn chants, getting into it.
Just do it, man. It can’t be that bad.
Without warning, Jayme and Steve both turn it back on cue, leaving me the lone holdout.
Jayme’s tongue slips out to lick her lip and then she smiles. “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be.”
It gives me the courage I need, and I tilt my head back and pour the stuff down as quickly as I can.
“Ugh! Ma gawd, thut’s aw-ful,” I gasp, smacking my lips to try and get my throat to open up again.
Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I swallow thickly again, trying to lose the taste but no dice. Coughing deeply, I look over at Jazmyn, who’s giggling. “Not bad.”
“Sir, are you okay? Do you need some seltzer, perhaps?” the waiter asks, popping up at my side out of nowhere. All I can see in my mind is something out of an old slapstick comedy movie, with the waiter spraying me in the face with a seltzer bottle, which makes me laugh. That makes me cough anew.
“Shit,” I hiss, reaching for my mimosa. I take a swig of that, but orange juice, champagne, and yard clippings don’t taste good together either, so I resort to chugging what’s left of my water. Somehow, I manage to choke on that too. I thought spring water was supposed to be all smooth and natural?
“I think he’s going to die,” Jazmyn stage-whispers.
“You said it wasn’t that bad,” I accuse Jayme.
She shakes her head. “No, I said it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. It was worse.”
I’m reeling from that gross taste and the betrayal, but her vibrant laugh helps me relax a bit. “I’ll get you for that,” I warn, not meaning it in the slightest.
“I’m not sure LA is right for you, Carson,” Steve taunts.
“I think I’m ready to eat delivery pizza and drink a bourbon in my plant-free home,” I answer. Though when I glance to Jayme, there are several other things I’d like to do at home too.
CHAPTER 14
JAYME
“I have a surprise for you,” I tease as we walk out of Green Goddess into the sunshine of an LA afternoon. I can’t believe how that meeting went, careening from disaster to success to comedy seemingly minute by minute, but I’m glad Jazmyn is completely sold on the festival idea. The signed contract in my bag is a relief of epic proportions.
There’s still more to today, though.
“A surprise?” Carson repeats hotly, his gentlemanly hand on my back moving to my hip and squeezing suggestively.
I slip him a coy smile. “I think you’ll like it.”
A groan rumbles in his chest as he pushes me toward the waiting car. “I need to kiss you after that amazing performance in there, but I know I can’t do that here. Get in.”
I nod at Carlo as I dip into the car, and Carson follows me, closing the door behind himself. Pressed up against me, thigh to thigh, he cups my jaw. Before a single word can be said or the car gets started, his lips find mine as he kisses the hell out of me.