“What can I get ya?” The lady was probably in her mid-fifties, but there was a youthfulness to her light-colored eyes.

“Um, I’m not much of a drinker, especially not during the day. What would you suggest?” One way to fit in was to be friendly with the workers.

“Well, what brings you in here? You lost?”

I wondered if her question was deeper than surface level, but I kept my response in the middle. “I think I’m where I’m supposed to be, but I’ve had a rough day.”

“Okay, well, do you want something like a Mind Eraser, or are you looking more for a Leg Spreader?”

I cleared my throat, trying not to show my shock at the two ends of the spectrum. "Well, I haven't tried either, but maybe there’s something in the middle?" I had no clue what that would be, but surely one drink wouldn’t knock me on my ass.

“All right, a Tight Snatch coming up.”

I gazed at her curiously, wondering how that was a compromise between my prior options, but I wouldn’t argue. As she made my drink, I spun around on the stool and noticed that most of the once curious gazes were now diverted. But a group of three women in the back were facing my way.

The low lighting cast shadows over them, obscuring their features, but they were possibly staring at me.

“Here ya go. One Tight Snatch.” I turned back to the bartender and tried not to laugh.

The thought, “That’s what she said,” floated through my mind, but it made me sad now because it reminded me of Shiloh.

I picked up my drink, which was pink and fruity-looking, and used the little umbrella to stir it. I started slowly, taking a small sip to ease my tastebuds into this new experience. It was sweet but enjoyable. While I nursed the drink, I pulled out my phone and saw a load of notifications, mostly from Matrix but a couple from Shiloh. I wasn’t ready to go back to the real world, so I turned off my phone and focused on pushing the unwanted thoughts out of my head.

As I took my next drink, someone approached the bar and sat beside me. I peeked in her direction but didn’t make eye contact. I assumed she was placing an order, so I focused on my glass, avoiding any potentially awkward conversation.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” Her voice was throaty but soft.

Now, I had no choice but to acknowledge her. “No bother. What’s up?” I took a sip and waited for her response.

“You’re not Caz Montgomery, are you?” She seemed overly curious, and I wanted to roll my eyes.

Typically, that was an opener for someone to start flirting or ask for a favor.

“I am she.” A fake smile played on my lips as I prepared for what she would say next.

“Did you used to date Davia Mikaelson?”

What the fuck? Where did that come from? Shock and nausea surged through me, making my face burn with an intense heat. I gulped down the remainder of my drink, desperately seeking relief from these unsettling feelings.

“Why do you ask?” I came here to escape the thoughts of Shiloh and Ember, but I didn't want memories of Davia to take their place.

“Because I didn’t believe her when she told me.” She glanced over her shoulder, and I followed her line of sight—the table in the back.

She was here… right now? Of course, she was. Why would I expect anything different? The universe had a PhD in being an asshole.

Chapter 22Shiloh

When I looked into Ember’s light-brown eyes, everything Caz had coached me to say went out the window. I didn’t know what to do, so I ordered and moved to the side as usual. Being with Caz felt natural and easy, and she increased my confidence. But now, I stood here like a fool, and she wouldn’t get the footage she needed for the show.

Once my coffee was ready, Ember called my name, and I hoped to redeem myself, but when her fingers touched mine, there wasn’t a coherent thought in my head.

“Thank you. Your eyes match that coffee stain on your apron.” That probably wasn’t the compliment Caz had meant for me to say.

“You’re funny.” She giggled as she twisted her mahogany hair around her finger.

I hadn’t meant to make her laugh, but I savored the sound as it reverberated in my ears. While it lacked the same comforting vibe as Caz's, it still brightened my mood.

“I get off at two today.” As her eyes danced with excitement, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

“That’s good. I hope you enjoy your afternoon.”

“Shiloh.” Her voice softly whispered my name, sending chills down my body. “That was an invitation.”

I nodded as if I understood but was unsure that I did. “Oh? You want me to join you?”

“Yes, silly.” She wrote something down on a napkin and handed it to me. “Let me know when you’re free.”

I stared at the number with a heart at the bottom and couldn’t believe this was happening. Caz would get her story, and I would get my happy ending. I didn’t even make myself sick with nerves.

My endearing awkwardness was probably wearing thin, so I needed to end the conversation. “I’ll talk to you soon.” I offered a small wave and turned to leave.

Usually, I would have sat in the back and nonchalantly continued to watch her while she worked, but now that I had a date coming up, I needed Caz even more.

I briefly scanned the room for her, but she wasn’t around. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I headed outside to see if she was waiting there, but she wasn’t. When I reached the parking lot, I noticed her car was gone, so I pulled out my phone to see if she had messaged me, but nothing.

She had been off all day, and now I was worried. I shot off a text asking her where she was, but she didn’t immediately read it, which was odd. Maybe she was driving back to the station? I called the studio and was told that Caz was out on assignment. When I asked to speak to Matt, they said no one worked there by that name.

“I could have sworn that was what Caz called him.” Then I remembered she also used another name, but my mind was blank.

I messaged Caz one last time before realizing she wasn’t answering. I sighed deeply, fully aware that I was left with no other alternative but to pursue my last resort. I dialed Sonya’s number, hoping I could get information about Matt from her or Devon.

“Hey, cuz. How’s it going?” She was eating something as she smacked into the phone.

“Um, it’s going. Do you know where Devon is?” I wanted to cut to the chase because the longer Caz didn’t read my messages, the more concerned I became.

“Why do you want to know?” Who was she—her gatekeeper? She was acting like I was a cop or something.

“Because I need to speak to her.”

Devon and I were only friends by association. We didn’t have that type of relationship where we talked on the phone.

“About what?” Sonya was so nosy; I should have known this wouldn’t be a simple task.

“It is personal. Do you know where she is or not? Or can you give me her number so I can call her?” I tried to hide my annoyance, but it was hard.

“Chill out. She’s right here.”

“Hey,” Devon’s voice sounded through the phone, and I was slightly grateful.