Blonde Barbie Interruption

She stiffened immediately, her eyes went up to meet the person. It was a man.

A blonde barbie man.

Not actually that, but he was blonde and bright. Blonde hair, stupidly perfect teeth, a smile like a toothpaste commercial. He looked like the kind of guy who'd sell a haunted house with a wink and call it "charming fixer-upper potential."

Who the hell...?

Caius's eyes flickered between them.

"I've been looking everywhere for you." he tone was teasing.

Heather blinked. She was thrown by the sudden familiarity. There was something about his presence that seemed to shift the air in the room. Caius face darkened as he watched.

"I'm Jake Calloway," the man said, extending a hand to Caius.

Caius took it, his grip tightening just a fraction too long. "Calloway?" The name rolled off his tongue like a threat.

"I've heard things about you."

"What kind of things."

Heather shifted uncomfortably. As if he noticed, "That would be a conversation for another day."

He turned to Heather. "Shall we?"

Heather took advantage of the distraction. She stood quickly, her script clutched against her chest. Jake's hand remained lightly on her shoulders as he guided her toward the door. She didn't resist. She didn't look back. She was more than happy to escape the temptation she'd just been trapped in. The temptation to scream at Caius still burned in her throat, and this ridiculous blond distraction was the only thing stopping her.

...

Outside the door, Jake finally dropped his hand, letting it fall to his side. Heather turned to face him fully, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"You're welcome." Jake shrugged, his expression calm, almost amused.

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Welcome? I didn't ask for your help."

"True," he said easily. "But you needed it anyway."

What a douche.

"Who are you?" she asked finally after the brief silence.

"Jake Calloway," he replied. "We've met, sort of. Well, not really. But I did send you a text once."

Heather's frown deepened as the memory clicked.

"The weird text," she muttered under her breath.

"Weird works, doesn't it?" Jake grinned.

"What are you a stalker? And who do you think you are telling me to meet you in your house?" She crossed her arms, unimpressed.

"I never said that. And I am Jake, like I said" He looked around to the attention she was causing. She didn't realize she was raising her voice.

"So, now you're a liar? Jake?" She stretched out the pronunciation of his name.

"No. Did you even look up the address?"

"Didn't need to. It's obvious what you want."

"Is that so? Why don't you tell me what I want."

"No, you tell me."

"Coffee," he said casually. "Let's go grab coffee."

"Coffee?"

"Yes. It's the address to a coffee shop." He paused, "For someone who knows what I want, you sound so surprised." He raised his brow.

"I can't grab coffee now,"

"Why not?" he asked. "Unless you'd prefer tomorrow?"

Heather hesitated. She didn't want to stretch this into another day. "Fine," she said finally. "Let's go now."

---

Heather sat across from Jake, her coffee untouched as she stared into the creamy liquid. She preferred frappuccino with whipped cream and marshmallows. The coffee shop was small and quiet.

She wasn't sure why she had agreed to this. It felt awkward, unnatural, and yet… here she was.

Jake leaned back in his chair, watching her with a faint smile.

"You're quiet."

"I have nothing to say," Heather replied, glancing up briefly before looking back at her coffee.

"Fair enough. But if you don't mind me saying, you seem like someone who's got a lot on their mind." he chuckled softly.

Heather sighed, finally lifting her cup to take a small sip.

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really," he said, his grin widened "You're pretty entertaining."

She rolled her eyes but said nothing. The silence stretched again, this time longer. She was starting to regret this whole coffee idea. What was she even thinking?

"So," Jake said, leaning back in his chair. "How's the… 'creative process' treating you?"

Heather snorted lightly.

"You don't actually care about my creative process."

"Maybe not," Jake admitted, "But you look like you could use a distraction."

"It's fine," she said shortly.

They chatted lightly, the conversation easy but he kept talking about his life. It wasn't until Jake mentioned something about school, some vague comment she didn't catch fully, that Heather stiffened.

Heather's head snapped up.

"What time is it?" she asked quickly, her voice tight.

Jake glanced at his watch. "Almost eleven."

"I've got to go. It's an emergency" she pushed her chair back and grabbed her bag.

"Oh. Same time tomorrow?"

"Don't push your luck."

He laughed as she walked away.