I'm So Into You

Just A Favor

Please let this be quick and please just let him be polite.

Brett wanted to get this interview over and get home and crawl back into bed. She picked at her cuticles nervously, feeling like everyone in the cafe was looking at her.

It had only been a few days since she was let go from her job at The Word — online home of hot takes and provocative voices — after angering an advertiser with her op-ed on their labour practices. The internet news cycle moved fast, but her firing was controversial and had made mainstream news. It was a trending topic for two days in a row, which sent conservative trolls celebrating her firing in her mentions while her supporters were outraged at The Word's actions and rallying on her behalf. Losing her job was already stress-inducing enough without it being broadcast to the world and having it be the subject of cable network pundit panels.

She was at one of her favorite cafes today and interviewing some basketball player as a way to get a cheque to hold her over until everything died down. It was also a favour to her friend Deane, the editor at basketball upstart Swish. Brett had known Deane since high school, where they frequently skipped class to film videos at his house instead of causing trouble in science class. Their teacher was grateful for the reprieve from their mischievous ways and had an unspoken agreement to keep passing them as long as they promised to stop bringing a halt to her class with their antics. The writer who supposed to profile the charismatic new power forward in town bailed for a bigger assignment and Swish couldn't afford to lose this interview. For such a small outlet to get a the first chance at this story was huge. A cheque for her, a story for them — it worked.

No matter how self-conscious she felt sitting in her booth that Tuesday afternoon, she was definitely not the centre of attention at The Wife of a Close Friend. That was partially because the cafe was huge and sparsely populated, mostly full of other media types and celebrities with varying levels of fame. The cosy space in Greenwich Village was unmarked on the outside, its navy blue canopy nearly blending in with the leafy green vines covering the dark brick of its exterior and partially obscuring the windows. You wouldn't really see it unless you were looking for the hand-painted numbers '312' in the corner of the tinted front window.

The other reason they weren't looking at her was because they were too busy lifting their heads to glance at Josiah Smythe as he strode in. Even the most nonchalant person in the room was casually sneaking a peek at the 6'9" star, fresh off of his first win in New York the night before.

Dropping 28 points and throwing up nine blocks the night before aside, it would be hard not to notice Josiah — and everyone was definitely noticing. Well, everyone except for Brett. She was trying to make sure that her tidal wave of notifications were silenced for the interview so she could at least muster up the semblance of an air professionalism instead of the 'my life is collapsing beneath me' vibe she felt like she was currently giving off.

Josiah strode in with confidence in one of his trademark custom-made suits — light brown and baby blue plaid with a straight leg that bordered stylishly on wide. He was wearing a t-shirt instead of his usual game day button down, and low top Vans that made him look effortlessly cool and put together. Brett was still adjusting her phone settings when she felt the warmth and gentle touch of a large, soft hand on her shoulder.

"Brett? I'm Josiah."