Free Kiss and Confess (Love Unscripted Book 1) by Jane Lynne Daniels Page B

you a favor?”
    The man lowered his sunglasses. “Well, aren’t you pretty.”
    Ugh.
    “Thanks. It would just take a couple minutes of your time.”
    “Uh-huh. And if I do you a favor, what are you going to do for me?” He winked. Not in a kind stranger way, but in a lewd way that made her want to throw up.
    “Absolutely nothing. Never mind.” She kept walking.
    “Hey,” he called from behind her. “Don’t go, girlie. We can work something out.”
    She’d rather step in a steaming pile of dog poop. Barefoot.
    She spotted two younger women walking opposite her, excitedly pointing at buildings and raising their cameras to snap photos. As she came closer, she realized they were speaking a different language. Charley stopped. “Hello?” she said to them.
    The women also stopped, bobbing their heads. “Hello,” responded one, the word heavily accented.
    “Could you do me a quick favor?”
    The women looked at each other, confused.
    “For a TV show?”
    “TV,” the one repeated, nodding her head.
    “Yes. Will you come with me? Please?”
    “TV.”
    “This way.” Charley gestured for them to follow her. She brought them back to where Marc and the cameramen were standing. Marc had his head down and was talking to himself as one cameraman filmed him.
    Charley pointed at the camera and told the excited women, “Stay. Right here.” She pointed at the sidewalk and then the camera. “See? TV.”
    The girls chattered words she couldn’t understand and pulled out combs and mirrors.
    They had the right idea. Two down, three to go.
    A few minutes later, she’d managed to round up a store clerk on a smoke break and two middle-aged women with giant purses and thick glasses by promising them exclusive access to a five-minute event outside The Comedy Store.
    “Ready,” she told Marc.
    He faced the assembled group, rubbing his hands together.
    “Knock ’em dead,” Charley said in his ear.
    He nodded in sharp jerks of his head. One camera trained its lens on him and the other focused on the crowd.
    “Thank you all for coming.” Marc looked tense. Not a good sign.
    Charley stepped to the back of the group, right behind the two young women who didn’t speak the language. She pantomimed laughing for them, pointing at Marc and then cracking up. Hopefully, that wasn’t against the rules. It wasn’t stipulated, so she could argue it if she had to.
    The two women looked at Marc and laughed, then back at Charley for approval. She gave them a thumbs-up.
    “So I’m from out of town,” Marc began. “And the first thing I see on the Sunset Strip is The Comedy Store.” He gestured at the club behind him. “I’m thinking…what? I can go inside and buy comedy? Do they have aisles labeled raunchy, pre-teen, or 90s humor?”
    Silence. Charley poked the two women in front of her and again mimicked laughter, pointing at the camera. They laughed uproariously for thirty seconds then stopped, turning to her for approval.
    The two older women looked at each other, shaking their heads. The store clerk dropped his cigarette, rubbed it out with his shoe, and turned to leave. Charley put out a hand to stop him. “Please. Stay,” she pleaded. “Laugh.”
    “My break’s almost over.”
    “It will only take a minute. Really. You’ll get to be on TV.”
    He shook his head. “Round here, everybody’s on TV.”
    “Please.”
    Grudgingly, he turned back around to face Marc. “Gotta do better than that, buddy,” he said.
    “A comedy store,” Marc repeated, sounding more desperate now. “You know, instead of buying milk and bread, you buy laughs. They ring you up and give you a receipt. But no returns. They don’t take back used laughs.”
    Another poke in the back from Charley and the two tourists laughed.
    “Good Lord,” said one of the middle-aged women.
    “Are you shittin’ me?” asked the store clerk.
    Charley had to do something. “I think there’s a sale today,” she called. “Buy Kevin Hart, get Kevin