“I am. Are you gonna squeeze another one in today or no?”
“I had thought about it,” I told him truthfully. “But you’re over here. And my assistant left, so it’s more time consuming to do things without her. And things always go wrong when I don’t have someone constantly making sure the audio doesn’t just suddenly cut off or a battery in the camera doesn’t die out of nowhere. It can wait until my next day off.”
Zac made a thoughtful face as he swallowed what he’d eaten. “Do one while I’m here. I know how to be quiet. If you show me, I can help.”
I made a face.
He made a face right back. “I do!” he claimed with a little laugh. “I can sit in the livin’ room like a good boy and watch.”
“Pssh.”
He grinned. “All right, but I can be, promise.” His smile melted into a soft one. “I wanna see too.”
I watched him for a second before asking, “Are you sure? It’ll probably take three hours. I’m not sure how long it’ll take the bread to bake.”
His eyes lit up. “You’re makin’ bread?”
“Pound cake.”
This fool licked his lips like I did when someone in the family made tres leches. I laughed.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I’m sure.”
I slid him a look. “All right… if you insist.”
He ate a little more and nodded. “Whatcha gotta do?”
“Change, check the LAVs—eh, the microphone—check the lighting, and fix my hair.”
“I’ll eat while you change, and I’ll help. Yeah?”
I could do it all by myself easier, but I nodded. “All right. Let me get dressed then.”
Those blue eyes moved from my face down and back again in a second. “Why? You can’t wear the same thing?”
“Nope. I did it once and people noticed.” I shrugged. “Give me ten. I’ll be right back.”
Fortunately, it didn’t even take me ten minutes to pull my shirt off and put another blouse on. Bottoms didn’t matter because no one could see them on the other side of the island. All I did was blot my face, reapply some eyeliner and lipstick, and I figured I was good to go. My face hadn’t gotten too oily since Amari had pulled the cheesecake bites out of the oven.
Zac was standing in the kitchen with his plate held against his chest, his index finger pressing against the surface to catch crumbs. He looked at me and gave me a funny smile.
“What?” I asked him, trying not to be self-conscious.
“Aww, darlin’, you look sweet as sugar.”
I batted my eyes at him sarcastically. Sweet was nice. It was what a friend would say. “Thank you.”
“How long does it take you to do that to your hair?”
“Depends on how humid it is,” I told him. He was talking about straightening it. “At least half an hour though. Why? You don’t like it?”
“I like it every way you wear it,” he said with a smile. “Can I sit in the livin’ room and watch?”
I nodded.
“It won’t make you nervous?”
“I don’t get nervous anymore doing this. I’m just self-conscious about watching my vlogs in front of other people.” Lifting my hand, I booped him on the tip of his nose. “And, Snack Pack, I used to fart in front of you. I don’t think I could get nervous in front of you if I tried. I’m sorry.”
He laughed. “And you used to blame Boogie for it.”
It was my turn to laugh. “There’s more deli meat in the fridge. Just help me get my lighting right first, would you?”
“You got it. Whatever you need.”
Between the two of us, it took about half an hour to get the lighting right. He went poking around at my windows, and I had to explain why there was paper stuck to them. Then we adjusted the camera, and I had him stand at the island to make sure there weren’t any weird shadows. If I’d been by myself, it would’ve taken a lot longer. Zac moved around into the living room, propping himself up on the couch, facing the back of it—into the kitchen area—on his knees, forearms resting on it while he peeked over.
“Are you good?” I asked, giving him a thumbs-up as I hit the record button on my camera and started to walk around the island to get into place.
“I’m good,” he called out as he finished settling in.
All right.
I wasn’t nervous, I reminded myself as I took a deep breath in and then another one out. It was like stepping into a personality with a lot