Page 4 of Filthy Rich

Unexpected.

Painful.

Debilitating.

“That’s not true at all,” Bea’s eyes flash, “and it was horribly mean. You should apologize immediately.”

“I think her words are more a reflection of her ugliness than anything else,” Jake says, so quietly, so casually, that I almost don’t register their meaning. “An apology from her’s worthless anyway. Don’t bother asking.”

Patrice’s big, beautiful eyes widen, and she blinks. “I—I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude, and of course, not true. I was just so shocked. I haven’t seen anything like the burns on your face before, and. . .” Her face has flushed quite red.

“It’s fine,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can see why they said you and I would be filming the scenes for the music videos,” she whispers. “Because who would want to look at. . .” She sniffs.

A muscle in Jake’s jaw tightens and releases. For a moment, I worry that he’ll criticize her again, making a big scene. It would be the exact wrong thing to do, of course, since it would only draw more attention to me.

Thankfully, he doesn’t.

“Looks like we’re out of time,” Jake mutters. “Come on, Patty. Let’s go get this scene over with.”

“Yes,” Patrice says. “Of course. Work first. Play later.”

If the sides of Jake’s eyes tighten and the slant of his lips is a little hard, well, I don’t know him that well. Maybe I’m misinterpreting it.

“I can see why he hates her,” Bea whispers. “She’s horrible.”

“Wait, he hates her?” Morgan has leaned so close that she’s inches from toppling over on Bea. “Because I’d pee on her Cheerios with a smile on my face, and we just met.”

Bea chuckles. “He didn’t know her when they chose her for this part, but he said she’s arrogant, irritating, and obtuse.”

I’d say those are all accurate descriptions.

“Well, you couldn’t pay me enough to kiss her.” Morgan scowls. “I’d be worried my lips would wither and fall off.”

That makes me laugh, and the camera crew, as well as Patrice and one of the set guys, all glare.

Jake, however, looks amused. He catches my eye and winks.

After that, I feel a little better. It helps to know he doesn’t like Patrice the Poop. If I hadn’t just noticed, and if Bea hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t be able to tell he disliked Patrice at all. When he slams one hand beside her head, his eyes fixed on hers, his teeth biting his lip, my heart hammers in my chest. And then when his head drops slowly, so painfully slowly toward her mouth, I forget to breathe. He’s a really good actor, and I’m not the only one to notice. Bea, Morgan, and even Eddy are all watching intently.

Even without our soundtrack, this scene’s going to be epic.

When they finally kiss, I can’t help a small sigh.

But the second the director yells cut, Jake drops her like a burning coal and pivots on his heel. “We good?”

“One take?” The director whistles. “Let’s make sure we got it from every angle first.”

Jake nods, walking back toward us.

“How long will you need the song to run?” Bea asks, the second he reaches us. “Because it looks like the scene’s about three minutes, and I think the song’s only going to be two and a half, but we could do a reprise, or we could add another verse.”

“I’d have to hear it to say,” Jake says. “But you know we want the swell to happen right as the kiss does.”

Bea nods. “Right, so maybe not a reprise.”

Jake shrugs. “Loses some impact, really. We could also segue from--”