Page 36 of Filthy Rich

As if he can tell he shocked us, Everett kicks a can, which skitters down the hall.

And slams into Jake’s black boot.

“Hey, O.” He smiles, dimples in full force. “I heard you were done, and I thought you might be ready to go a little early.”

Morgan’s mouth drops open and then turns into a smile as she shifts toward me and away from Jake. She tightens her hands into fists and shakes them at me. “Go O,” she mouths. “Have so much fun!”

“She’s ready,” Bea says. “You two have fun.”

“Or not,” Everett mutters.

Words seven and eight, all in the same thirty seconds. It’s a tiny miracle.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” I wave as I awkwardly walk away from my friends and toward Jake Priest.

At some point I should try to think of him as just Jake, probably, but I can’t. Not yet. He’s still Jake Priest to me.

“Where are we going?” I gesture at my dark jeans and hot pink silk blouse. “Am I dressed alright?”

Jake slaps his forehead. “Idiot. Bea told me that when I liked a girl, I needed to tell her how to dress before we went to do something. I’m sorry if that stressed you out. Yes, though, you look fine.” He smiles. “Better than fine.”

I can feel the heat rising in my face, and I duck my head.

Blushes do not look good with my burn.

And I really want to look good tonight, in the spirit of the lily. Or at least, as good as I possibly can look. It’s a sliding scale over here, especially standing next to Mr. Perfect.

Jake shoves his hands into his pockets. He’s wearing dark jeans too, like we coordinated or something, and his royal blue shirt makes his eyes really stand out. He bites his lip and waits for a few seconds before finally speaking. He’s really got the Hollywood actor timing down. “If you think this sounds lame, I can come up with something else. I just try not to go to movies—I get mobbed usually—and you can’t really talk during them either.”

“You think going to the movies is a bad date?” I can’t help raising my eyebrows. “Alert the media!” Now I’m smiling broadly. “Jake Priest, not a fan of movies, ladies and gentlemen.”

He grabs my wrist, spins around, and starts walking, forcing me to jog alongside him. And then he slides his hand against mine, entwining our fingers.

It’s like a scene in a movie.

He’s that smooth.

I can’t do a cartwheel, but in that moment, my heart does a back flip.

For the first time, I realize I might be in trouble. The easy-breezy-Octavia who’s looking at this like a lily to enjoy and discard does not exist. I’ve been on my date with Jake for exactly nineteen seconds, and I’m all in.

How pathetic am I?

I do manage to trip along down the hall and follow him into the parking lot. He slides on sunglasses, hands me a pair, and holds up his hand as we round the corner, already blocking the reporters who are waiting in a tiny mob at the edge of the lot.

“No questions, guys. First dates should be fun and exciting, shouldn’t they?”

As if his smile has blinded them, the reporters just stare at us blankly for a few seconds before hammering us with questions.

“Where are you going?”

“Have you slept together yet?”

“When did you meet?”

“It’s your first date?” one very short lady in spiky heels asks. “How can that be? Didn’t Mr. Priest say you were dating already?”

Jake doesn’t miss a beat. “First official date, yes.” He shakes his finger. “But you little vixens, I said no questions. Please have a little respect and shoo.” He waves at them with his free hand.

---