Page 46 of Fool's Gold

Jacob roars with laughter. I blink at him, struggling to keep up, wondering where I’ve missed the joke.

“Because you’re talented. Because your parents were legends and I lost my chance to work with them. A host of reasons, Empire. I’d be happy to lay them all out on the table for you sometime.”

He takes another sip of champagne, and the paparazzi snap away, capturing the moment like it’s something noteworthy.

I shrug. “At least you’re honest about it.”

And it’s nice to talk to someone like him. He’s not only around my age, but he understands the pressures and doesn’t put on airs. From what I’ve seen.

“Always. It’s only my second best quality, too.”

“And what would your first one be?” I turn to face him fully.

A throat clears, and the temperature drops before I see Marcus, returned from his expedition to Schmooze Island. He’s smiling, but the gesture is anything but friendly. I take an involuntary step away from Jacob.

“I’d hoped you two would eventually make the rounds,” he bites out. “Have you officially been introduced, Mr. Kessler?”

Marcus is capital-P pissed. It’s impossible to miss if you know him and easy to dismiss as something else if you’re looking at him head-on.

“Oh yes,” Jacob continues smoothly. “Once I heard Empire would be here tonight, I knew I couldn’t miss the opportunity.”

“He called me sweet,” I tell Marcus. Oof, maybe I drank too much, and my original buzz hasn’t worn off. I’m running the risk of sounding overjoyed.

Marcus is the opposite. If anything, he grows surlier than he was before, and my ass twitches in response, remembering how tender both cheeks were underneath his hands.

“He has no idea just how sweet you really are.” His voice drops into panty-melting territory, but in the next breath, he says to Jacob, “I heard they’re coming out with mixed reviews for your Bali piece.”

Crisp and abrupt. The same tone he pulls out when he’s doing something he’d rather not be. I hear it all the time.

Is this because of how I acted in the limo? I’d been the brat he named me, having heard it too many times to handle gracefully.

“Funny, I haven’t heard any mixed reviews.” Again, Jacob’s answer is immediate and relaxed, his posture easy, and his face open and friendly. “Although I’m sure the subject matter isn’t for everyone. I knew it when I accepted the script.”

They go through the mincing steps of pleasantries for a moment longer before Marcus threads his arm through mine and hauls me forward. We find our seats in the theater, Jacob offering regrets at being seated elsewhere and promising to get in touch.

He disappears without hearing Marcus growl under his breath.

“Stop,” I hiss from the corner of my mouth. “Everyone is staring at you.”

Because of the story’s about us.

“You’re acting like an animal,” I go on.

“Good.”

As hard as I tried to be the promo queen tonight, the false news pieces constantly filtered through my head.

They wanted to make up stories about me and Marcus, and now, no matter what kind of big pictures are coming out, they focus entirely too much on the two of us. Me talking to Jacob is only another layer to the story, an added threat to whatever they’ve woven and want to sell as truth.

“Let them fucking stare,” Marcus continues under his breath. “It will give them something to think about.”

“You don’t need to manhandle me,” I say, yanking discreetly at my arm. “I’m allowed to talk to a guy if I want to.” Considering all the times Marcus has thrown me away?

He’s made it clear he doesn’t see me as anything except a pawn to move around whenever he feels like it, even if he likes spanking me.

And what do I do about it? Absolutely nothing.

Guilt wars with disgust at my own behavior, and it doesn’t matter how good the screening is, I can’t stop my mind from wandering. A thousand directions at once, and I land on none of them.

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