Page 18 of Filthy Rich

“It was, but a few characters were going to be played by adults, and one of those was Mrs. Higgins, the professor’s mother.”

“Okay, but your mom didn’t break out.”

“Right as her individual audition ended, someone called the applicants over to learn some moves for the racetrack scene. I overheard the director talking to the assistant, and they said she was terrible, and wouldn’t be a good fit for Mrs. Higgins.”

“That’s a lot for a kid to deal with.” Bea frowns. “But how did you wind up?—”

“I argued with them. I told them that Mom could change whatever they wanted, if only they gave her some notes. I told them they were wrong about her, and that she just needed a chance.” I wince.

“And?”

“I guess I reminded them of Eliza, popping off about injustice. They asked me to read a few scenes and we’d keep talking about how my mother would make a great Mrs. Higgins.”

“But really they wanted you.”

I shrug. “Then they asked me if I could show them how my mom would sing a few songs. I told them she was a way better singer than I was, but I did it.” I grimace. “You can see where this is going. They ended up picking me for Eliza even though I hadn’t auditioned. Mom. . .she?—”

“Oh, I bet your mom was giddy.” Bea’s eyes are dancing. “Even if she didn’t get the part, she could live vicariously through you.”

“Not exactly.” I can still see Mom’s eyes flashing, her lips thin and tight. “She was. . .unenthusiastic. She tried to talk the director into finding someone else, but I insisted on taking the role.”

The furrowed brow is back. “But if you didn’t want to do it--”

“I’d made a deal with the director,” I say. “I told him that I’d take the role, but only if he cast my mother as Mrs. Higgins.” I shrugged. “I couldn’t exactly tell Mom that I’d bargained for the first decent role she’d been offered in years. She’d have been. . .disappointed. So I kept my mouth shut and gritted my teeth and prepared to act my little heart out.”

“You’d never done a play before that?”

“I did a few plays at school,” I say, “but they upset my mom, so I avoided them after that. Mostly I did choir. Singing’s my thing, not acting.”

“When you sing you get up on stage and act some, so just channel that and today should be a breeze,” she says. “When you get nervous, remind yourself that you’re just singing.”

I roll my eyes. “While a million cameras record my face, my body, and my interactions with Jake.”

Bea smirks. “Better you than me.”

“Gee, thanks,” I say.

“But seriously,” Bea says. “You really do have a face, a body, and a voice for film. You look amazing.” She points at my eye. “You should probably redo the mascara though. Right now you look a little like Twiggy on that side, by comparison.”

She’s probably referencing some old movie or something—I swear, Bea would fit right in if she had been born in the early nineteen hundreds. I have been slowly trying to watch a few of the old movies she loves with her at night, because she makes a lot of references I just don’t get. I’ve learned it’s better not to let on that I have no idea what she’s talking about, or I’m in for an hour-long recap.

As we’re traveling to the set, this time to actually record, I can’t help my knee from bouncing.

Bea drops a hand on it. “As someone who acutely understands your reticence to do this,” she says, “let me just say. . .let Jake do the hard parts. When you get stressed out, just look my way, smile, and sing.”

“Is that what you do? You just sing and smile?” I arch an eyebrow. “Because you and Jake aren’t related, you know. You could be in the video.”

“I could if I sounded like you—but think about the PR they can get from this, once people hear your voice and see you together? You’re already trending.”

“Me and Jake?” I roll my eyes. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“The world’s prettiest man and the world’s ugliest woman?”

Bea slaps her hand against the glass in the cab. “You aren’t ugly. Stop saying that. I forbid you to say it ever again.”

The cab stops. I yank the door handle and climb out. “Just because I’m not saying something doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

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