Page 92 of Filthy Rich

“Actually.” I cringe a little, but I forge ahead. “It looks like those are gone, too. I’m so sorry. I can run out and get you some.”

“Thank you,” the woman says. “I really appreciate it. I have to go pick up my kid from school. I can’t hide in here all day.”

I glance down at my blouse, which is now half-covered by a brown blob, and has the notable addition of tiny, soggy flecks of paper towel that have stuck all over it.

Ugh.

I’m brushing them off as I walk out of the bathroom and run—SMACK—right into some man’s back. When he turns around, I realize our movie’s a rom com. Or at least a comedy. The man I just smashed into is Jake, and I can’t think of a time in the last month that I’ve looked more pathetic than I do right now.

“Hey,” I say lamely.

His eyes widen as he glances down at my shirt.

“I can explain,” I say.

He smirks. “I’m sure it has something to do with Bea. This has her name written all over it.”

Just then, my phone starts ringing. “Speaking of.” I show him the screen and hit talk. “Oh my word, you’re never going to believe this.”

“What?” I ask.

“While I was inside the store buying your shirt, some huge delivery truck totaled my car.”

Jake’s eyes widen, so I know he’s listening. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but my car looks like it needs to go in a recycling bin.” She moans. “And you’re stuck there, waiting, and I have no idea how long this will take.”

“I can help,” Jake says.

“Hey!” Bea sounds desperate. “Is that Jake, or am I hallucinating his voice now?”

He laughs.

“It is,” I say. “I just rammed into him by mistake.”

“Oh, thank goodness. The cop just got here. I have to go. I’ll call you back!” She hangs up.

“Erm, did you want me to take you home, or to a store? Or you can hide in the bathroom and I’ll?—”

“Oh, no!” I grab his arm. “The bathroom!” I point. “I left a woman in there with no toilet paper.” I close my eyes and sigh. “See, I’d used all the paper towels, and then these women used all the toilet paper, and I was the only person in there, and she has to pick up her kid.”

“So you want me to. . .what?”

“Can you go get a roll of toilet paper from the men’s bathroom?” I make prayer hands.

“The rolls are encased in plastic and they’re huge.”

“You can press a button and they come open.” I mime doing it.

Jake snorts and shakes his head. “Only you.” But he ducks into the bathroom and comes out a moment later. “I had to wrestle this out of the arms of a very beefy man.”

“I’m so impressed.” I assume he’s kidding until I hear shouting. “Wait, did you really?”

“We should go.”

I’m still pretty sure he’s kidding, but I hear some grumbling, so I grab Jake’s arm and yank him into the ladies’ room. “Were you serious?” I look up at him.

He shrugs. “Maybe a little bit.”

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