Billionaire Beast

“Oh, hey,” I tell him, “talk to me later when you’ve got a minute. I’ve got an idea for the film.”

“Great,” Dutch says, smiling with only half his mouth. “I’ll see you on set.”

Dutch will usually listen to an idea, but unless it’s something that came directly out of his head or directly off of the pages of the script, he’s not likely to change any of his plans.

So, I get to makeup and I get to wardrobe and I take a few minutes to make sure I’m solid on my lines. When I feel comfortable enough there, I find Emma.

“Hey,” she says. “Today’s the big day, huh?”

“What do you

mean?” I ask.

“Well,” she says, “it’s not every day you get to kiss on film with a Hollywood starlet.”

She must be in a good mood.

“Yeah,” I answer, “not every day. So, I had some last minute thoughts about how we should play the kiss—”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re going to do that,” she says.

“Do what?” I ask. “If you think you’re going to be able to make it through this script without the two of us filming, you’re out of your mind.”

“Not that,” she says. “I’m just saying that I think I can get through this scene without the guidance of Damian Jones.”

I smile.

“All right,” I tell her, “if you really think you can do this thing solo. I will remind you, though, that I have won all kinds of awards and people usually listen when I give them acting advice.”

“That’s got to be hard on them,” she says, “listening to all that drivel and still having to act afterward.”

“Oh, ha ha,” I mock.

“Jones, Roxy, they’re ready for you,” one of the stagehands calls.

“You ready for this?” I ask. “We didn’t really prepare the way we were going to, so—”

I’m interrupted by Emma’s mouth falling on my own. Her arms wrap around me, and she’s breathing heavy as her lips move over mine.

The kiss lasts about 10 seconds, but every one of those moments is an entirely new feeling, a new rush of blood and endorphins, a new opportunity for me to completely forget everything else in existence.

She pulls away, says, “Yep, I think I’m good,” and makes her way to the set.

Holy shit.

I normally wouldn’t even think this way, but I might have to throw the scene a few times just so I can feel that again. What was that?

Chapter Nine

Ethanol and the Demands of the Theater

Emma

I think when I got to the set my first day there were a lot of people who were asking themselves and each other if I could really hack it in a major motion picture, but in the three weeks after Damian and I got that first onscreen kiss under our belts, people’s perspectives on me seem to have changed.

Now it seems like all the people who would only ever roll eyes when I walked past are coming up to me for an autograph for their nephew or their cousin or for eBay—I appreciated Claude’s honesty on that one, but he did not receive an autographed headshot.

Things are pretty good.