Page 62 of My Forbidden Billionaire
Rap. As soon as the music starts, the boys break into a rap song with lyrics clearly written by themselves. We watch in horror as they rhyme—terribly—about days “in the hood” and how tough life is, even though they arrived at school this morning in limousines that cost half a million dollars each. To our dismay, the teenage girls in the audience are absolutely loving it and slowly start to cheer and even whistle. Ms. Abadie swoops in like a vulture to silence them but the girls just laugh at her.
“They’re going to regret that on Monday.” Josephine shakes her head.
Finally, the abysmal rap number is over and the boys leave the stage covered in teenage glory and success.
“Wow ... to be fifteen again and be able to impress girls just by wearing a hoodie,” I say with a smirk.
She laughs and we’re now so close that our arms, legs, and torsos are glued together—one entity, one mind, and one heart. Perfection and happiness all in one.
“There’s Clem. Her skit is next!”
A fake, cardboard castle is rolled onto the stage to serve as the backdrop for the medieval skit. A boy who looks frightened to death, probably by Clem, walks into the spotlight dressed like King Henry, followed by Clem herself and a number of extras. She looks radiant and confident, like the queen she’s supposed to represent.
As soon as she spots Josephine and me, Clem waves, much to everyone’s delight and amusement.
“Welcome, everyone, to my kingdom,” Clem begins, her voice shaking only slightly. “I am Anne Boleyn, and this is the story of my life, or at least, the parts that are appropriate for a school play.”
The crowd erupts into laughter and the skit is a huge success—partly because Clem has natural charisma, partly because the boy playing Henry seems frightened that any moment now the makeshift castle will collapse, and partly because it’s so badly written, it’s hilarious.
During the climax, when Clem pretends to have her head chopped off as Anne Boleyn, she climbs a set of fake stairs and proudly declares:
“One small step for mankind, one huge step for England!”
As her stage partner watches, she pokes out her tongue and pretends to pass on the fake stairs in the most dramatic way known to mankind.
The audience erupts in a cheer and both Josephine and I give her a standing ovation.
She waves at us again as she takes a bow and disappears into the wings.
“Wow. That was … dramatic.” I chuckle.
“That’s theater for you.”
“No, that’s Clem for you,” I reply, as we both laugh.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Josephine
Tonight, with Jacob, is more than I could have hoped for. It almost feels like we’re a couple, sitting and cheering on our beloved daughter at her school play.
Except … we’re not.
And it’s my fault. Well, it’s technically the school’s fault, but I’m the one who refuses to break the school rules for love.
Seeing Jacob at that restaurant sparked a fire in me that I haven’t been able to put out. Which is why I’ve been spending every waking minute trying to come up with a solution to this problem.
My friends seem to think I should either sneak around or simply quit and “take a chance on love.”
What they don’t seem to understand is that I have bills to pay. I drained every last penny of my savings picking up the pieces after my breakup with Tom. And I refuse to start my life completely over, again.
I mean sure, if I quit, I might finally have time to finish the book I’ve been writing in secret. Except, there’s a reason the manuscript has been collecting dust in my desk drawer for two years … it’s not that easy to write a book. And I most certainly wouldn’t have it finished and published in time to make next month’s rent.
And let’s say I did sneak around with Jacob and then got caught—I’ll surely be fired on the spot. Which would further prove to my parents that I’m an utter failure.
But sitting here with Jacob, my mind is filled with possibilities—with what-ifs and maybes. Maybe we could find a way to make this work.
I honestly thought my idea to transfer schools was the perfect solution … until Stephanie informed me that Ms. Abadie is the one who handles the transfers—and considering Ms. Abadie seems to loathe my very existence, I don’t think she’ll make it easy on me.