With her next sentence, Sandra successfully steered the conversation back to Clara Grant’s acting.
"This morning, I don’t know what was up with Clara Grant. She kept getting NGs on a simple scene, one after another. That’s not up to her usual standard. For the past month, everyone knows she always gets her scenes in one take."
"Well, it’s understandable, isn’t it? She’s a newcor, and it’s her first ti filming. Even if it was just a simple peck, it still counts as a kissing scene. It’s only natural for a young girl like her to be shy," soone else said sympathetically.
"What are you talking about? Good acting? I highly doubt it." Sandra scoffed. "Just think about it. What kind of scenes does she normally nail in one take? Almost all of them are just her striking seductive poses and being a flirt.
The reason she can act so convincingly and nail it in one take isn’t that she’s a good actress. It’s probably just because that’s her true nature—she’s just being herself."
"Really? I can’t say I ever saw her as that kind of person."
"Well, you can’t judge a book by its cover. As the saying goes, you may know a person’s face, but you don’t know their heart. How are we supposed to know what she’s really like? But now that Sandra’s broken it down like that, it actually makes sense."
A few of the people who were already close to Sandra imdiately chid in to agree.
anwhile, Faye Jennings just listened to their gossip quietly. With a playfully chiding smile, she simply said, "You shouldn’t talk about people like that," and then offered no further comnt.
...
Clara Grant had only closed her eyes to hide her embarrassnt, but she ended up falling asleep and stayed that way for the whole ride.
When she woke up, she felt incredibly comfortable. Without opening her eyes, she stretched contentedly, then rolled over, wanting to laze about in bed for a while longer.
But the next second, she felt that sothing wasn’t right.
She opened her eyes, and a broad, masculine chest filled her vision. Her own eyes, wide with a mixture of confusion and shock, traveled upward from his chest until they landed on Seth Quinn’s handso face.
"Ah!" With a little gasp, Clara Grant shot upright. In her panic, she didn’t forget to look down and check her clothes.
’Phew, thank goodness. My clothes are all on!’
"What’s all the noise?" Seth Quinn’s brow furrowed slightly. Though his eyes were still closed, he reached out a long arm and pulled her right back into his embrace.
"Ah!" Caught off guard, Clara Grant let out another startled cry as she fell back into his arms.
He was shirtless, and her cheek was pressed against his bare chest. The direct, skin-to-skin contact made Clara Grant’s face instantly flush with heat.
"Seth Quinn, what—what are you doing? Let go!" Clara Grant struggled for a few monts to no avail. Finally, she managed to tilt her head back to look up at him, her face flushed as she snapped irritably.
Seth Quinn opened his eyes. He looked down at her, a half-smile playing on his lips, and said in a lazy drawl, "You slept on my lap the entire way here, and you’ve been sleeping on top of for hours since we got ho. Isn’t it a little late to start being shy now?"
"Who—who slept on your lap the whole way? I did not," Clara Grant denied with a pout. She clearly rembered falling asleep against the seatback.
"Is that so?" The smile at the corners of Seth Quinn’s mouth deepened, full of mirth. "Then whose drool was it all over my pants?"
Clara Grant instinctively tried to wipe her mouth. Her reaction made Seth Quinn chuckle, and only then did she realize what she was doing. Her face instantly flushed an even deeper shade of red.
As if deliberately trying to provoke her, Seth Quinn continued, "If I’d known soone wasn’t going to admit it, I would’ve had Chase Childs take a picture for proof."
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