“Stop flirting with me, Alba Athena, it’s unprofessional,” I mumbled back, which rewarded me with more promises of my impending demise.

“You guys have such chemistry.” Mona clapped again.

“See?” I angled my head toward the PA while I kept my attention on my costar. “Mona enjoys my wit, and it seems we have great chemistry.”

“So did the atomic bomb.”

I actually chuckled at that one and she preened.

“So,” Mona said, bringing our attention back to her. “You put in long hours in the office. What’s your favorite music to work to, to liven things up?” She didn’t say who the question was for, but Alba answered before I could.

“He hates music,” she said smugly.

“That’s not true.”

“Okay fine, he hates fun music.”

“Pssh.” As far as comebacks went, I could’ve done better. But she seemed to be on a roll and I wanted to hear.

She sent me a wiseass smile, then returned her attention to the camera. “He has the music taste of a ninety-year-old abuelito.” Mona and Keli both chuckled at the look of disgust on Alba’s face. “Nothing but old boleros on that geriatric shuffle of his.”

That hurt. What the hell?

“Those are classics. What did Beny Moré ever do to you, Alba Penelope?” I protested then saw the smart-ass smile on her face. She was fucking with me.

Mona frowned and looked down at her clipboard. “I thought your middle name was Serena.”

“It is!” she shot back, arms splayed in front on her in a “see the bullshit I deal with” gesture. “He thinks it’s cute to call me the wrong name.” She mouthed “cabrón” and then turned to Mona, who was looking at us like she’d hit the reality TV jackpot.

“You guys are really cute together.” I know I didn’t imagine the gagging sound coming from next to me, but Mona was eager to bring out more of our bickering and turned to Alba.

“And what about you, Alba? Who is constantly playing in your AirPods?”