You Had Me at Hola Page 9

Ashton turned his head to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. She was chatting with one of the ScreenFlix VPs, but standing with them was someone else—someone wearing a visitor’s badge and recording their conversation with a phone.

A reporter.

Ashton did a sharp about-face and made a prompt exit. Peter called his name, and Ashton waved, but kept going. Farther down the hallway he encountered Skye, and asked them to show him back to the elevators.

Once the doors shut behind him and he was on his way down, Ashton was finally able to take a deep breath.

He hated talking to the press. While the Miami-based entertainment reporters were used to his standoffishness and had reached the point of joking about it good-naturedly, he was in New York now. He had no idea what to expect from the media here. And the last thing he needed was for a reporter to record him apologizing to Jasmine. It would spark curiosity, and he couldn’t afford rumors or invasive questions. His son’s safety was too important.

Later. He’d talk to Jasmine later.

THE AWKWARD TABLE read set the tone for Jasmine’s first week on Carmen.

Not that she had trouble adjusting. If anything, the production pace was leisurely compared to what she was used to from working on soaps, where they filmed over one hundred pages per day and were expected to nail the shot on the first take. Having more than a week to shoot an episode felt positively decadent.

She assumed it must be the same for Ashton, coming from telenovelas, but she couldn’t know for sure because the man was never around to ask.

After the table read, he’d taken one look at her and left without even saying goodbye. And sure, he showed up when it was time to rehearse, and he was of course there while they filmed, but as soon as the scene wrapped, Ashton disappeared again. Hell, he would barely even look at her unless the script called for it.

Jasmine tried not to take it personally, but taking things personally was one of her greatest skills. Fortunately, the first episodes called for some awkwardness between them.

Carmen Serrano, Jasmine’s character, worked at a public relations firm owned by her family in New York City. She was a tough, take-no-shit kind of woman. A real Leading Lady type. Jasmine could stand to take a few lessons from her.

The show started with Carmen getting the rug pulled out from under her—not only was the family business in trouble, but their latest client, the one who could get them back on top? None other than her ex-husband, Victor Vega, an international pop star.

Jasmine could sympathize with Carmen. She had a problem with exes too.

Most of the scenes Jasmine had already filmed involved the actors who played Carmen’s family members. They were all lovely people, and Peter Calabasas, who played her on-screen dad, Ernesto Serrano, reminded Jasmine of her grandfather, Willie Rodriguez. She felt so at ease with him and Miriam Perez, who played Carmen’s mom Dahlia, she took them up on their offer to run through the Spanish dialogue together, and Jasmine aced the scenes when they filmed them.

So far, she hadn’t had too much interaction with Ashton on set, but that would be changing soon. Today, they were filming Carmen and Victor’s reunion scene. After spending the morning drinking way too much coffee in hair and makeup, Jasmine was ready to get it over with.

Ashton showed up on set looking sleek and sexy. For Victor, they’d given him a fresh shave and slicked his dark curls away from his face. Jasmine wished they’d left something to distract from his extreme handsomeness . . . like a mask, or a paper bag.

Wardrobe wasn’t helping either. They’d outfitted Ashton in tight black chinos and a gray V-neck T-shirt with a black leather jacket to complete the musician look. His cologne was a delicious combo of sweet and spicy, somehow sexy and comforting at the same time.

Jasmine turned away and gulped water from a stainless steel bottle. She had to pull herself together.

A member of the makeup team approached to blot away any shininess from her face. With her eyes closed and the scent of powder soothing her nerves, Jasmine gave herself a mental pep talk.

Come on, jefa, you can do this. Let Carmen take over and nail your lines. It’s just acting. You’ve done this a million times.

Jasmine took three deep, slow breaths. She tapped into the part of her that connected with the character, the part of her who owned her power and knew her worth. It was a small part, but it was there, deep inside. She was a Leading Lady, damn it. A Leading Lady who had her shit together.

When she opened her eyes, she thanked the makeup artist then sashayed over to Lily Benitez, who played her on-screen sister, Helen. Lily just happened to be standing within earshot of Ashton, so Jasmine called on Carmen’s bravado and draped it around her like her great-grandmother’s wedding mantilla.

“Ready to get your ass beat at dominoes?” Jasmine said, referring to the game they had going in Miriam’s dressing room.

Lily, who was fiercely competitive, snorted in disdain. “You wish!”

As they went back and forth, Jasmine watched Ashton from the corner of her eye. He was listening—he had to be, there was no way he couldn’t hear them—but he never turned their way.

It was on the tip of Jasmine’s tongue to call out his name. She didn’t know what she’d say, exactly. Do you play dominoes? No, that was a stupid question. He probably did. Why do you smell so good? Um, no. That was totally inappropriate, even though it was true. Hey, pay attention to me! That one was pure middle-child id, and Jasmine didn’t want to think too deeply about where the impulse came from.

Instead, she said nothing to him at all. Just kept chatting with Lily. A minute later, the first assistant director, Ofelia Gomez, called them all to their places, and there was nothing else to do but begin.

Chapter 5


CARMEN IN CHARGE


EPISODE 1

Scene: Carmen and Victor reunite for the first time.

INT: Carmen’s office—DAY

“Action!”

Carmen bustled into her office—a chic workspace decorated in white with gold accents—and picked up a tablet from her desk. Her father followed her in, albeit more slowly.

“So who’s this big new client we’ve signed?” She tapped the tablet screen. “I haven’t gotten any paperwork yet.”

Her father ducked his head, like he was afraid to meet her gaze. “He’s a singer. And this one might be a little . . . difficult.”

Carmen looked up from her desk and flashed him a fierce grin. “Papi, there’s nobody in this business better than I am. Come on, what’s the catch?”

With a resigned grimace, Ernesto leaned out the glass door of the office and called, “Déjalo pasar.”

The man who strolled into the office made Carmen’s confident smile drop. A myriad of emotions raced through her, all visible on her face. Shock, hurt, and then—anger.

But he . . . he was all smooth and secure, as if he had every right to be here. His lips curved in a sexy smile and he gave a little nod. “Hola, Carmen.”

His voice was silken and deep, wrapping around her, urging her to loosen up. Instead, Carmen steeled her spine. With tight, controlled movements, she set the tablet down, lest she throw it at him, and pressed her hands to the cool surface, letting it ground her. Her lips compressed into a thin line as she glared from the newcomer to her father.

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