You Had Me at Hola(55)

They saw each other at work, of course, but it was different. They were careful not to do anything to arouse suspicion—no heated looks, no lingering glances—although Ofelia had remarked on their improved performances a few times, and Ashton worried the first AD was starting to suspect something was up.

However, they were most careful around Vera, who had an uncanny knack for tuning into their emotional states. Pretending that he wasn’t falling locamente enamorado with Jasmine was the most difficult role he’d ever tried to pull off. Even harder than the time he’d played his own evil clone.

After being on location all week, it was nice to be back at the ScreenFlix Studios lot on Friday, which was gradually feeling more familiar to him. Ashton was in between filming Victor’s daytime talk show performances when he ran into Jasmine chatting with Nino and Lily at craft services.

Nino waved him over. “Hey, Ash. You coming to the summit tonight?”

Ashton shot Jasmine a puzzled look. “What summit?”

“The Latinx in the Arts Summit,” she told him. “It’s a new group, and they’re having their first big event tonight.”

“The three of us are being honored together as part of their ‘30 Under 30’ in the performing arts category,” Lily explained.

“I’m technically already thirty,” Jasmine admitted. “Do you think they’ll drag me off the stage if they find out?”

“It’s okay, vieja,” Lily said with a grin. “If we average all three of our ages, we come out somewhere in our late twenties.”

“Thanks to me,” Nino scoffed. “So, Ash, you want to come with us? We have VIP tickets, which means open bar!”

Jasmine caught Ashton’s eye. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” she said quietly. “I know it’s not really your thing.”

It wasn’t his thing at all, but supporting Jasmine had quickly become his thing. And in his view, you showed support by showing up, like his parents had done all those years for him.

“Sure, I’ll go,” he said.

“Really?” Jasmine’s eyes went round.

“Awesome.” Nino grinned. “I’m bringing my mom, and she can’t wait to meet you. She loved El duque de amor.”

A sinking feeling dragged at Ashton’s stomach, like a premonition, but it was just anxiety. Then he saw Jasmine’s grateful smile, and knew he could endure the discomfort for her happiness.

The summit was held at an event space near Hudson Yards. After they were done shooting for the day, they all went back to the Hutton Court to change, and Ashton shared a taxi cross-town with Jasmine.

“I’m surprised you’re not bringing anyone from your family,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers on the seat between them and relishing in the private moment where he could touch her without worrying.

She shrugged and gazed out the window at the city passing by. “It was late notice. Ava’s babysitting and Michelle is working on a big design project.”

“What about your parents, or your brother or sister?”

She turned back to him with an incredulous laugh. “Are you kidding me? It would just stress me out to have any of them there.”

He didn’t say anything, but he hoped he got to meet her parents someday, so he could tell them how amazing their daughter was. They were missing out on knowing her.

“I appreciate that you’re coming with me, especially since you don’t like big events.” She squeezed his hand. “I would have asked, you know. But I didn’t want to put you on the spot.”

Ashton brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “You still could have asked.”

The look in her eyes was so hopeful, it made his chest ache. “Now I know.”

As the car pulled up near the event space, Ashton released her hand. They’d agreed to keep this—whatever it was—secret. Ashton didn’t know how long they could keep it up, but he couldn’t deny that he was feeling lighter and happier than he had in a long time. He entered the summit at Jasmine’s side, riding a wave of optimism.

It took less than an hour to bring him back down to reality.

He hated events like this.

The crush of people was packed into an open space, hemmed in by a stage at one end and a bar at the other. The format was loose—more party than conference—and Ashton felt completely exposed and far too easily recognized. Everywhere he turned, someone saw his face and gasped, and then he had to make nice and pose for pictures until he could politely get away. Then someone else recognized him, and he had to do the whole thing all over.

He drank three gin and tonics during the first hour in an attempt to calm his nerves, but he was still ready to climb out a window. The party was on the ground floor, so it would probably work. Then he could hail a taxi, go back to the hotel, and—

Someone grabbed his elbow and he jumped, nearly spilling his fourth G&T. It was Tanya Onai, the ScreenFlix publicist assigned to Carmen. She was a pretty young woman, tall with dark brown skin and long box braids.

She was also the one with the power to make him do interviews, so he’d studiously avoided her thus far. But now she had him cornered.

He sipped his drink to clear his throat, then muttered a hello.

Tanya released his arm and gave him a bland smile. “You look like you’re planning an escape.”