You Had Me at Hola(56)

“That obvious?”

She shook her head at him, sending her braids sliding over her shoulders. “I have a sense for when my actors are about to make a run for it. Also, you’re getting drunk in a corner, staring longingly at the windows. Yes, it’s obvious.”

He set the drink aside, because she was right, and mumbled, “I don’t like big crowds.”

“They’ll be on stage soon,” she promised. “Stick it out a little longer. We’ll clap, take some pictures, and then all of us can go home and start our weekends.”

He nodded and accepted the carton of water she handed him. It was fine. He’d done this before, and he’d have to do it again. He was okay.

But that didn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder or feeling better when his back was to the wall.

The best moment of the night was when Jasmine, Lily, and Nino were on stage. They were interviewed as a group by a Mexican American poet, who asked great questions about the ways personal identity and cultural history played into creative work.

Ashton nearly burst with pride every time Jasmine spoke. She captivated the audience in a way that had nothing to do with being an actor and everything to do with being her. Her smile, her humor, and her ability to share vulnerably had the room hanging on her every word.

Lily and Nino also shared moving stories about their own paths to becoming actors, about the struggles and triumphs, and Ashton felt honored to be working on Carmen with them too.

He clapped loudly at the end of their segment, but was interrupted by someone asking for a photo.

“Stop scowling,” Tanya murmured when the person walked away. “Can’t you at least act like you’re enjoying yourself? You might as well get used to it. You have a press tour coming up. ScreenFlix wants to send you and Jasmine everywhere to drum up interest in the show.”

Ashton attempted to relax his facial muscles. “Double-check my contract. I think you’ll see there are limitations to the amount of press work I’m required to do.”

Tanya’s amused grin was as sharp as a blade. “We’ll see about that.”

Ominous. But Ashton didn’t have a chance to dwell on it, since Jasmine, Nino, and Lily were leaving the stage and coming over to join them.

Jasmine took one look at his face and feigned a yawn. Ashton knew it was fake, because when she yawned for real, it was nowhere near as dainty.

“I’m super tired,” she told the others. “I think I’ll go back to the hotel.”

Ashton narrowed his eyes and gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. He knew what she was doing, and he wouldn’t let her leave early on his account.

Even though all he wanted to do was leave. And the thought of cuddling with her before heading back to his own room held a lot of appeal.

Still, this was her moment. She was being recognized for her contribution to Latinx representation in media. There was no reason for her to—

“I’ll go too,” Lily said. “My feet are killing me. Remind me to throw these shoes in la basura.”

Well, that changed things.

Ashton pulled out his phone. “I’ll get us a car.”

Tanya shook her head. “Pictures first. Then you can all leave.”

As she herded them over to the Latinx in the Arts photo backdrop, Jasmine sidled up next to Ashton and whispered, “I tried.”

“I know. You didn’t have to. But thank you.”

Jasmine gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ll leave soon, okay?”

It was almost another hour before Tanya released them, and by the time Ashton climbed into a car with Jasmine and Lily, he was practically vibrating with nerves. Jasmine shot him worried looks on the ride back to the Hutton Court, but Lily—who’d taken her heels off immediately upon getting in the taxi—kept up the conversation well enough that he didn’t need to contribute much.

In the elevator, they all pressed the buttons for their floors. Lily—still barefoot—got off first, and when the elevator stopped on Jasmine’s floor, Ashton got off with her. Once they were in her suite with the door firmly shut behind them, she caught him in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she said into his chest. “You hated it. I knew you would hate it.”

He wrapped his arms around her like he’d wanted to do all night, and breathed in the soothing citrus scent of her hair. “It’s not your fault, querida. I’m an adult, and I agreed to go.”

“I know, but—”

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply. “It means more to me than I can tell you that you tried to give me an out, twice. And while it’s true that I don’t enjoy events like that—”

“No kidding.”

He smiled, and continued. “I was happy to be there to support you and the others.”

“If you say so.” She took his hand and led him to the sofa, where they sat and got comfortable—Jasmine kicking off her own high heels and Ashton shrugging out of his suit jacket.

“Do you want wine?” she asked. “I have a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge.”

He shook his head. “I drank more than enough at the open bar.”

She put a hand on his knee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He covered her hand with his and looked down at the splay of their fingers. The truth was, he never wanted to talk about it, and he’d decided that if he didn’t talk about it, it couldn’t affect him. If no one else, aside from his family, knew what had happened, it couldn’t haunt him.