You Had Me at Hola(85)

Between the three of them, they dragged Jasmine’s suitcases into the venue and set to work.

“How many magenta flowers again?” Michelle asked.

“Two,” Ava replied between her teeth. “For the fifth time, it’s two ginger alpinias, one yellow rose.”

“Got it.” Michelle yanked all the delicate tropical flowers out of her vase and started over. “So he didn’t trust you with his kid. So what? You trust people too easily.”

Jasmine huffed as she lined the inside of a rectangular glass vase with large leaves. They looked crooked, so she pulled them out and did it again. “I know I do.”

“My point is, you can’t measure another person’s willingness to trust against your own. For example, you’d never have a secret baby because you can’t keep a secret. I’m kind of impressed he managed it for—how old is the kid?”

“Eight,” Jasmine replied, finally satisfied with the leaves. “Yadiel is eight.”

Wait. There was something about numbers . . .

Jasmine’s hands stilled on the leaves as her stellar memory supplied a missing piece of the puzzle. After the Latinx in the Arts Summit, Ashton had told her about the attempted home invasion. What had he said exactly?

Around seven years ago, someone tried to break into my house.

Seven years. According to Buzz Weekly, Yadiel was eight. That meant . . .

Oh, shit. Yadiel had already been born when it happened. He would have been just a baby, but god, no wonder Ashton was so overprotective about his son’s safety.

“That is impressive,” Ava agreed, referring to how long Ashton had kept Yadiel a secret. “And you’re both right. These centerpieces are too complicated.”

Michelle held up a finger threateningly. “Oh no you don’t. You designed them and insisted they would be ‘easy’ to assemble at the venue. We had our doubts, but now we have committed to these centerpieces and goddamn it, we are making these centerpieces.”

Ava sighed and kept sorting palm leaves.

Jasmine’s mind continued to turn over this new realization. Ashton had left out mention of Yadiel when he’d told her about the break-in. But still, he’d shared it with her, one of his biggest secrets. That couldn’t have been easy for him.

Michelle was right. Jasmine did trust easily, and look where it had gotten her. She could see now it was a direct response to feeling ignored and misunderstood by her parents and siblings. It was why she’d readily given her heart to every semi-attractive man who’d even shown her an ounce of attention. She sought her parents’ love by securing romantic relationships, because in her family, that was what made you a success.

But that wasn’t healthy. And trust wasn’t meant to be given in one lump sum. It was earned, little by little. And hadn’t Ashton been doing that? Little by little, he’d let her in. Who was she to say he wouldn’t have told her about Yadiel eventually? Kitty Sanchez had forced his hand, and Jasmine had made herself the victim.

It occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, packing her bags and leaving a frantic voice mail on her agent’s cell phone was just a tiny bit rash.

Jasmine’s mind wandered back to something else Michelle had said earlier. “You’re right about another thing,” she murmured.

“Of course I am.” Michelle shot her a grin to show she was joking. “What am I right about this time?”

“I do love working on Carmen.” Jasmine set down the shears and tried to put the feeling into words. “Working on a show with so many Latinx cast and crew members? It was an incredible experience. I got so caught up in the drama of Ashton that it didn’t fully sink in while I was there. But when I compare it to working on, well, every other show I’ve worked on . . . god, it was like magic.”

Ava nodded, her eyes full of understanding, and touched Jasmine’s hand. “Keep cutting the leaves,” she said in a mock whisper. “And I’m sorry it wasn’t picked up for a second season.”

“Oh, we still don’t know,” Jasmine said absently as she measured and cut.

“Wait, what?” Michelle stared at her, then at the suitcases in the corner. “You don’t even know if you’re getting a season two but you’re still going back to Glamour Squad? What about your contract?”

Before Jasmine could answer, someone called out, “Hello?”

Ava let out a panicked squeak. “Oh god, one of the tías is early.”

“Worse than that,” Jasmine murmured, spotting a familiar freckled face in the entrance to the ballroom. “It’s my agent.”

“For real?” Michelle dropped the roses and raised a hand, waving Riley over. “Hey, come over here and help us talk some sense into your client.”

Riley Chen rushed into the room, her dark shoulder-length bob mussed and her freckled cheeks flushed. She dragged a rolling suitcase behind her with a laptop bag slung over one shoulder, making her petite frame slightly lopsided.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Riley said. Her eyes widened as she took in Jasmine’s pile of suitcases.

“Did you just come here from California?” Jasmine asked in disbelief.

Riley shot her an exasperated look. “I got on the first flight this morning, which I wouldn’t have had to do if you’d answered your phone.”