You Had Me at Hola(88)

It was time to uphold his end of the bargain.

Channeling the confident gallantry of el matador, Ashton turned to Esperanza. “May I have this dance?” he asked in Spanish.

Esperanza seemed to have recovered from the shock of seeing him. She drew herself up, grabbed a fistful of her full skirt, and struck a pose. “Can you salsa?”

Ignacio snorted. “Of course he can salsa.”

Ashton strode forward and caught the older woman up in a fierce, fast dance. She was good—really good—and soon everyone around them was dancing and cheering. Cameras and phones were out, recording them, but for once, Ashton didn’t care. The happiness in Esperanza’s eyes was enough to put him at ease. When was the last time he’d felt that?

Before Yadiel was born, maybe. Since then, he’d been keeping a secret, constantly worried someone would uncover it or that something terrible could happen to the people he loved and that he wouldn’t be there to protect them. While he was still pissed over the invasion of his privacy, he had to admit he felt lighter than he had in a long time. He’d kept himself isolated, except from his own family, which was small. But Jasmine’s . . . reminded him of home. Of big parties with his mother’s relatives before they’d all eventually moved to the States. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the feeling of community.

He desperately wanted Yadiel to have this.

When the dance ended, Esperanza beamed at him. Everyone around them broke into applause and raucous cheers.

Jasmine’s abuelo, Willie Rodriguez, stepped in to shake Ashton’s hand and thank him for coming. Others streamed onto the dance floor to tell him which of his characters they loved or hated. He smiled and chatted easily in a mix of Spanish and English, but his eyes searched the room until he spotted Yadiel running around with some of the other kids and his father and grandparents sitting at a table with Ava. They had full plates of food in front of them.

At the edge of the dance floor, Jasmine waited with two people who could only be her parents. Her mother’s skin was a smooth golden brown like Jasmine’s, and they had the same sparkling eyes, but Jasmine’s smile was all her father’s, a handsome older man of medium height.

When Ashton finally made it over to her, she began the introductions.

“Ashton, this is my mother, Lisa, and my father, Julio.”

“I’ve heard so much about you both,” Ashton said, and bit back a laugh at Jasmine’s alarmed expression.

They both hugged him and told him to feel welcome. Remembering how Jasmine spoke about her family, Ashton took the opportunity to talk her up to them, as he’d once planned.

“I’m sure you already know how talented and hardworking your daughter is,” he said, walking off the dance floor with them.

Lisa sent an indulgent smile her daughter’s way. “She’s always gone after what she wants.”

“Being an actor’s not an easy life,” Julio added, and Ashton resisted the urge to say, Yeah, no shit. “But it makes her happy, so what can we do?”

Behind them, Jasmine rolled her eyes, but her lips curved in a smile.

Michelle came up and elbowed Ashton in the side. “Didn’t think you were gonna make it, Golden Lion.”

Ashton spoke in a hushed voice while Jasmine was busy with her parents. “Thanks for sending the invitation.”

Michelle winked. “Don’t fuck it up.”

As she wandered away, Ashton tried to subtly shift Jasmine aside.

“We should talk,” he said.

Her eyes were big and serious, but she nodded. “Not here. Let’s make the rounds, introduce you to everyone, and then we’ll sneak away.”

And so Ashton began the greeting ritual of every Puerto Rican family event—walk around and say hello to everyone. Hug, kiss, handshake, fist bump—and in many cases, a photo.

Normally this was the kind of thing he hated. But despite his fame—in this particular crowd, especially—everyone treated him like family. They complimented his salsa moves, teased him good-naturedly about his telenovela roles, and asked him questions about himself and his family. And for the first time, he was able to answer those questions truthfully.

For his part, Ashton made a point to tell everyone how great of an actress Jasmine was, and how much he couldn’t wait for them to watch the show—especially when he got to her brother and sister.

“Yeah, Jasmine got all the creative genes,” her sister, Jillian, said wryly. “No one at my office can believe my sister’s an actress, since I’m so boring.”

Ashton shot a glance at Jasmine, who appeared to have swallowed her tongue.

As they finally finished their circuit of the room, Jasmine nudged him with her elbow. “This isn’t a press junket, you know,” she said out of the side of her mouth.

“Are you kidding?” Ashton grinned. “This is tapping directly into the Boricua grapevine. If we get them watching, we’ll really be a hit.”

She took a deep breath. “Speaking of . . .”

“Yes.” Time to talk. Nerves simmered, but like Abuelita Bibi, he had a good feeling.

She tilted her head toward the doors that led outside. “Let’s do this.”

Ashton held the door for her, then followed her out to the walkway that overlooked the water.

It was now or never. He’d give her his heart, and then they would see where they stood.