“Why keep working in TV if you hate it so much?” she asked, a slight frown on her face.
The question made him fidget, and he wasn’t sure why. “I don’t hate TV, but I’m tired. Telenovelas were supposed to be a stepping stone to the next level. I just didn’t expect to get stuck there for so long. My hope is thatCarmenwill be the project that bridges the gap.”
Jasmine stared at him over the antipasto platter with a dazzling, intense gaze. “I think you secretly love it,” she said in a low voice. “Eliciting an emotional reaction from the audience? It’s like the best drug there is. Soaps and telenovelas—we’re experts at it. Love. Hate.Passion. You live for the viewer reactions. Youcravethem.”
Lulled into a spell by her words and the silky tone of her voice, he lowered his own as well. They were getting into dangerousground, and he didn’t care. “And what reaction do I elicit from you?”
She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Nada.”
Heat bloomed in his belly and spread. “Ay, linda. Estás mintiendo.”
You’re lying.
Jasmine opened her mouth to reply—and was interrupted by a brusque knock on the door. A chorus of voices called out, “Jaaaaaasmine, we’re heeeeere!”
His eyes shot to hers. He yearned to know what she would’ve said, but the impulse was tempered by a growing sense of horror and betrayal.
She’d told someone.
Was it the press? Their coworkers?
Jasmine sucked in a breath. “It’s my cousins.”
Ay, Dios. Even worse.
Chapter 19
Jasmine opened the door to find Michelle and Ava standing in the hallway. Michelle held up a tote bag that clanked. “We come bearing wine.”
“And pizza!” Ava bustled past Jasmine into the kitchen, carrying a large cardboard box that brought heavenly smells into the suite.
Michelle glanced over at Ashton like she was just noticing him. “Oh, do you have company?”
She knew damn well Ashton was there, since Jasmine had texted them on the way home admitting she’d invited him over. They’d reminded her about her Leading Lady Plan and then gone silent. Jasmine should’ve guessed they were up to something, but she’d been preoccupied with ordering food and freshening up before Ashton arrived.
“What are you doing here?” Jasmine whispered while Ava introduced herself to Ashton.
Michelle gave her a pointed look. “Saving you from yourself.” Then she strolled over to Ashton and said, “Well, well, if it isn’t el león dorado.”
Jasmine completed the introductions, everyone kissed hello on the cheek, and soon they were all seated at the round dining table, digging into the pizza.
“Ooh, toppings!” Michelle grabbed olives and roasted red peppers from the antipasto plate and piled them onto her pizza slice. “So what were you two up to?”
Ashton passed around napkins. “Rehearsing lines.”
This was a slight exaggeration, considering they had yet to open their scripts, but it was better than admitting they’d been flirting over olives and telenovelas.
“Excellent,” Michelle said. “We’ll help you. Jasmine’s the pro, but Ava and I also took drama classes in school.”
“What do you do now?” Ashton asked politely.
“Freelance graphic designer.”
Michelle did so much more than that, but Jasmine didn’t contradict. Starting the freelance business had been Michelle’s way of recovering from her high-level—and extremely stressful—corporate job.
“And you?” Ashton asked, turning to Ava.
“Middle school teacher.” Ava yanked the cork out of the wine bottle. “But I’m on summer break now.”
