mask, or a paper bag.
Wardrobe wasn’t helping either. They’d outfitted Ashton in tight black chinos and a gray V-neck T-shirt with a black leather jacket to complete the musician look. His cologne was a delicious combo of sweet and spicy, somehow sexy and comforting at the same time.
Jasmine turned away and gulped water from a stainless steel bottle. She had to pull herself together.
A member of the makeup team approached to blot away any shininess from her face. With her eyes closed and the scent of powder soothing her nerves, Jasmine gave herself a mental pep talk.
Come on, jefa, you can do this. Let Carmen take over and nail your lines. It’s just acting. You’ve done this a million times.
Jasmine took three deep, slow breaths. She tapped into the part of her that connected with the character, the part of her who owned her power and knew her worth. It was a small part, but it was there, deep inside. She was a Leading Lady, damn it. A Leading Lady who had her shit together.
When she opened her eyes, she thanked the makeup artist then sashayed over to Lily Benitez, who played her on-screen sister, Helen. Lily just happened to be standing within earshot of Ashton, so Jasmine called on Carmen’s bravado and draped it around her like her great-grandmother’s wedding mantilla.
“Ready to get your ass beat at dominoes?” Jasmine said, referring to the game they had going in Miriam’s dressing room.
Lily, who was fiercely competitive, snorted in disdain. “You wish!”
As they went back and forth, Jasmine watched Ashton from the corner of her eye. He was listening—he had to be, there was no way he couldn’t hear them—but he never turned their way.
It was on the tip of Jasmine’s tongue to call out his name. She didn’t know what she’d say, exactly. Do you play dominoes? No, that was a stupid question. He probably did. Why do you smell so good? Um, no. That was totally inappropriate, even though it was true. Hey, pay attention to me! That one was pure middle-child id, and Jasmine didn’t want to think too deeply about where the impulse came from.
Instead, she said nothing to him at all. Just kept chatting with Lily. A minute later, the first assistant director, Ofelia Gomez, called them all to their places, and there was nothing else to do but begin.
Chapter 5
CARMEN IN CHARGE
EPISODE 1
Scene: Carmen and Victor reunite for the first time.
INT: Carmen’s office—DAY
“Action!”
Carmen bustled into her office—a chic workspace decorated in white with gold accents—and picked up a tablet from her desk. Her father followed her in, albeit more slowly.
“So who’s this big new client we’ve signed?” She tapped the tablet screen. “I haven’t gotten any paperwork yet.”
Her father ducked his head, like he was afraid to meet her gaze. “He’s a singer. And this one might be a little . . . difficult.”
Carmen looked up from her desk and flashed him a fierce grin. “Papi, there’s nobody in this business better than I am. Come on, what’s the catch?”
With a resigned grimace, Ernesto leaned out the glass door of the office and called, “Déjalo pasar.”
The man who strolled into the office made Carmen’s confident smile drop. A myriad of emotions raced through her, all visible on her face. Shock, hurt, and then—anger.
But he . . . he was all smooth and secure, as if he had every right to be here. His lips curved in a sexy smile and he gave a little nod. “Hola, Carmen.”
His voice was silken and deep, wrapping around her, urging her to loosen up. Instead, Carmen steeled her spine. With tight, controlled movements, she set the tablet down, lest she throw it at him, and pressed her hands to the cool surface, letting it ground her. Her lips compressed into a thin line as she glared from the newcomer to her father.
“Really?” she said in a harsh tone, breaking the silence but not the tension. “My ex-husband is our new client?”
On a network show, this would have been a prime commercial break, but since this was being filmed for a streaming service, the scene continued.
Ernesto rushed over to Carmen, his tone conciliatory. “Mija, óyeme—”
“No, I will not listen.” Carmen slashed her hand through the air. “The answer is no. I won’t work with him.”
Her father didn’t give up. “Like you said, you’re the best in the business at rehabbing celebrity images. If you can turn Victor’s career around, we’ll have clients knocking down our door. Come on, mija. Do