she could see right through him. “I don’t think that’s it,” she said, smooth as silk. “I think you already think you’re the best, and you want everyone else to know it too.”
His response came out low and flirtatious. “So, you’ve figured me out, Jasmine Lin.”
Her eyes held his, and he could’ve sworn they were full of flames.
“Rodriguez,” she whispered.
“¿Qué?”
She licked her lips. “Jasmine Lin Rodriguez. That’s my full name.”
Before he could talk himself out of it, he took a tremendous chance. “Ángel Luis.”
At her quizzical look, he explained. “My name. It’s not Ashton. It’s Ángel Luis.”
She repeated it, nailing the accent. The sound of his name—his real name—on her lips shot heat through him.
Then she said, “I did wonder where your parents had gotten a name like Ashton from.”
And he laughed, breaking the tension. Tension he had no business encouraging. “They didn’t,” he admitted.
“Part of that big Hollywood goal?”
“Precisely.”
She held up the script. “We’d better work on getting you there, then.”
“Getting us there.” He rolled to the end of the counter and picked up his own script. “Where should we begin?”
“You can begin by telling me why you were so preoccupied during the last shoot,” she said, nailing him with a direct look. “I told you my reason.”
He busied himself flipping through the pages and told a half-truth. “My grandfather went to the ER today. I was waiting for news.”
Her face crumpled in concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is everything okay? Is that why you went to Puerto Rico last weekend?”
Carajo, he’d forgotten he’d told her that when he’d run into her in the elevator. “Yes, that’s why. And he’s fine. Just a cough he let go unchecked for too long. They gave him stronger medicine.”
“You must have been so worried,” she murmured, and to his surprise, her genuine distress hit him right in the chest. He couldn’t reply, so he just nodded.
“My grandparents mean the world to me,” she went on. “They’re getting older and I just . . . anyway, I get it. No wonder you were worried.”
“Does that include your grandmother who adores me?” he asked, flashing a grin.
She groaned and covered her face with the script. “Oh my god, you remember that?”
“Of course. I’m full of myself, as you pointed out. I always remember compliments.”
Laughing, she pretended to swat at him with the script. “Come on, let’s practice our lines before they call us back.”
Chapter 15
CARMEN IN CHARGE
EPISODE 4
Scene: Carmen and Victor have a heart-to-heart.
INT: Backstage tent at an outdoor concert—DAY
Carmen stormed into the tent with Victor close on her heels. As soon as the flap closed, she rounded on him, slapping a hand to his chest and squinting up at his face. She inhaled deeply, then stepped back, crossing her arms.
“I knew it.” She sent him an accusing glare. “You’re drunk.”
“Cálmate, Carmencita—”
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t tell me to calm down, and don’t call me Carmencita.”
“Fine, Carmen. But I’m not drunk. Just hungover.”
“Oh, that’s so much better.” She let out a short, humorless laugh and jammed her hands onto her hips. And completely ignored the thrill she got when he rolled the r in Carmen.
He was doing it again, like he had throughout their marriage. Forcing her into the position of authority, making her act like his mother. She hated when he did this, and his immaturity had ultimately led to the downfall of their marriage.
Or at least, this was the context they’d determined in rehearsal with Vera and Marquita.
“I’m okay to finish the set,” Victor said, but he was sweating, and his eyes were glassy.
Carmen didn’t even bother to respond to that. “I should’ve known this would happen the second those idiotas showed up. Your little entourage has always been a bad influence on you. This is the whole reason why you’re living in my parents’ house, Victor. The whole reason why we’re doing all of this.” Her voice turned pleading. “Why are you letting them ruin your progress?”
At that, Victor slumped into a folding chair and dropped his head into his hands. After a long beat, he blew out a breath and lifted his head. His expression was bleak. “You’re right.”
Carmen stood very still. She didn’t know how to handle a Victor who expressed emotions readily, much less one who agreed with her. It wasn’t in Victor’s nature, especially not where his friends were involved. When he lowered his face again, though, she stepped forward, her feet moving of their own volition.
“Oye.” She took his face in her hands and gently raised his