bar!”
Jasmine caught Ashton’s eye. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” she said quietly. “I know it’s not really your thing.”
It wasn’t his thing at all, but supporting Jasmine had quickly become his thing. And in his view, you showed support by showing up, like his parents had done all those years for him.
“Sure, I’ll go,” he said.
“Really?” Jasmine’s eyes went round.
“Awesome.” Nino grinned. “I’m bringing my mom, and she can’t wait to meet you. She loved El duque de amor.”
A sinking feeling dragged at Ashton’s stomach, like a premonition, but it was just anxiety. Then he saw Jasmine’s grateful smile, and knew he could endure the discomfort for her happiness.
The summit was held at an event space near Hudson Yards. After they were done shooting for the day, they all went back to the Hutton Court to change, and Ashton shared a taxi cross-town with Jasmine.
“I’m surprised you’re not bringing anyone from your family,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers on the seat between them and relishing in the private moment where he could touch her without worrying.
She shrugged and gazed out the window at the city passing by. “It was late notice. Ava’s babysitting and Michelle is working on a big design project.”
“What about your parents, or your brother or sister?”
She turned back to him with an incredulous laugh. “Are you kidding me? It would just stress me out to have any of them there.”
He didn’t say anything, but he hoped he got to meet her parents someday, so he could tell them how amazing their daughter was. They were missing out on knowing her.
“I appreciate that you’re coming with me, especially since you don’t like big events.” She squeezed his hand. “I would have asked, you know. But I didn’t want to put you on the spot.”
Ashton brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “You still could have asked.”
The look in her eyes was so hopeful, it made his chest ache. “Now I know.”
As the car pulled up near the event space, Ashton released her hand. They’d agreed to keep this—whatever it was—secret. Ashton didn’t know how long they could keep it up, but he couldn’t deny that he was feeling lighter and happier than he had in a long time. He entered the summit at Jasmine’s side, riding a wave of optimism.
It took less than an hour to bring him back down to reality.
He hated events like this.
The crush of people was packed into an open space, hemmed in by a stage at one end and a bar at the other. The format was loose—more party than conference—and Ashton felt completely exposed and far too easily recognized. Everywhere he turned, someone saw his face and gasped, and then he had to make nice and pose for pictures until he could politely get away. Then someone else recognized him, and he had to do the whole thing all over.
He drank three gin and tonics during the first hour in an attempt to calm his nerves, but he was still ready to climb out a window. The party was on the ground floor, so it would probably work. Then he could hail a taxi, go back to the hotel, and—
Someone grabbed his elbow and he jumped, nearly spilling his fourth G&T. It was Tanya Onai, the ScreenFlix publicist assigned to Carmen. She was a pretty young woman, tall with dark brown skin and long box braids.
She was also the one with the power to make him do interviews, so he’d studiously avoided her thus far. But now she had him cornered.
He sipped his drink to clear his throat, then muttered a hello.
Tanya released his arm and gave him a bland smile. “You look like you’re planning an escape.”
“That obvious?”
She shook her head at him, sending her braids sliding over her shoulders. “I have a sense for when my actors are about to make a run for it. Also, you’re getting drunk in a corner, staring longingly at the windows. Yes, it’s obvious.”
He set the drink aside, because she was right, and mumbled, “I don’t like big crowds.”
“They’ll be on stage soon,” she promised. “Stick it out a little longer. We’ll clap, take some pictures, and then all of us can go home and start our weekends.”
He nodded and accepted the carton of water she handed him. It was fine. He’d done this before, and he’d have to do it again. He was okay.
But that didn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder