You Had Me at Hola - Alexis Daria Page 0,95

next step on his road to that Best Actor nom. He wasn’t getting any younger here. He was certainly too old to have made a stupid mistake like having a fling with his costar and sabotaging his career. Yet here they were.

In the back of his mind, he felt bad thinking about it as a fling, and he felt bad about being angry at her. It took two to tango, and he’d been right there with her, diving headlong into a love neither could afford.

But anxiety and a sense of betrayal sparked his anger and came flowing out of his mouth. “I cannot believe you are sabotaging me this way.”

Her eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“You know what a good thing we have going here? ScreenFlix is the number one streaming service in the world. We might never get the chance to work on a Latinx-driven mainstream production like this again.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to glance at the screen. His father was calling.

But Jasmine wasn’t taking his accusation quietly.

“Don’t act like you care about this show,” she scoffed. “It was like pulling teeth to get you to connect with the rest of the cast. And look, you’re not even paying attention now. My cousins were right. You are full of yourself.”

With an angry move, he sent the call to voice mail and tossed his phone across the room, onto the sofa cushions.

“There,” he bit off. “Happy now?”

“Do I look like I’m happy?” she snapped, brow furrowed in exasperation.

He didn’t answer that. Instead, he tried to reason with her. “We’re both contracted for three seasons.”

She shrugged and looked away. “So?”

“Jasmine, this show is a great opportunity—for both of us. Don’t make a—”

“A what?” She fisted her hands on her hips and stared him down.

“A . . .” What was he going to say? Something with “emotional,” but he realized that was a bad idea. “Don’t make a decision from . . . from your feelings . . .”

“Are you calling me emotional?” She narrowed her eyes at him and he knew he was in trouble.

“No. You—” Use “I” statements, idiot. That’s what Vera always reminded them during their rehearsals, although she’d never called him an idiot. “I mean, I feel that this is a rash decision. A mistake.”

Jasmine let out a strangled laugh. “Of course you do. Because this is all about you. You never once considered me, or my feelings, or thought that I would want to know—” She snapped her mouth shut.

“Is this because of Yadiel?”

She shot him an impatient glance. “No, it’s because you didn’t tell me about Yadiel. Please tell me you understand the difference.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I haven’t told anyone about him.”

“Well, I’m not just anyone.” Her voice rose in anger. “Don’t treat me like I’m some random person on the street trying to get a picture with the famous Ashton Suarez.”

The way she said his name, the sarcastic air quotes were clearly implied.

“Jasmine, I gave you more than I’ve given anyone else in . . . in a long time.” Ever. “And with the way the press is always on your ass, can you blame me for not wanting to reveal everything?”

She sucked in a breath, and her eyebrows dipped in pain. It was a low blow, and he felt terrible, especially since he knew she didn’t enjoy all the attention the media heaped on her.

Jasmine let out a shaky breath, and in a severe voice, said, “Ashton. You can’t have it both ways.”

His brow creased. “What do you mean? I’ve been in this business a long time, and I managed to keep Yadiel hidden until now.”

She shut her eyes against his words, and he knew he’d hurt her again. He couldn’t seem to stop. The stress of the last couple weeks had worn him raw.

“You know, I sometimes think, ‘I never asked for it,’” she said in a quiet voice. “But the truth is, the second I signed a contract to be on television, I made a deal with the public. They would get part of me in exchange for knowing my face and connecting with the characters I play. And so did you. You can’t have it both ways, Ashton. You can’t be a public figure and have a completely private life. You think the actors who make it to the Oscars have privacy? Don’t be naive.”

He felt like the walls were closing in on him. “I was doing pretty well at it until

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