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Those pesky regrets were creeping closer. The last time he’d had sex with a costar, he’d gotten Yadiel, which was why he had a strict policy against it and hadn’t wanted to have penetrative sex with Jasmine.
But there was something about her that kept drawing him in. Her skill and instinct as a scene partner, her leadership among the cast, her innate sense for when they needed a fun break and bonding opportunity, even the way she laughed at his dad jokes.
Jasmine could have kicked Jillian under the table. But what would be the point? Family first, which meant the expansion of the family, through marriage and childbirth, outweighed every other accomplishment. She’d been nominated for a Daytime Emmy, for god’s sake. But when the news had been announced, her parents had responded with the text message equivalent of “that’s nice, dear.”
“I spent the day with my family and drank my weight in mimosas,” she explained after she’d chewed. “All I want is pizza right now. Real New York City pizza with a soggy thin crust and too much cheese and oil.”
“Must be nice. Mine only care if you’re married and have kids. And yeah, I want those things, but I still have value as a person without them, you know?”
There was no way he could give her what she wanted. What she deserved. She let out a soft sigh, something he’d noticed she did as she was falling asleep. It was utterly adorable.
These aspects of his behavior made complete sense now; he wasn’t a diva—he was guarded, and with good reason. But she couldn’t help but wonder, had he always felt anxiety around crowds, or had it started after his home security had been breached?
“Because you’re an Aries,” Michelle said matter-of-factly. “You love love.”
“Well, yes, but . . . I don’t know if I should.” Jasmine sat up and sent them a pleading look. “I’m fucking up my Leading Lady Plan.” “Is that what this is about?” Ava asked gently. “Jas, you’re not being graded on it.”
“I want to go to New York.” Yadiel said it in English, like he was proving he was ready for the trip, placing emphasis on every other word.
Leading Ladies only end up on magazine covers with good reason. Leading Ladies are whole and happy on their own. Leading Ladies are badass queens making jefa moves.
Leading Ladies do not rebound with their costars.
As if his own family weren’t on their way to New York that very minute, as if they were in charge of their own lives, as if they weren’t surrounded by crew members,
But the world returned to him in bits and pieces, along with all the reminders of why this would never work between them. His career. Her fame. His son.
He scrolled farther. Somehow, this Kitty Sanchez bruja had also found out about the stalker, the attempted break-in, and—coño, carajo, there was even a picture of him kissing Jasmine from the exterior scene they’d shot in Spanish Harlem the other night. Presented without context, of course.
And he hadn’t told her. Angry tears burned her eyes but Jasmine refused to let them fall. Instead, she turned her phone off and finally fell asleep.
I understand Jasmine's feeling but maybe she could also consider about the whole stalking thing as to why Ashton never says anything, and she could hear his reasons.
Or SOAP SLUT? JASMINE LIN’S ON THE PROWL WITH HER LATIN LOVER COSTAR AND HIS SECRET BABY. Slut-shaming and an offensive stereotype, all in one headline? Real classy.
From now on, she would never again allow anyone to make her feel like her worth came from the man she was attached to. Not her parents, not the media, not goddamned Kitty Sanchez, and not herself either.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed his elbow and leaned in. “Meet me in my room,” she told him, fighting to keep her voice steady. “When you get back to the hotel tonight.”
Leading Ladies are whole and happy on their own. When she’d first written down the Leading Lady Plan, she hadn’t believed it. But now, she understood that being whole and happy on her own was the only way the other two things—getting recognition for positive reasons and making jefa moves—could happen.
“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.”
This is why you don’t date costars, dummy, her brain shouted at her. So much for being a Leading Lady. Go back to soap operas where you belong.
“School is overrated,” the boy said. “I want to be homeschooled. You know, you can do it all online now, and in fewer hours of the day. It sounds like a way better deal.”
Jasmine had been right. He couldn’t have it both ways. If he wanted the fame, he had to come to terms with being more visible. If he wanted to keep his private life completely private, then he couldn’t be a celebrity. The two just didn’t mesh.
“My point is, you can’t measure another person’s willingness to trust against your own. For example, you’d never have a secret baby because you can’t keep a secret. I’m kind of impressed
he managed it for—how old is the kid?”
Oh, shit. Yadiel had already been born when it happened. He would have been just a baby, but god, no wonder Ashton was so overprotective about his son’s safety.
But that wasn’t healthy. And trust wasn’t meant to be given in one lump sum. It was earned, little by little. And hadn’t Ashton been doing that? Little by little, he’d let her in. Who was she to say he wouldn’t have told her about Yadiel eventually? Kitty Sanchez had forced his hand, and Jasmine had made herself the victim.
“He was one douchebag who broke your heart. He just happened to be a household name.” “Michelle . . .” Ava raised her eyebrows in warning. Michelle shook her head. “No, I’m tired of it. She needs to know.”
Before Yadiel was born, maybe. Since then, he’d been keeping a secret, constantly worried someone would uncover it or that something terrible could happen to the people he loved and that he wouldn’t be there to protect them.
Leading Ladies are whole and happy on their own. Damn right.
“I wanted to tell you, Jasmine. So many times. But . . . keeping secrets becomes a habit. And I think I fell out of the habit of trusting other people. I’m a single dad, but I don’t know how to talk about it. I don’t know how to date anymore. My life . . . it’s complicated. And it might have just gotten more complicated, or less. I’m not exactly sure.”
Well, now she did. Jasmine was finally, for the first time in her life, successfully balancing all three.
She’d also started attending weekly therapy sessions, which were helping her cope with her need for external validation and her tendency to self-soothe with alcohol.
