“East or West?” Ava asked.
“East.”
Michelle wrinkled her nose. “Gross. There’s nothing over there.”
“Tell me about it. If it were any farther east, I’d be sleeping in the middle of the FDR Drive.” Jasmine couldn’t complain too much, though. ScreenFlix had a contract with the hotel company, and her agent had negotiated for her to stay in one of their one-bedroom units with views of the East River. And since it was an easy drive over the Queensboro Bridge to the ScreenFlix Studios production lot, the Hutton Court was where she’d be living for the next three months.
Ava and Michelle exchanged a look, making no move to hide it. Jasmine waited a beat, then caved. “What? What is it?”
“Jas.” Michelle leveled her with a direct stare. “Just move back.”
Jasmine slumped into the sofa. She’d known this was coming. Every time she returned to New York City for a visit or a gig, her cousins launched their campaign to persuade her to move back permanently. The three of them had been born just a few years apart and had been one another’s constant companions, as close as sisters. Certainly closer to Jasmine than her own sister, Jillian.
Jasmine sucked in a breath to argue, but Ava leaped in before she could utter a word.
“Hear us out. There are plenty of shows filming in New York City now, and you’ll be closer to us.”
“Along with everyone else in our family.” Jasmine shook her head. “No thanks.”
Michelle shrugged. “A minor technicality.”
“We’ve been over this. The remaining soaps film in Los Angeles, and there are tons of other opportunities there. I can’t leave.” As much as she might want to. “Anyway, I have a plan.”
Michelle’s eyebrows shot up. “Do tell.”
“I love a good plan.” Ava set down her mug. “Let’s hear it.”
“It’s my Leading Lady Plan.”
Michelle’s eyebrows drew together. “What’s that?”
“My roadmap for staying on track with my career goals.” Jasmine pointed a finger at the ceiling, referencing her picture on the fridge upstairs. “One: Leading Ladies do not end up on tabloid covers.”
“That’s just not true,” Michelle cut in. “Look at Jennifer Aniston. They put that poor lady on magazine covers for all sorts of made-up shit.”
That was a good point. Jasmine didn’t want to turn intothe next tabloid favorite, although she’d happily follow in Ms. Aniston’s career footsteps.
“Can you give it a more positive spin?” Ava asked kindly. “Like saying what leading ladiesdoinstead of what theydon’t?”
It was such an Ava thing to say, but she was right. They both were.
“Fine.” Jasmine tore a sheet from the memo pad on the coffee table. The paper had beach details printed around the borders—sandals, an umbrella, a kid’s plastic shovel and pail—and said “Esperanza” on top in elaborate cursive. “What should I say instead?”
“How about, ‘Leading Ladies only end up on magazine covers with good reason’?” Ava suggested.
“That’s not exactly catchy,” Jasmine muttered, but she wrote it down with the tiny pen attached to the notepad.
“What was your second point?” Michelle asked.
Jasmine’s cheek’s warmed as she mumbled, “Two: Leading Ladies don’t need a man to be happy.”
Her cousins exchanged another look. It was the one they always shared when the subject of Jasmine’s love life came up.
“What about, ‘Leading Ladies are whole and happy on their own’?” Ava said, her tone gentle.
Jasmine doubted that, but since this plan was also supposed to keep her from getting derailed by romance, she wrote it down.
“What’s the third one?” Ava asked.