Page 27 of You Had Me at Hola
The moment stretched between them until a loud clang made them both jump. With perfect timing, Dahlia had plunked down a giant soup pot onto the stove.
“Time to start the broth!” she called out cheerfully, oblivious to what she’d interrupted. Eyes on their work, Carmen went back to peeling plantains and Victor resumed crushing garlic.
“Cut!”
Chapter 12
With the help of a real chef from a Caribbean restaurant uptown, they filmed the cooking montage, which involved a lot of chopping, laughing, and tasting. Ashton had grown up in his family’s restaurant, so this was nothing new to him. If anything, he was more comfortable in a kitchen than anywhere else, surrounded by the scents of garlic and cooked plantains.
This part was being filmed MOS—a motor only shot with no sound—so nothing they said would be included in the scene. They were supposed to look like they were having a grand old time, and luckily, Miriam Perez—who played Dahlia—was a comic actress with a ton of improv experience. Miriam kept Jasmine and Ashton grinning the whole time, doing things like feeding Ashton a taste of broth like he was a baby, airplane sounds and all. Ashton hoped that part made the final cut; Yadiel would get a kick out of it. And he had to admit he was having fun stretching his comedy muscles.
Ilba was all about making it as real as possible, so Ashton was tasked with keeping an eye on the broth and giving it the occasional stir. He was standing over the pot, inhaling thearoma that reminded him of home, when Jasmine appeared at his side.
Meeting his eyes, she dipped a fresh spoon into the broth. “If one has garlic, all must have garlic,” she said.
Was she alluding to their upcoming kiss scene? He hoped so, because now it was all he could think about, and he didn’t want to be the only one.
His gaze dropped as she brought the spoon to her mouth, her full lips enveloping the curved metal in a way that sent his heart racing. She swiped her tongue over her lower lip to catch an errant droplet of broth. Her lashes fluttered as she murmured a deep “mmm.”
Ashton cleared his throat. “I have mouthwash in my dressing room.”
Madre de Dios, he was thefucking worstat this.
“So do I. But still.” Jasmine’s smile was flirtatious as she dropped the spoon into her apron pocket and turned away. Ashton checked the urge to reach out for her. From the corner of his eye, he caught the camera tracking them. Only years of experience prevented him from making eye contact with the camera as he resumed stirring the broth.
Carajo. That was the realest moment they’d shared together as themselves, and it would likely end up in the final cut. Oh well. So be it. Their characters were supposed to be growing closer, right? Flirting and rekindling their abandoned romance. It fit the scene. No one else would think twice.
But Ashton had been acting opposite Jasmine for a few weeks now, and he knew the heat in her eyes, in her voice, had beenreal. She’d been flirting with him, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Not true. He felt great about it. Too bad he was so out of practice he lacked the ability to flirt back.
It was for the best. The only romance he was here for was the one unfolding in front of the camera.
When the director gave them a break before filming the kiss, Ashton ran back to his dressing room to clean his mouth more thoroughly than he ever had in his life.
He imagined Jasmine in her own dressing room undergoing the same pre-kiss ritual, then gargled with mouthwash one more time.
Out of habit, he checked his phone before heading back to set, and frowned when he saw a voice mail from his father. Holding it to his ear, he listened to the message.
“Hola mijo,” Ignacio began, his typical greeting. “No te preocupes, todo está bien.”
Ashton’s heart sank. Whenever his father started with, “Don’t worry, everything’s fine,” things were not, in fact, fine.
“We’re going to the ER,” Ignacio went on in Spanish. “Yadi fell out of a tree and hurt his wrist. I think it’s just a sprain, but we’re getting X-rays. And your grandfather’s cough still hasn’t gone away, so he’s going to get checked out too. Mi madre is coming along for the ride.”
With a final “don’t worry,” Ignacio ended the message. Ashton squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then called back. It rang, and rang, then went to voice mail. Resisting the urge to call back repeatedly until his father picked up, Ashton sent a text instead, telling Ignacio that he was filming but wantedupdates as soon as they were available. Short of running to the airport and hopping a flight to Puerto Rico, there was nothing else he could do.
This wasn’t Yadiel’s first trip to the ER. The kid never stopped climbing, which meant he fell a lot too. But each time, Ashton wished he could be there for the day-to-day bandaging of bumps and bruises. And his grandfather was eighty-three, so even a summer cold was a concern.
Someone knocked. “They’re ready for you,” a PA called out.
“Gracias,” Ashton replied. Coño. While worrying about his family, he’d completely forgotten that he was about to film his first kiss with Jasmine. Out of habit, he reached up to run his hands through his hair, then quickly jerked them away. He didn’t want to explain to the hair stylists why his hair was suddenly a mess.
What he needed to do was calm down, but with his father incommunicado and no time to wait around for a reply, that seemed unlikely to happen.
Nothing to do but show up on set and hope for the best.
Chapter 13
