Page 84 of You Had Me at Hola
Ignacio shrugged and gave him a crooked smile. “I check with my friends at the policía every month.”
Some of the tightness in Ashton’s chest eased. Of course Ignacio hadn’t forgotten what had happened. He’d been there that night. While Ashton had grabbed Yadiel out of his crib and called the police, his father had run outside with a baseball bat to chase the intruder away. What’s more, Ignacio had also been the one to file all the reports and follow up with the Miami PD while Ashton made immediate plans to sell the house and move Yadiel to Puerto Rico. Without his father’s help, Ashton never would’ve gotten through the experience.
Looking around at their smiling faces, at Yadiel high-fiving Abuelita Bibi, at Ignacio and Abuelito Gus discussing what they were going to wear to the studio, Ashton couldn’t deny them this. Even though it scared him.
He nodded. “Fine. I’ll ask the producers.”
God help him.
Chapter 33
Some small part of Jasmine hoped Ashton would have reached out while she slept, to offer an explanation, an apology,something. Instead, she got radio silence.
Oh, she hadplentyof texts and voice mails, but not a single one from Ashton.
Everything about her... fling? Affair? She didn’t even know what to call it. But everything about her time with Ashton had been different from all her other relationships.
Except this part. The part where she ended up alone. Again. Shit had hit the fan, and he’d bounced. Left her hanging. Ghosted her.
Okay, so he was probably dealing with some shit over on his end. After everything he’d told her, she could understand why he’d gone to extreme lengths to protect his child. It was admirable, if misguided. No one could work in the public eye and expect complete privacy. She knew that all too well. Especially since the news about Ashton’s son had unleashed renewed interest in Jasmine and her love life.
The “love triangle” rumor had picked up steam, and now a lot of outlets were carrying the story. Jasmine indulged inan epic eye roll. Of all the ridiculous notions. There was nojealousy on the setorsecret text messages, but the tabloids would write anything they could dream up to make the story more salacious.
They even unearthed Seth Thomas, Jasmine’s ex fromSunrise Vista, from whatever rock he’d been living under after a cocaine bust and multiple DUIs, to prove that Jasmine had a pattern of messy breakups.
As if she weren’t 100 percent aware of her own romantic failings.
Also, those things had happened to Seth long after they’d broken up and had nothing to do with her.
It hurt, being made out to be some kind of wild woman who threw herself at every man she worked with. Especially since, deep down, she worried it might be true.
She was just looking for love. What was so wrong with that? Granted, she was clearly looking in all the wrong places. But the headlines cut her to the core. Gems likeHERE ARE8OF JASMINE LIN’S MOST MEMORABLE BREAKUPS, JUST IN TIME TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT YOUR OWN MISERABLE LOVE LIFE. Jasmine didn’t think any of her breakups were particularly memorable, and she declined to go down memory lane with the photo slideshow. OrSOAP SLUT?JASMINE LIN’S ON THE PROWL WITH HER LATIN LOVER COSTAR AND HIS SECRET BABY.Slut-shamingandan offensive stereotype, all in one headline? Real classy.
And another by her good friend Kitty Sanchez that made an old quote from Seth sound like it was from McIntyre:DESPERATELY SEEKING JASMINE: EX SAYS “SHE WAS OBSESSED WITH ME.”
So much for her Leading Lady Plan. Clearly all anyone cared about was who she was fucking. Why bother trying to do more?
Anger flared—at Ashton, but also at herself.
She’d done it again, given her heart and her body to someone without any kind of assurances that they felt the same way.
Even she couldn’t ignore the patterns anymore. She’d seen them during that horrific brunch with her family, as if there were glaring neon signs over the heads of her parents and siblings that read,HERE IS THE SOURCE OF YOUR EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE!UNPACK ME!
She didn’t want to. She wanted to leave it all bundled up and locked away. But once you knew, you couldn’t unknow.
This was it, then. The final straw that would break a lifelong pattern of looking to men for external validation, for proof of her worth.
No. More.
The Leading Lady Plan, written in a mix of her handwriting and Michelle’s, flashed in her mind, reminding her that she was abadass queenwho waswhole and happy on her own.
Old Jasmine would have tormented herself with what-ifs and all the ways she might have done something to cause this.
New Jasmine refused to take the blame for the actions and choices of others. This wasnother fault. She had not forced the media to obsess over her. She had not made Ashton hide his son. And she certainly hadn’t done anything to warrant the kinds of headlines being written about her.
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.
Fueled by fresh resolve, Jasmine threw back the covers and stalked to the bathroom mirror to check her eyes. Not puffy, despite her restless night. Maybe her grandmother was on to something with this snail stuff.
