“Eight,” Jasmine replied, finally satisfied with the leaves. “Yadiel is eight.”

Wait. There was something about numbers . . .

Jasmine’s hands stilled on the leaves as her stellar memory supplied a missing piece of the puzzle. After the Latinx in the Arts Summit, Ashton had told her about the attempted home invasion. What had he said exactly?

Around seven years ago, someone tried to break into my house.

Seven years. According to Buzz Weekly, Yadiel was eight. That meant . . .

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.

“That is impressive,” Ava agreed, referring to how long Ashton had kept Yadiel a secret. “And you’re both right. These centerpieces are too complicated.”

Michelle held up a finger threateningly. “Oh no you don’t. You designed them and insisted they would be ‘easy’ to assemble at the venue. We had our doubts, but now we have committed to these centerpieces and goddamn it, we are making these centerpieces.”

Ava sighed and kept sorting palm leaves.

Jasmine’s mind continued to turn over this new realization. Ashton had left out mention of Yadiel when he’d told her about the break-in. But still, he’d shared it with her, one of his biggest secrets. That couldn’t have been easy for him.

Michelle was right. Jasmine did trust easily, and look where it had gotten her. She could see now it was a direct response to feeling ignored and misunderstood by her parents and siblings. It was why she’d readily given her heart to every semi-attractive man who’d even shown her an ounce of attention. She sought her parents’ love by securing romantic relationships, because in her family, that was what made you a success.

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.

It occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, packing her bags and leaving a frantic voice mail on her agent’s cell phone was just a tiny bit rash.

Jasmine’s mind wandered back to something else Michelle had said earlier. “You’re right about another thing,” she murmured.

“Of course I am.” Michelle shot her a grin to show she was joking. “What am I right about this time?”

“I do love working on Carmen.” Jasmine set down the shears and tried to put the feeling into words. “Working on a show with so many Latinx cast and crew members? It was an incredible experience. I got so caught up in the drama of Ashton that it didn’t fully sink in while I was there. But when I compare it to working on, well, every other show I’ve worked on . . . god, it was like magic.”

Ava nodded, her eyes full of understanding, and touched Jasmine’s hand. “Keep cutting the leaves,” she said in a mock whisper. “And I’m sorry it wasn’t picked up for a second season.”

“Oh, we still don’t know,” Jasmine said absently as she measured and cut.

“Wait, what?” Michelle stared at her, then at the suitcases in the corner. “You don’t even know if you’re getting a season two but you’re still going back to Glamour Squad? What about your contract?”

Before Jasmine could answer, someone called out, “Hello?”

Ava let out a panicked squeak. “Oh god, one of the tías is early.”

“Worse than that,” Jasmine murmured, spotting a familiar freckled face in the entrance to the ballroom. “It’s my agent.”

“For real?” Michelle dropped the roses and raised a hand, waving Riley over. “Hey, come over here and help us talk some sense into your client.”

Riley Chen rushed into the room, her dark shoulder-length bob mussed and her freckled cheeks flushed. She dragged a rolling suitcase behind her with a laptop bag slung over one shoulder, making her petite frame slightly lopsided.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Riley said. Her eyes widened as she took in Jasmine’s pile of suitcases.

“Did you just come here from California?” Jasmine asked in disbelief.

Riley shot her an exasperated look. “I got on the first flight this morning, which I wouldn’t have had to do if you’d answered your phone.”

Jasmine grimaced. “I swear I was going to call you when I got back to LA.”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t need you in LA. I need you here.”

Jasmine pursed her lips as something else occurred to her. “Speaking of, how did you know to find me here?”

“I follow Michelle on Instagram.”

Michelle looked up from where she was taking a picture of the flowers from an artful angle. “What, you didn’t know Riley and I are mutuals?”

Ava retrieved a bottle of water and a donut for Riley, who took them gratefully. “So, since you’re here,” Ava began, and glanced meaningfully at the still-unassembled centerpieces. “Want to help us with these while we help Jasmine make a decision?”

“I’ve already made a decision,” Jasmine said, although she was feeling less decisive by the minute.

“Your decision sucks,” Michelle told her. “Make a new one.”

Jasmine shot her a glare, but didn’t reply.

Riley wiped the donut crumbs off her fingers with a napkin, then took the cut ribbons Ava handed her. “While I would never tell you that you’ve made a bad decision,” she began, “it is my duty as your agent to remind you that you signed a three season contract, and to ask that you hold off on deciding anything just yet.”

“I guess this means you didn’t call Ben at Glamour Squad?”

“Ah, I did not, no. Because I was waiting for you to wrap Carmen before telling you I’ve had a lot of inquiries come in. People want to work with you, and they’re trying to get you on their schedules before Carmen gets picked up for another season.”

“We don’t know if it will,” Jasmine pointed out, but Riley cut her off.

“Oh, it will. Trust me, with the amount of buzz the show has been getting, they’d have to be stupid not to film more episodes.”

Jasmine frowned. “You mean all the stuff about me and Ashton? That’s not good buzz.”

“All buzz is good buzz. Haven’t you—oh, shoot.” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “I forgot you deleted all your social media apps. You really haven’t seen.”

“Seen what?” Bewilderment mixed with apprehension. Now what were people saying about her on the internet?

Riley pulled out her phone and navigated to Jasmine’s Instagram profile.

Jasmine blinked. “Holy shit. Since when do I have one hundred thousand followers?”

“Since the publicist for Carmen has been working her butt off to generate early buzz for the show.” Riley took her phone back. “Tanya’s been posting pictures and videos from the set since the beginning, playing up the Latinx angle and the rom-com angle. Rom-coms are huge right now.”

Jasmine shook her head in awe. “I had no idea. After McIntyre, I’ve been completely ignoring all that.”