Page 30 of Off Script

“More like we have more important things to do,” Tristan said, staring her down.

“Like what, Oedipus?” Jada shot back.

“Like if you’re nervous about meeting this producer guy, it’s better for us to head over there earlier to get in the networking zone before we actually talk to him.” Jada remained unmoved, crossing her arms. “Come on, if we can get you an audition in this guy’s next action film, you’ll be well on your way to moving up. It’s a big-time role.”

“How big?” Jada raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Summer blockbuster money. That’s way more fulfilling than La Rosa flan. Don’t tell Juan I said that, though.”

“Fine. We’ll go. But if this meetingdoesn’tturn out better than theirworld-famoustres leches cake, you and I are going to have a serious problem,” Jada said.

As Tristan paid the bill—and Jada stormed off to the car with her leftovers—there was no doubt in Tristan’s mind that they alreadydidhave a problem. Theyhadbeen able to fool Juan, though, based on his latest group texts.

Juan: It’s okay, Rafe. The girl’s got good taste

Rafe: Are you saying that because she’s actually good for baby Tristan or because she liked your kimchi salsa?

BOTH, Juan texted back, adding the 100 and chef’s hat emojis for emphasis.

Torn over the messed-up deception, Tristan texted back a sole thumbs-up, then followed after his outraged “soul mate.”

The car ride to the lounge crackled with more tension than the one to the restaurant, marking this evening as one of the biggest fake date fails in history. The blame didn’t solely rest with Jada. She’d signed up for fooling strangers with a little PDA for career clout.Notdeceiving people Tristan claimed mattered to him. Juan had been so kind and welcoming that lying to his innocent face had almost ruined the fantastic food. But seeing how Juan and Tristan interacted had softened Jada’s heart. She’d been even more touched when Tristan actually cared enough to ask her what her goals were, for them to bond over their shared career path. That budding opening lulled her into enough of a false sense of security to ask about Tristan’s real family. Big mistake, apparently.

Tristan’s dismissiveness hadn’t quelled Jada’s interest. It only raised more questions. Like what his mother could have done to make him hold a grudge for this long. Maybe her life as a telenovela star had gone to her head and then rubbed off into real-lifefamiliadrama. Okay, that was probably not the right Spanish translation, but still! Jada’s hands longed to whip out her phone and look up all she could about Isabella Moreno. She would have followed through on the impulse if she wasn’t worried about Tristan glancing over and catching her. No doubt he’d end up freaking out and crashing the damn car. Truthfully, Jada shouldn’t care this much about the intimate details of her fake boyfriend’s life. Hell, she didn’t want him digging into her past either. Nevertheless, it ate away at her how their dynamic felt like taking one timid step forward and then ten steps back.

But when Tristan pulled up in front of the lounge, he transformed from the brooding bad boy to the perfect boyfriend, hurrying to open her door. The gentlemanly gesture didn’t impress Jada as much this time around. Similar to their time at dinner, photographers snapped pictures as they entered the lounge, forcing Jada and Tristan to plaster smiles on their faces. Not to mention Tristan touching the small of her back territorially—something she didn’t appreciate. Like at the café, his touch unsettled her in a way that was unnerving and enticing all at once. His skin against hers was like static electricity, lighting up her nerve endings with sensual sparks.

When they passed through the lounge’s doors and out of the paparazzi’s sight, Jada immediately separated from him. Glancing around the room, she took in the smooth lilac walls and gleaming white furniture. It was low key but still radiated a sense of excitement with an open dance floor and a large bar, which looked enchanting with its wide array of shimmering bottles behind the counter, just waiting to help Jada escape the confines of tonight’s “date.”

“Where’s this producer?” Jada asked, cutting to the chase. Tristan gave her a dry glance in response.

“I don’t have a magic wand, Jada. I can’t make him appear the second we walk in. We’ll have to look around a bit. Besides, are you feeling calm enough to go meet him right now?”

“I guess I could get a drink first.”

“If it will help you loosen up, then yes. Please, let’s go buy some drinks. I could use one myself.”

“You’re driving,”

“I can handle one drink.” Tristan ignored Jada’s disapproving stare and headed to the bar on his own, forcing her to trail behind him.

“I’d like a scotch on the rocks,” Tristan told the bartender, then gestured to Jada. “And for the lady . . . ?”

“Sex on the beach, please,” Jada replied innocently, because why the hell not.

Tristan had screwed her around enough on this date, blindsiding her with surprises and emotional curveballs. It was time for her to do some teasing of her own. Sure enough, Tristan’s gaze flickered down to her lips with heated interest before he repeated the order. When the drinks came at last, Tristan took a swig of his. As if the sip gave him resolve, he spoke up.

“You can’t stay mad at me all night.”

“And why not?”

“Because for this whole agreement to work, we have to at least tolerate each other. You know I’m not happy about this, either, but I’m willing to try and make it work.”

“Ah, I see. So,that’swhy you keep yelling at me,” Jada pointed out.

Maybe it was easy for Tristan to sweep everything under the rug, but the memory of their on-set fight remained fresh in her mind. If their “agreement” meant putting up with more of his temper tantrums, Jada regretted her decision.

“Okay, I’ll work on that. But can we call a cease-fire for the remainder of this thing? I’d prefer it if we could handle it without you strangling me,” Tristan said with a grin. Damn, how the man could go from insufferable to charming! Jada felt herself smiling, no matter how hard she fought it.

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