Page 86 of Off Script

“Maxwell, you are so far off. Angela is not the real problem. Although she did warn us you were getting pretty wild with your accusations.”

“Baby brother, he’s notthatfar off. We’ll give you a hint since you’re superadamant. The snake in your garden? Their initials are A. C.”

Tristan didn’t get the chance to interrogate them further because another journalist called out to the two bloggers. Probably desperate to share some other juicy gossip. Tristan watched them go with a furrowed brow.

“A. C. is definitely Angela Collins, right, Jada? They’re just trying to confuse me. I mean, who else has those initials?” While Tristan puzzled over what they’d learned, Jada struggled to get her inner hysteria under control. The twins might not have known about Jada’s role in releasing the video, but this encounter proved one thing: Jada’s plausible deniability would not last indefinitely. Tristan seemed determined to find out what was really going on withSip That Teaand their snitches.

If he found out that one of the aforementioned snitches had been Jada. . . . Now sick to her stomach, she tapped Tristan on the shoulder.

“Do you think we can go outside? Maybe get some fresh air?” she asked.

Tristan agreed and went to tell Bryan they were heading out. Meanwhile, Jada tried to keep her roiling revulsion at bay.

So much for tonight being about creating a special memory. The only thing she had to reflect on now was borrowed time.

With the Tea Twins officially souring the mood, Tristan fully supported Jada’s decision to leave. That shitty clue they had given him left him stewing over whether he could pin down the culprit with that meager information. It was only when the chilly air hit them outside and he noticed Jada shivering that Tristan regained a bit of his senses.

“I’m sorry. I guess we didn’t account for how cold it would get later.”

As Tristan wrapped his arms around her to warm Jada up, she leaned into him wordlessly. Obviously, she’d been affected by Tammy and Tegan’s toxicity too. Tristan geared up to ask if she wanted to simply head back to the hotel, but after the night starting off so well, he hated to leave things as they were. Glancing down the street, he saw another gaudy sign twinkling at them. With the nameCelia’sflashing at them, Tristan found a way to save the evening.

“Jada, I hope those are your get-down pumps.” Tristan motioned to Jada’s sparkly gold high heels.

“What in the world are you talking about?”

He pointed to the brick building. “Because we’re going dancing.”

“I see. Are you trying to drag me to a discotheque, Mr. Warhol?” Jada eyed the building suspiciously.

“Better. It’s this great little salsa place. I forgot it was in this part of town.”

“You can dance salsa too?”

“A little.” He shrugged. “I had to learn for one of my movies. I picked up one or two things.”

“Sorry, but I’m not really in a dancing mood,” Jada said, confirming Tristan’s suspicions regarding the effect of the terrible Tea Twins. Regardless, he refused to accept defeat.

“Come on. They’ve also got kick-ass margaritas. I know how you feel about margaritas, Miss Yams.”

Jada flushed, but then relented. “Fine. You’ll dance. I’ll drink. How’s that?”

That concession was fine with Tristan. Especially when he and Jada entered Celia’s, and Jada’s sullen air lifted. Named after the magnificent Cuban singer Celia Cruz, the place was adorned with pictures of her and her famous performances. Portraits of other important Latin artists also lined the walls, everyone from Selena and Calle 13 to Mexico’s sweetheart, Angélica María. Beneath the extensive collage, the walls were decked out in splashes of bright red and yellow, and the dance floor was full of exultant bodies swaying to the live music.

After Jada fulfilled her part of the deal by drop kicking a giant margarita and a handful of salty tortilla chips, Tristan insisted that she get out on the floor with him. Luckily, the music had switched to a slower number as he guided her around the floor. Everything was light and easy until the band moved into their next song and the tempo changed. As a quick cha-cha struck up, Tristan moved faster. Jada managed to keep up as he twirled her into a graceful and impressive dip.

“You told me you could only dance a little,” Jada said, already out of breath.

“Depends on your definition of a little.” Tristan shrugged lightly, not wanting to reveal the truth: his mom had started teaching him different Latin dance styles right about the same time he learned to walk.

“Why, Tristan Maxwell, you’re full of surprises.” Jada laughed.

Looking down at her joyful smile, a different truth slipped out of him.

“And you have been the best surprise of my life, Jada Berklee.”

Touched, Jada lowered her eyes, trying—and failing—to hide her emotions. She looked back up and swooped in for a passionate kiss.

“I think I’m ready for a different kind of dance,” Jada said after pulling away.

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