Page 29 of Off Script

Unfortunately, none of Tristan’s catty remarks could stop Juan. He settled in, making recommendations from the menu. Jada gladly took him up on his offer to try the bulgogi tacos with kimchi salsa, while Tristan stuck with his tried and true Thai basil nachos. As they waited for their food, Juan stayed put, bonding with Jada more than Tristan had. Tristan mentally took note of the new information as his bestie and his girlfriend shared a love of singing and their firm belief that dogs were better than cats. Tristan had to agree with that last one. Left to their own nefarious devices, Sphynx and calico cats would take over the world. Deceptively cute but deadly.

Everything was light and easy with a third party to take some of the pressure off. But when Juan asked how Tristan managed to rope Jada into being his girl, whatever rapport they’d developed flew out the window. Jada’s look silently screamed “He knows.” Tristan shook his head slightly to reassure her, but it didn’t stop beads of sweat forming on Jada’s forehead.

“There’s no need to rope someone in if they’re really soul mates. Love at first sight, right?” Tristan’s carefully crafted reply didn’t ease Juan’s calculating gaze.

“Okay, if you guys say so,” he said after a moment, probably not wanting to make Jada too uncomfortable.

The arrival of their food saved them from any further relationship talk. The nachos, piled high with juicy chicken and cheese and covered in peanut sauce, made Tristan’s mouth water. Jada’s plate was equally perfect for a foodie photo op, with the juicy beef sprinkled with spicy, fragrant toppings. Jada moaned with delight when she took her first bite, and Juan gleamed with pride.

“It’s good, right?”

“Amazing. I’ll definitely force Tristan to bring me here more often.”

“And you will always be welcome.”

Happy over Jada’s satisfaction with the food, Juan excused himself to go back to the kitchen. His absence and their own digging into their meals steered their conversation back to so quiet you could hear them chewing silence. Juan’s nosiness had gotten a lot of basic first date talk out of the way, so Tristan didn’t know what to bring up next. Usually, he was the most charismatic one in theGarciatrio, but his arrangement with Jada was far from being a random pickup in a bar or a hookup. At last, Tristan decided to stick with a topic more applicable to their situation.

“So, one of Doug’s producer friends is known to hang out at the lounge we’re going to. He’s looking for a lead in a new film. We figured you and I could go there, schmooze it up.”

“Oh wow. That’s soon. What do I even say to this guy?” Jada said, her brow furrowed uncertainly.

“Keep it casual. You don’t want to sound overrehearsed or like we’re begging. I’ll be there to steer things along, so there’s no need to freak out.”

Seeing Jada’s frown, Tristan began to wonder if the reason Jada didn’t have more prominent roles was because she lacked that shark instinct. Maybe she froze up in auditions or was afraid to put herself out there for something more challenging.

“What would be yourdreamrole?” Tristan asked, eager to get to the root of what Jada’s real ambitions were and why she had agreed to this.

“God, that’s a big question. Something groundbreaking, that challenges me to be a better actress.” A sad, distant cloud passed over Jada’s face before she went on. “I’ve always wanted to act, since I was a kid. But I don’t think I knew what that meant until I watched Thandiwe Newton inCrash. Everything about her was pitch perfect, her frustration and betrayal, all the little ways in which she reacted to the traumatic things that happened.”

Crashwas one of Tristan’s favorite movies, too, because of the way the characters’ stories wove together in the end. All the performances were fantastic but Thandiwe Newton’s portrayal had stood out to him too. As he smiled at her in understanding, Jada blushed.

“I want to do that one day. I want to be capable of that kind of greatness. I mean, I know I’ll probably never be like her or be the next Viola Davis, but . . .”

“You don’t have to be. Everyone always wants to label the next star the 2.0 of someone else. You can just be Jada.”

She brushed his compliment away, flustered at the praise. “Easy for you to say, acting is in your blood. Isn’t your mom a famous telenovela actress? I’ve seen a few of her shows when I’m flicking channels. She seems beautiful and talented.”

The +57 international code from the other day flashed in Tristan’s mind. A definite no-no on a first date was lamenting how your parents got divorced. Or more accurately, how your beautiful and talented mom abandoned you, and you spent your teen years working on sitcoms just to escape watching your dad waste away at home only to have her resurface later in the form of some fucked up pocket dial. Bitterness washed over him, his next words flying out before he could control them.

“That’s what she wants you to think.”

“What does that mean?”

God, he could not get into his messed up past with a woman he was just getting to know. Not right now.

“It means you should know by now that what you see on-screen isn’t real.” Tristan wiped his greasy nacho hands on a napkin, his appetite gone. Spotting the waiter, he flagged him down.

“Is something wrong with the food, Mr. Maxwell?” the waiter asked.

“No, but we’re finished now.”

“What? I’m not done,” Jada interjected, motioning to the remaining taco on her plate.

“That’s what to-go containers are for, honey,” Tristan insisted sweetly, but not even the term of endearment stopped Jada’s and the waiter’s mouths from dropping.

“I’d like one of those and the check, please.” This time his tone denied any further contradiction. When the waiter hurried off to fulfill his command, Jada jumped on him.

“What is wrong with you? I somehow tripped into your minefield of mommy issues and suddenly I can’t have dessert?”

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