Page 6 of Off Script

“And she’s in denial,” Cass said.

“He can just do so much better,” Mikayla said. “What are they fighting about?”

Cass’s face lit up at the opportunity to share more juicy gossip. “Girl, you are not caught up on the tea. That is so not like you.”

At the mention of “tea,” Mikayla rushed to take out her phone, and Jada knew where this was headed. That damn gossip page.

“God, why does everyone follow that stupid website?” Jada groaned, the move upsetting Cass’s work on her lips. “Sorry.”

“Tristan got in a fistfight over her?” Mikayla gasped.

Cass cleared Jada’s chin of the offending lipstick. Listening to them rehash the incident, Jada’s spirits dipped further. Not only were the two leads in some affair that might hurt the production, Tristan was for sure not the chivalrous Adonis Mikayla made him out to be.

Eventually, Cass finished dolling Jada up, and she left the two behind. As Jada exited the makeup room, agitated whispers—that were gradually becoming much louder—caught her attention.

“Tristan, you’re not being fair!” A woman’s high-pitched complaint traveled around the corner. Jada stopped short at the girl’s voice, not wanting to reveal herself and make whatever was going down worse.

“Life isn’t fair, Angela. I’ve tried to be nice about this, I’ve tried to be reasonable. But you are refusing to accept how I feel or what I’m saying. I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“You’re acting like everything is my fault!”

“Maybe not everything, but I wouldn’t be headed back to Cass if Ren hadn’t pointed out this stupid foundation isn’t enough to cover up the big-ass bruise on my face.”

“Ren being overly critical is not my fault,” Angela protested.

“Whatever. I’m done, and I mean it this time.”

If Tristan really was “done” with their conversation he might turn that corner at any moment. Jada could either a) keep going and run right into them, b) stand here like an idiot, or c) flee in the other direction. Turning on her heel, she rushed to rejoin Cass and Mikayla in the dressing room—only to stub her toe as she tried to swing the door open. Hissing at the sharp pain, she barely registered Mikayla’s and Cass’s looks of confusion at her failed entry. Instead, the deep male voice from earlier snapped her out of her agony.

“Oh, hey . . . you okay?”

Reluctantly, Jada turned around and came face to face with the infamous Tristan Maxwell.

Tristan’s bluster from his latest altercation with Angela deflated the second he set eyes on Jada. Even though his widescreen TV at home came in high-def, the pixels on-screen didn’t compare to seeing the woman in person. She was undeniably stunning, with caramel-brown skin, breathtaking hazel eyes, and curves in all the right places. Tristan dealt with beautiful actresses regularly, but something about Jada’s sudden presence left him speechless. She also seemed at a loss for words as they studied each other. Not wanting their first meeting to turn into creepy awkwardness, Tristan held out his hand.

“Hi. Tristan Maxwell. You must be Jada.”

“That’s me.” She glanced down at his hand before shaking it hesitantly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. I—”

“Jada!” a purposeful voice called out to them. Andrew Chaudhry arrived on the scene, his foot tapping urgently. “Ren wants to talk to you.”

“Of course. I’m on my way.” Jada tossed Tristan a smile and a civil nod before following Andrew.

Tristan watched her leave, then poked his head into the makeup department. Mikayla and Cass looked at him expectantly, dual smug smirks on their faces.

“Saw that, did you?” Tristan asked them.

“Mm-hmm. I must say, I’m not sure how I feel about you ogling my cousin. Unless your intentions are honorable,” Mikayla warned him.

“Your cousin?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ve mentioned it. Although Jada doesn’t particularly like me bragging about our family ties. She wants us to stand on our own merits.”

Tristan racked his brain, trying to remember if he and Mikayla had ever talked about Jada before. He was sure they hadn’t. Most of his conversations with Mikayla revolved around making fun of Ren. Tristan had a feeling Ren’s admonishments of Mikayla were more charged than either of them realized, as the tension between them was too intense to solely be work based.

“What did you stop by for, hun?” Cass interrupted his thoughts.

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