A paparazzo had snapped the photo on a rare rainy day in Los Angeles as Jasmine was leaving the salon where she got her eyebrows threaded. Jasmine ignored the dig about her skincare routine and peered more closely at the magazine cover.

You look beautiful, although you really should moisturize more.” Abuela patted Jasmine’s cheek. “I look like a deer in headlights watching a lifetime of breakups flash before its eyes.” “A good picture?” Jasmine jabbed a finger at it. She dried her hands on a dish towel and joined Jasmine at the fridge. “Porque it is a good picture!” Over by the sink, Abuela Esperanza’s voice spiked with indignation. “We told Abuela to take it down, but she said it was a good picture of you,” her cousin Ava said from behind her. But no, here was one of those blasted covers, stuck to the fridge with magnets shaped like a pan of paella and the Puerto Rican flag.

“Who put this here?” Jasmine demanded, slapping her hand over the words, as if that could make them disappear, as if the whole embarrassing ordeal could be concealed so easily.Īvoiding the tabloids with her face on them had been hard enough in places like Target and the airport, but she thought she’d be safe in her grandmother’s kitchen in the Bronx. All caps, of course, and below it: Exclusive details from soap star Jasmine Lin’s humiliating breakup with rock star playboy McIntyre. The word glared at Jasmine in bright yellow letters, emblazoned directly beneath a picture of her own face. To my own Primas of Power, who inspired this book.Īnd to Rita Moreno, for lighting the way.

You had me at hola alexis daria