Emma gave a good-natured grumble. “Would not.”
“Yeah, you would.”
Emma ignored her. “Well, for now you should concentrate on just meeting people and talking about Hannah’s Hope. Put out feelers. Maybe someone will be interested in coming to the street fair. Or…” Emma’s eyes lit up as she paused dramatically. “We could invite them all to a gala fundraiser.”
“Are we having a gala fundraiser?” Ana asked hesitantly.
“Well, we haven’t planned one yet.” Emma all but bubbled as she warmed to the idea. “But we should! Think about it. It just makes sense. You can talk up Hannah’s Hope tomorrow night at this Valentine’s Day thing. Ward can invite all the bigwigs he knows. Chase can, too, for that matter. We can host the event in a couple of months when we have some real successes to show off and—”
“How is Rafe going to feel about this?”
Emma’s gaze narrowed in fierce protectiveness. “Right now, I’m so not concerned about how Rafe feels about anything.”
“Oookay.” Apparently, Emma was still worried that Rafe planned to dismantle the company bit by bit. Ana knew Chase was doing everything in his power to convince Rafe to take a different approach, but if Emma’s reaction was any indication, he must not be making very much progress. Over drinks, Emma had mentioned that she’d done what she could to smooth over the rift between the stepbrothers, but apparently, her generosity of spirit extended only so far.
“Just think about it,” Emma continued. “You’ve been worried about funding anyway. This is the perfect way to secure funding for the charity.”
Ana was warming to the idea. “I don’t think anyone at Hannah’s Hope has the experience to organize something like this. Well, maybe you do.” She dropped her gaze to Emma’s belly. “But you’re going to have your hands full in the coming months. We’re going to have to hire someone to plan it.”
“Didn’t you say you’d recently been to a wedding where you were really impressed by the party planner?” Emma asked.
“Yes, I did.” She gave her temple a quick tap, trying to pull up the woman’s name. “She was just starting her own business and looking for work. She would be perfect for the job. Paige something. Adams maybe.”
Emma smiled triumphantly. “If she’s looking for work, this will be a dream job.”
“I’ll give her a call,” Ana agreed. “But first we should put out some feelers. See what the rest of the staff thinks.”
Emma, never one to give up a fight easily, reached over to finger the dress. “And the dress?”
“I’ll think about it.”
In fact, she was afraid she’d think about little else.
As they finished talking about the fundraiser, Ana gave the fabric of the dress one last touch. It was as light and airy as dragonfly wings.
Then she led Emma from the room and resolutely shut the door on the dress. She didn’t want Emma to know how heartsick the sight of it made her.
She just didn’t know how to feel about this new twist their relationship was taking. The Valentine’s Day party, the dress…it all seemed so intimate.
Emma wouldn’t understand. But then, Emma didn’t know about Cara’s sunglasses.
Nine
When she didn’t say anything about the dress, Ward wondered if she would wear it. So he was pleased when he stopped by her house to pick her up and found her dressed in it. She looked exactly as he’d imagined. And, yes, he’d even imagined the frown.
“I’m glad you wore the dress,” he said, leaning in to brush a quick kiss across her cheek. Of course, he’d seen her at the wedding just that morning. At the time it had been all he could do not to pull her fully into his arms and stake his claim on her where everyone could see. But he was trying to respect her wishes to keep things quiet.
Besides, stirring up gossip wasn’t the best idea at someone else’s wedding, when everyone was supposed to be focusing on the bride. The ceremony had been simple, yet lovely, as elegant as the bride herself. Ana had cried openly during the ceremony and the small reception that followed. Though he’d been curious about her parents, who’d also attended, he’d stayed firmly on the groom’s side of the celebration, well away from temptation. Even now, he had to force himself to put some distance between them.
Her frown deepened for an instant. “How did you even know about the dress?”
“I asked CeCe.”
“This wasn’t a Hudson Pictures movie. I’ve never worked for them.”
“True, but CeCe grew up in Hollywood. She knows everyone. She told me this was the most gorgeous dress she’d ever seen. She said this was the dress you’d want to wear at least once, even if you’d worked your fingers to bloody nubs sewing it.”
“Well, at least she has excellent taste.” Ana smiled a bit reluctantly. “And I’m glad you followed my advice and didn’t rent a limo.”
He guided her down toward his Lexus. “It’s an hour and half drive into Beverly Hills. If we were alone in the back of a limo, I couldn’t promise to keep my hands to myself.”
Ana didn’t know what she expected from the Hudsons’ bash. Obscene displays of wealth. Check. Obnoxious paparazzi. Check—though they were barred at the door. A dazzling array of stars. Check.
What she had not expected was to be blindly welcomed into their midst. As a costume designer, she’d mostly lingered on the fringes of Hollywood society. Tonight she was escorted into its upper echelons.
The Hudsons’ annual bash was held at Hudson Manor, a sprawling Elizabethan mansion that ate up acres and acres of prime Beverly Hills real estate. The entire first floor of the manor had been lavishly decorated in red hearts and pink ribbons. The kitschy decorations contrasted sharply with the elegant surroundings.
Ward fit right in among all the stars and seemed to know nearly everyone. She did her part to talk up Hannah’s Hope to anyone who displayed even the tiniest smidge of interest and she had several people who seemed genuinely intrigued. She found she was better at the schmoozing than she thought she’d be.
But she was nowhere near as good at it as Ward was. Listening to him talk up Hannah’s Hope was almost as impressive as watching him play on stage. He was a genius. And his passionate enthusiasm for Hannah’s Hope only made her feel more vulnerable. Why couldn’t Ward be shallow and self-serving?
Ana excused herself to find the bathroom while Ward was chatting with the star of a late-night show. As she left the bathroom, she ran into CeCe Hudson. Ana was surprised that the other woman even remembered her. Yes, they’d met only about an hour before, but surely she was just a face in the crowd of hundreds.
“How are you enjoying the party?” the petite brunette asked.
“It’s wonderful,” Ana enthused.
CeCe chuckled. “Liar. You’re miserable.”
“I—” Ana stammered.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” CeCe linked her arm through Ana’s and started to guide her toward the buffet. “I used to hate these kinds of things, too. But it goes with the territory, right? You date someone rich and powerful, you end up hanging out with the shallow and the vain.”
“I—” Ana fumbled for a response. Finally, she settled on, “Ward and I aren’t dating.”
CeCe slanted an assessing look at Ana. “Really?” She didn’t sound in the least bit convinced.
“Really. I’m only here to promote Hannah’s Hope.”
CeCe arched an eyebrow. “Naturally. Jack mentioned the benefit you’re thinking of throwing. Great idea, by the way.” They’d reached the buffet table and CeCe picked up a plate and pushed it into Ana’s hands. “Be sure to let me know if Hudson Pictures can do anything.”
“Thank you. That’s very generous.”
“Ward’s a good guy. It’s the least we can do for the woman he’s not dating.”
“We’re really not—”
But CeCe cut her off. “Hey, I’m all in favor of keeping things out of the press. Reporters can muck up anything, can’t they?”
“That’s certainly true,” Ana agreed. The press had a way of sticking their collective noses in at precisely the wrong time.
On the way into the party, they’d badgered Ward about whether or not he was returning to a musical career. They’d asked about the studio work he’d been doing and every time he’d tried to steer the conversation back to an up-and-coming musician whose album Ward was producing, they’d changed the subject. Nor did they let him talk much about Hannah’s Hope. Apparently, the media heard only what they wanted to hear.
The reporters’ persistence didn’t seem to bother Ward at all. He seemed oblivious to how invasive their questions were. Throughout the ordeal, he was as charming and relaxed as he was…well, at a party.
Almost as if she could read her thoughts, CeCe gave a little cringe. “Sorry about all the reporters outside the party. It used to be the Hudsons never allowed that. But now that we’re raising money for breast cancer research, we figure any press for the cause is a good thing. Besides, some people give more generously when it’s going to be on Entertainment Tonight.”
Ana and CeCe chatted for several minutes as they worked their way through the buffet line. Ana felt marginally more comfortable, but eventually, CeCe’s hostessing duties took her away and Ana was left on her own again.
She made her way back to Ward. Unfortunately, when she rounded the corner, she saw him talking to the one person she least expected. Ridley Sinclair. The supposed happily married star who had hit on her and then made her work life miserable.
Ridley Sinclair was a first-rate jerk. Her last job had been one misery after another because he was always on set. After all, his wife had been the star of the movie.
Ana never wanted to see him again. Yet, here they were. At the same party. And he was talking to Ward. And here she was, in the dress that had been made for his wife.