“Whatever.” Ricky gave another little shrug. “But I’ve known her longer.”
“Okay, then. What’s your point?”
Ricky leaned forward, gesturing sharply. “A woman like Ana, she’s tough, man. She’s not gonna fall for some guy just ’cause he’s smooth. She’s too smart for that.”
“Okay, mister fourteen-year-old-expert-on-women, what do you suggest?”
Ricky held up his palms in a sign of innocence. “Hey, I’ve lived with a single mother my whole life. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen The Notebook?”
That was actually a good point. Ward lowered himself into the chair opposite Ricky. “So what do you suggest?” he asked seriously. And then mentally kicked himself. Because if he was legitimately going to follow the advice of a fourteen-year-old boy, the situation was truly desperate. And then he realized, desperate or not, he loved Ana and she was worth fighting for.
“All I know is that at the end of the movie, Rachel McAdams doesn’t end up with the rich, charming guy. She ends up with the guy who really loves her.”
Well, that was the kicker, wasn’t it? Ward sat back in his chair.
“I do really love her,” Ward mused aloud. “But she sees through all my tricks.”
Ricky gave him a well-duh look. “You don’t use a trick.”
The most obvious solution, but also the most painful. And still a long shot.
Thirteen
Part of her expected Ward to show up again on her doorstep. Or at least come into the office. But when one hour passed and then another, she realized she had to accept a grim reality. She’d asked him to leave and he’d taken her at her word.
It didn’t matter that she knew she’d made the smart choice. It didn’t matter that she knew their relationship had come to its logical end. Her heart still ached for what might have been.
No. Not even that. Her heart ached for what she imagined might be possible.
The honest truth was, she’d known going into it that they had no future. She’d known he still loved Cara. She’d simply let herself ignore the obvious. For a little while.
Of course she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything she’d done. She’d gained too much by knowing him. Obviously, there was the mind-blowing passion to consider. But even more, there was the insight into herself.
She felt as though she’d barely known herself until now.
Ward, for all his flaws—if loving his wife could truly be a flaw—had seen her more truly than she’d ever seen herself. He’d pointed out the lies she’d told herself to hide her deepest fears. And if she loved him at all, then the least she could do was respect the memory of their relationship enough to honor that.
Which was how she ended up parked on the street outside of Lena’s house just before noon. Just in time to see Ward leaving. She’d recognized his Lexus parked on the curb and so had parked her own sedan a few doors down, crouched low in her seat and waited.
Biting down on her lower lip and cupping her hand beside her sunglasses, she watched as Ward shook hands with Ricky. He gave the boy an attaboy slap to the arm. Then Ward walked out to his car, climbed in and drove away without even glancing in her direction. Which she supposed was to be expected. It was a miracle he’d ever glanced in her direction to begin with.
She waited five minutes to make sure he wasn’t going to turn around and come back, having forgotten his sunglasses or something. And then she waited another five for the knot in her throat to loosen. Then she climbed out of her car and walked up to Lena’s door, cursing the way fate had put her and Ward in the same place at the same time. It was bad enough that she’d still have to work with him occasionally for Hannah’s Hope. Why did she have to see him today, when she was already feeling so emotionally vulnerable?
When she knocked on the door, Ricky answered right away. His gaze widened in surprise and he gave a nervous little glance down the block as if to verify that Ward was truly gone.
“Ana. ¿Cómo estás?”
“I’m good. Is your mom here?”
“Ward just left,” Ricky said, instead of answering. His posture was belligerent. Protective almost.
“I saw that,” she answered.
Apparently, Ricky was hoping she’d press him for more information, because his expression soured into a snarl. “Don’t you want to know why he was here?”
She really didn’t. The less time Ward spent in her brain, the faster she’d recover. But Ricky obviously had no interest in protecting her. “Fine. Why was he here?”
“He was saying goodbye. He’s going back to Charleston.”
That defensive challenge was so strong in Ricky’s gaze, she couldn’t say anything.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know you really liked him.”
“He’s leaving because you broke his heart,” Ricky accused.
“He told you that?”
“He didn’t have to. I’m not an idiot.”
“Right.” And now she felt like that bad guy. What a fantastic day this was turning into. “Is your mom here or not?”
As if on cue, the door to one of the bedrooms opened and Lena propped her shoulder against the doorjamb. She was dressed in a robe, her hair mussed from sleep, her scowl already in place.
“What do you want?” she asked, her unspoken message—you don’t belong here—just as clear as her spoken one.
“I just wanted to talk,” Ana offered. She gave Ricky a pointed look and he was smart enough to excuse himself.
“I’ll be in my room, Mamá,” he said. As if she might need him to protect her from the big, bad Ana, when the reverse was probably far closer to the truth.
Once Ricky left, Lena’s scowl deepened. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I got a job working on the cleaning crew at the factory. That’s why I’m just getting up. Not ’cause I was out all night partying.”
Ana held up her palms. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it,” Lena accused.
“Honestly, Lena—” Then Ana forced out a sigh. No need to make things worse. “Look, I know you don’t like me. I know you think I’m spoiled.”
“And?” Lena asked with an arched brow.
Well. There she had it. It sure would have been nice if Lena had denied it. But since she hadn’t… “But I need a favor.”
“Why would I do you a favor?”
“Because the favor is I want you to accept a job at Hannah’s Hope.”
Lena’s gaze turned even more suspicious. If that was possible.
Ana could see the sneering anger ready to burst forth, so she jumped in before Lena’s indignation could overwhelm her pride.
“Just hear me out.” Lena studied her for a second before giving a little nod. “It’s come to my attention that I’m not reaching out to the community the way I need to.” She sighed, finding this harder than she expected. “Ward pointed it out actually. He thinks I’m afraid of being rejected. I don’t know. Maybe he’s right. I don’t know what it’s like to be poor. I know what it’s like to be unlucky, but I don’t know what it’s like to be down on my luck. But you do.”
Lena sneered. “So what? You want me to teach you what it’s like to be poor? Isn’t that backward?”
“No. I don’t need anyone to teach me. I just need someone who’s been there. Someone people will trust.”
Lena’s lower lip jutted out. “I’m not the kind of person people trust.”
“Well, you will be.”
For just a second, the suspicion faded from Lena’s gaze to reveal a flicker of hope. Seeing her chance, Ana started talking fast. “I can’t pay you much, but I can beat the cleaning crew at the plant. And the hours will be better. But you’ll have to work on your getting your GED in your off-hours. We’ll need to get you fully qualified within a year, I’d think.”
“What makes you so sure I’d want to work for you?”
“Because you believe in Hannah’s Hope. I know you do or you wouldn’t let Ricky go there. And I honestly don’t know if we can be successful without you.”
Ana could see Lena wavering. And she knew she’d win her over. She had to. She didn’t think she could take any more disappointment.
Before Ana could think of anything else with which to entice Lena, Ricky stuck his head through the door and yelled, “Come on, Mamá, just take the job!”
Lena’s expression softened. Then she smiled. “Well. I guess that settles it.”
Three days before the street fair, and her personal life in apparent shambles, Ana could think of about ten thousand things she’d rather do besides talk to a reporter. But when Gillian Mitchell from the Seaside Gazette called, Ana had little choice but to take her call. After all, Christi—who had dated the editor years ago—had called the guy several times hoping the Gazette would run a story about the street fair on the front page that Saturday.
The street fair seemed a pretty fluffy piece compared to the kinds of things Gillian covered, but if they wanted to put their ace reporter on it, who was Ana to complain?
However, she was not prepared for Gillian’s questions.
“Rumor has it that Ward Miller is planning on performing at the open house. This would be his first public performance in over three years. And the first single on the new album he’s been working on.”
For a second, Ana nearly laughed. As her surprise subsided, she weighed her options. Disappoint the reporter too much and she might not get the good placement they needed. But she didn’t want to toy with her, either. Finally, she hedged, “Ward is involved in a lot of charities. I’m sure they’d all love to claim his first public performance in three years.”
On the other end of the line, Gillian hesitated. Finally, in a tone that hinted at frustration, she said, “He may be involved in a lot of charities, but he hasn’t been involved with a lot of charity directors. I’d say his personal attachment to you changes things.”