Ana rocked back in her chair. “Oh.”
“I’ve surprised you.” Again, Gillian’s tone shifted. “I’m sorry I was so blunt. I thought you were blowing me off.”
“I wasn’t,” Ana said honestly. “Despite what you may have heard about my relationship with Ward—there’s no way he’s playing a song—new or otherwise—at the street fair.”
Gillian didn’t respond right away, so Ana continued.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s not the big story you were hoping for. But Ward’s involvement with Hannah’s Hope is strictly as a board member and supporter. He’ll be attending the street fair in that capacity.”
At least she hoped he would. Since she hadn’t spoken to him since Sunday evening, for all she knew, he’d changed his plans and was on his way back to Charleston already.
“You sound really sure,” Gillian said, confusion in her voice.
Ana thought of Cara’s sunglasses sitting on the console by the door. Thought of the empty house he didn’t live in and the tiny carriage house to which he’d exiled himself. She thought of the Alvarez sitting in a glass display case at CMF, forever, eternally unplayed.
And then, thinking of the big fight they’d had, she figured the chances of him even showing up at the street festival were pretty slim. Forget playing at it.
“Yes. I’m very sure.” Then she thought of the annoyance in Gillian’s tone just a moment ago when the other woman had thought Ana was lying to her. “Wait a second. You sound pretty sure yourself.”
“I… You know,” Gillian said with sudden cheer. “I must have been mistaken. Thanks for your help.”
A second later, the line went dead.
Ana pulled the handset away from her head and stared at it suspiciously. She replaced the handset in the cradle, turned back to her computer and drummed her fingers mindlessly on her keyboard. Then looked up the number for the Gazette on Google, called it and a moment later had the front desk connect her to Gillian’s phone.
“You sounded really sure,” Ana repeated.
“I didn’t,” Gillian protested.
“No. You did. You were actually annoyed when you thought I was putting you off. What’s up?”
“There’s nothing up!” But Gillian’s voice sounded high and strained. She may be used to asking tough questions, but she wasn’t used to being in the hot seat herself.
“Who did you talk to that made you think he’d be performing at the open house?” Because God help her, if Christi had out-and-out lied to the editor to get him to run the story…
“A reporter never gives up her sources,” Gillian said sternly.
“Right,” Ana quipped. “This isn’t exactly high political intrigue we’re talking about. It’s entertainment gossip. Who is this source of yours?”
“Look, I just…” Gillian stammered. Then she released a sigh. “If he’s planning some big romantic gesture, I don’t want to be the one to ruin it.”
“If who is planning some big romantic gesture?”
“Ward.”
Ana’s heart stuttered in her chest. Ward? Planning a big romantic gesture? For her?
A bark of bitter laughter bubbled out. Gillian seemed not to notice it.
“My big source,” Gillian continued, “is his assistant. He called to schedule an interview with me for immediately after the street fair. He’s the one who told me about the song and new album.”
Ana’s heart started thudding dully again in her chest. “You mean Ryan. His new public relations manager.”
“No, that wasn’t his name.” On the other end of the phone, Ana heard Gillian clicking away on her computer as if pulling up a file. “Jess was his name. And he said he was Ward’s assistant.”
Ana frowned, rocking slowly back and forth in her chair. Ryan, she totally would have expected this of him. He wouldn’t have any trouble misleading a reporter to get better press coverage. But it wasn’t like Jess at all. “And it was Jess who told you about the performance?” Ana asked, still trying to wrap her mind around it.
“Yes. He said Ward was going to perform. That it was the first new song he’d written in years and that it was off the new album he just started recording this week.” There was a long moment—during which Ana could do little more than frown and rock. And then Gillian asked, “You didn’t know?”
The hint of pity—or maybe blatant curiosity in Gillian’s voice snapped Ana out of it.
“I knew he was in the studio.” That was strictly true. Throughout his time in Vista Del Mar, Ward had spent significant time at a recording studio in L.A. “He produces albums. He’s working on an album for some kid he heard in a club a few months ago.”
“Yeah,” Gillian said. “Dave Summers. He was working on his album. But they finished in the studio two weeks ago. Ward still had studio time and he’s been using it himself.”
Still not quite believing what she was hearing, she said, “You just called the studio and asked? And they told you?”
“I can be very persuasive.” Gillian’s voice was smugly pleased.
“Apparently,” Ana grumbled.
“Look,” Gillian began. “I’m sorry if I put my foot in it. If he’s planning some big romantic gesture…” She let her voice trail off.
Yeah. Right. If Ward was planning some big romantic gesture, Ana would be arriving at the street festival in a chariot pulled by exotic long-haired llamas.
Still, Ana found herself offering up reassurances. “If he is planning something, I’ll act surprised.”
Which would not be hard to fake.
Whatever Ward was planning, it wasn’t a gesture. Romantic, big or otherwise. They hadn’t spoken since the fight at her uncle’s house. All her life, she’d told herself she was putting off romance because the time wasn’t right or because she hadn’t yet met the right man. But maybe it was none of those things. Maybe she just sucked at love.
By the time Saturday rolled around, she no longer knew what to expect from the festival. Lena had showed up for work, on time, appropriately dressed and brimming with energy every day. She seemed not just determined to succeed, but to trample into the dust any doubts Ana might have had about her capabilities. She was even respectful. Mostly. She refrained from making snide comments about Ana unless they were alone. Christi and Omar were happy for the extra help in preparing for the street fair and agreed hiring Lena was a stroke of brilliance. Plus, the extra help had freed up Ana’s time and allowed her to make progress on all the paperwork that had been bearing down on her.
There were even several minutes of each day leading up to the festival during which Ana didn’t feel overwhelmed by the task ahead of her. Then she would remember the possibility that Ward would show up, and the panic would return.
But the night before she’d walked away from her job in L.A., her mother had reminded her that the things in life that most scared you were the only things worth doing. The street fair definitely felt like that. Terrifying, but worth the risk.
Midway through the schedule of events, Rafe was supposed to put in a brief appearance. Ana was glad of that. Before he left for Charleston, apparently Ward had done his best to convince Rafe to show up. Though Rafe’s secretary had confirmed he’d be there and even though Emma spoke to him the previous day, Ana knew she’d relax considerably once his appearance was done with.
Just knowing he’d be there ratcheted up her own tension. Which was already high enough that she could barely sit still and hadn’t eaten all day, despite the array of tempting treats the Bistro had provided.
Several local restaurants had set up booths on either side of the street where they were selling food. Naturally, all the proceeds would go to Hannah’s Hope. In addition to the food, there were half a dozen performers scattered up and down the street, all people Ana had known during her stint in Hollywood. A couple of jugglers and a clown. In front of the police station, a couple of stunt men were giving demonstrations on how to fake a barroom brawl.
Ana had also talked some of her friends who were makeup artists into doing face painting for the kids. Even Emma’s cousin, Becca Worth, had come down from Napa to offer up wine tastings. And all up and down the street, Christi, Omar and Lena were mingling, clipboards in hand, to recruit future volunteers and hand out pamphlets about the many resources Hannah’s Hope could provide.
Watching it all, Ana felt a deep sense of satisfaction that almost—almost—replaced her sorrow. She relaxed only margin ally when she saw Emma making her way through the crowd to her side. Chase was with her, a protective hand at her waist.
“This turnout is amazing!” Emma said loudly to be heard over the carnival atmosphere of the crowd. She leaned in to give Ana a hug of encouragement.
Ana returned it briefly and tried not to cling too long. “I know,” she agreed, pressing a hand to her belly to calm her nerves. “I don’t think I even knew there were this many people in town.”
Emma gave a little frown. “Well, I’m guessing not. Don’t you think a lot of people came in from San Diego? Even from L.A.”
Something about Emma’s tone sent Ana’s anxiety soaring. “Why would they?”
Emma blanched. “I thought you knew. Didn’t you see the paper today?”
“Which paper?” she asked, her dread tightening.
“All of them, I think.” Emma gave Chase a nudge in the belly. “Can you pull it up on your phone?”
A few seconds later, Chase handed over his cell phone. Ana turned the phone and the headline from the Gazette popped into view. Ward Miller’s Big Comeback, the headline read. She quickly scanned the article, which contained details about the new album he was recording. And about his appearance at the Hannah’s Hope street festival.
“It ran in the San Diego paper and the Los Angeles Times.”