Page 64 of Wish You Were Her
“Are we okay?” Jonah finally asked her, keeping his voice low and his tone gentle.
“Yeah,” she said, just as quietly. “We’re good.”
“Great.”
“But only because you’ll never get her,” she added, a little venomously, in a way that felt totally out of character. He saw a flicker of shame cross her face, but underneath it he could see she was hurt and embarrassed. He couldn’t blame her. He watched her blink back tears as she walked away and he cursed himself for being so clumsy with her. Obliviousness did not excuse the fumbling of someone’s heart.
Kerrie went to help with setting up the main tent, clearly determined to make it presentable whether Pamela H. J. Wilcox arrived or not.
“The whole event sold out in eight minutes,” the first volunteer whispered. “That’s never happened, in the history of the Lake Pristine Book Festival.”
Jonah did not need them to finish their thought. If Pamela did not show, after such a reception, it would fall onto the festival and they would have to give everyone their money back with a groveling apology. The possibility made Jonah feel ill.
The invited authors were always told to arrive at least ninety minutes before the start time of their event, and so the green room was starting to fill up with literary figures. Some were nervous debuts, others regular guests of the festival. Jonah watched with interest as a face he recognized appeared at the entrance to the green room.
A young publicist was bustling one of Jonah’s favorite literary fiction writers toward the table he was manning. The publicist smiled up at Jonah but he felt his heart deflate in weak disappointment at the rude manners on display from her companion.
“Food better be nicer than the crap they serve at—”
“Let’s just sign you in, Rodger.” And then, turning to Jonah, genially: “Rodger Altringham. He’s here for his event at noon.”
Jonah’s eyes drifted to the author, but the man was glaring angrily at his smartphone.
“Here’s his pass,” Jonah said, handing the publicist Rodger’s laminated name badge and lanyard. “Welcome to the Lake Pristine Book Festival.”
Rodger did not even spare him a glance, heading for one of the green room sofas instead. His publicist offered up an apologetic smile, but Jonah continued to feel dejected.
“Oh, my God, here she comes!” The slightly hysterical chattering from the young volunteers alerted Jonah to Allegra’s arrival. While the volunteers all wore bright yellow t-shirts with the festival name printed on them, Allegra had elected to wear a pale pink sundress with large dark glasses. She smiled at the volunteers and then nodded at their matching apparel.
“Mine didn’t fit, I’m afraid.”
“We can get you a different size,” one of them said instantly, their words a little garbled and overly loud.
“She’s fine,” Jonah said. “She’s perfect.”
Allegra finally looked at him and, for the first time since their initial unfortunate meeting, he dropped the mask. He let her see all of the things he had been terrified of anyone noticing—especially her.
The wanting, the pining, the curiosity and the hope.
She quickly looked away, but he refused to be dispirited.She had shown up, despite the way they had left each other the night before. Despite all of the things they had said and done to one another.
Jonah’s mystery girl had stood him up, but Allegra was not hiding away.
George arrived moments later.
“Any sign of our big name?” he asked Jonah.
“Not yet, and Courtney can’t get hold of anyone,” he reported, feeling strangely thrilled by his mentor’s attention
“It’ll be fine,” Allegra said smoothly. She clearly had complete faith in Wilcox. “She told me she would be here.”
“Yes, but that was a while ago now, darling, just after Quentin dropped out,” George said, speaking to Allegra as though she were eight and not eighteen. “Authors are temperamental.”
“She promised me,” Allegra said, speaking of the novelist with deep familiarity.
After confirming Wilcox as a guest to the festival, Allegra had suggested that they invite a debut fantasy author to the event to act as chair. Melena Banks, said debut, had now arrived, entering the green room with obvious trepidation. Allegra moved swiftly to greet her.
“We might have to shove my daughter onstage to appease the Wilcox fans if she doesn’t show,” George said to Jonah.
