Chase rolled her eyes and concentrated on the gaggle of teen boys heading her way, each holding money for bands. They were doing banner business. Tomorrow she’d sit in the dunking booth and hopefully raise some money for the children’s hospital. A few Oakland A’s baseball players and a Laker were also coming, thanks to Olivia’s contacts. Chase had also netted both Spencer and Chelle Gomez. Chelle was one of the members of Clash of Culture, a girl band with a growing following. She’d done rehab with Chase once upon a time and had managed to stay sober and still create decent music. People at the festival were going to be jazzed by the celebrities. Something about being the person who helped make that possible gave Chase a warm glow.

An hour and a half later, Zeke walked her way. For some reason he wore a cowboy hat, which normally she would think was lame-o but surprisingly suited his broad forehead and short-clipped beard. He reminded her of Chris Pratt a little, with the warm eyes and at-the-ready smile.

“Hello, cowboy,” she said with a smile.

“Hello, stranger. I was supposed to pick up a blonde at this ticket booth. Maybe you’ve seen her?” Zeke asked, peering around on either side of the single booth.

“You don’t like it?” she asked, not necessarily caring, because she liked it and what she liked was more important. Still, some part of her wanted him to see she wasn’t the girl who had admitted to doing not-so-smart things over the past few years. She wanted him to think she was . . . changed.

“Come out and let me see.”

“I can’t yet. I’m waiting to be relieved by”—she picked up the schedule she’d been given—“Annalisa Batton?”

Zeke’s eyes widened.

“What?” Chase asked, sensing his emerging panic.

“Nothing. She’s just a girl I dated last year.”

Chase didn’t like the weird reaction in her gut. She hated Annalisa. Abhorred her. Wouldn’t pour water on her if she were on fire. But instead of showing this, she summoned her acting skills and placidly said, “Well, I’m sure you’ll want to say hello.”

“I’m sure I will not. She told people I was a jerk just because I said I wanted to take things slow. Not to mention, she booked the Eureka Hotel for a wedding reception.”

“What does that—”

“Our wedding reception,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Chase gave her alarmed face . . . because that truly was scary. She never thought about marriage. Seemed so odd to think about being a bride. Being someone’s wife. “So how about I hand off the money to her and meet you at the Dunkin’ Dogs booth over there?” She pointed to a hot-dog stand that specialized in exotic dips for the fair-size hot dogs.