Our morning run-through went far better than I might’ve guessed, based on the prior day’s rehearsal. And even though our regulars did a fine job, I had to admit there was something rather special about watching Erin at work, especially now that I knew she would be playing the role. Her comedic timing simply took my breath away.

We took a break for lunch around 11:30, but I had a lot of work on my plate, so leaving seemed out of the question. Jason had other ideas.

“I’m starving. Want to join me for lunch?”

Suddenly everything I’d planned to do during the lunch hour could wait. I gave him a smile. “Love to. Hang on, okay?” I turned back to scribble a few things onto a piece of paper. “Sorry, I had to get that down before I forgot.”

We walked to the commissary as a tour bus approached. Several starstruck fans waved as if they thought we were movie stars. After years in the business, I still couldn’t get over how some fans acted around famous people. Crazy.

“Whoa.” Jason took hold of my arm and pulled me toward him as the bus ambled by. The protective gesture almost brought tears to my eyes. Most of the men in my world would’ve protected themselves first, then glanced back to make sure the rest of us were okay.

Inside the commissary, I ordered a club sandwich, fries, and a Coke.

Jason looked at me with wide eyes. “You eat? Something other than salad, I mean?”

“Yeah. I eat. And I kick down walls. And I wear pink. And ruffles too. And I apologize to people when I’m wrong.” I sighed. “I’m a changed woman.”

“I see. Well, don’t change too much. I might not recognize you.” He waggled his brows and laughter bubbled up inside me.

Off in the distance, one of the workers cleaned off a table. I nodded in that direction, and a couple minutes later we were seated together eating. It felt really good to be able to just be myself in front of a guy for a change.

Now that the opportunity had presented itself, I wanted to talk to Jason about something he’d said on Saturday. Hopefully I wouldn’t botch this. I tried to figure out how to begin.

“What’s up?” he asked after a couple minutes of silence. “You have something on your mind.”

“Am I that obvious?”

He nodded and took a bite of his burger. “Yep.”

“Okay.” A deep breath followed. “I wanted to respond to what you said last Saturday, about having walls up.”

“Ah.” He took a swig of his Coke. “Hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“No. Well, maybe a little, but you were right. I’ve always had walls up. I . . . I don’t really want people to know about my life outside the studio, so it’s been a protective measure, I guess.”

He stopped eating and leaned forward. “I want to know about your life, Tia. The things that bother you. The things that make you laugh. I want to know it all.” His words were soft and took me by surprise.

I managed a lame nod. Brilliant. “I can’t tell you the whole story over one short lunch, but there’s a lot about me that people just don’t know. Where I come from . . .” I shook my head. “Well, it’s been a tough life. And maybe it’s made me a little hard.”

“Tell me.” He took another bite and leaned back in his chair.

“You’ve met my sister, Benita. But you probably don’t know I have three brothers. There are five of us, and I’m the oldest.”

He gave me an admiring look. “I always wanted brothers and sisters.”

“Not these.” I paused long enough to repent for what I’d just said. “Anyway, I grew up in South Central.”

“Where exactly? I’m wondering if it’s close to the street church I’ve been working with.”

“Closer than you think, but that’s a story for later.”

“Okay.” He crossed his arms at his chest, his gaze penetrating.

“Anyway, I lived there until a few years ago. I grew up in a bungalow that was built in the twenties. One bathroom. Three bedrooms. My brothers had one room, my sister and I had another.”

“Man.”

“Yeah. And we’re talking small bedrooms too. Most of my life I slept on the floor on a twin mattress with my little sister curled up beside me.” The memories overtook me at this point. “My father was gone as much as he was home, so sometimes I slept in my mama’s room. She would cry a lot because she didn’t know where he was.”

Jason squirmed a bit in his chair, and I could tell he was sorry he’d brought up the subject. “I’m sorry, Tia. I had no idea.”

“You had no idea because I didn’t want anyone to know. I made good grades in school and managed to put myself through film school, and now here I am.”

“Wearing Kenneth Cole shoes and carrying a Prada handbag.”

I drew in a deep breath and thought through my next words. “You think I’m covering up something with all that?”

“No. That never occurred to me. Just an observation that you’ve got great taste. I never would have guessed you were from such a rough background.”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed of my upbringing.” The conversation with my mother washed over me afresh. “Well, some of it I’m ashamed of. Never knowing if my dad was coming or going. That part stunk. And watching my mama get her heart broken over and over again—that wasn’t much fun either. But I learned how to be tough in the projects. And determined. That’s where my backbone came from.”

“No doubt.” He gave me a curious look. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“I know you’re a Christian. It’s obvious. But how did you manage to hang on for the ride if your situation was that rough?”

“Ah.” So the moment had come. “Remember I told you earlier that the street church you’re working with is closer than you think?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t just mean physically close, though it is. They meet about four blocks from my house. But it’s close to me in other ways too.” I paused, trying to work up the courage to share. “See, I never really went to church as a little girl. My mother did for a while, but once my dad started coming and going, she gave it up. Then, when I was about eight, a group of people from a church starting coming down to our area on Saturday mornings to do street ministry for the kids. They called it Sidewalk Sunday School.”

“Oh, wow. They still call it that. It’s great.”

“I know. And it was great. I’m sure it still is. I met some kind and loving people, and they took the time to really pour into me. Not just to pound the gospel into me, mind you, but to really, genuinely care for me. They made sure we had Christmas presents every year and even bought me shoes on a few occasions.”

He sat up straight, eyes riveted on mine.

“When I got to my teens, I wandered a little bit, but they came looking for me. Before long, I was working alongside them, directing their dramas. It gave me a sense of purpose. And when the time came to graduate from school, I had no doubt what I wanted to do with my life: I was born to be a director. I never would’ve known it if they hadn’t given me a chance.”

“Tia, this is amazing.”

I nodded. “They saw something in me that I didn’t even see in myself. And they reached down and stirred up the gifts inside me. That’s why I do what I do. I don’t just direct these actors and actresses so that I can tell them what to do. I direct them so that I can stir up the gifts God has placed inside them. Sure, sometimes I’m hard on them. I want them to be their very best, not just so the show’s ratings stay up, but so they can be proud of their performance. So they can say they’ve done their very best, given their all.”

He gave me a curious look, one I couldn’t quite make out.

“Do you think I’ve been mean? Is that how I come across?”

“I’m not sure mean is the right word. I’ve heard people in the cast say . . .” His words drifted off. “It’s all a matter of perception, anyway.”

“I don’t want anyone to have a bad perception of me. It’s just so hard. I know the names they call me. But you have to understand. I grew up in a rough place. If you weren’t tough, you could get killed. I was surrounded on every side by gang activity and shootings. That’s my background. It’s a part of who I am, even though I keep going.”

“Wow.” He took a sip of his Coke, then set it back down on the table.

“We don’t have to talk about this if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Tia . . . ” He leaned forward and took my hand. “This is exactly what I want to talk about. I want to know you, even the hard things.”

Well, if that didn’t give a girl courage, nothing would.

He looked at me with a smile so sweet I thought I’d melt into a puddle right there in the commissary. His expression shifted, and suddenly I read concern in his eyes. “Tia, before you say anything else, I have to tell you something.”

“Oh?” My heart skipped to double time as I imagined what he might say.

“Until a couple of months ago, I was really hard on you. I don’t know why, I really don’t. Maybe because I’d already been here a couple of years before you took over as director. I had my own way of doing things and saw you as some sort of threat.”

I sighed. “I came in like a lion, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but that’s what directors do. They direct. They lead. I . . .” He offered a woeful shrug. “I saw you as a challenge to the way I’d always done things. But you made me think outside the box. I’m a better cameraman, thanks to you. In fact, I’m a better man, thanks to you.”

“Wow.” I hardly knew what to say.

He squeezed my hand. “I’m glad we’re getting to know each other. I had no idea of all you’ve been through.” He gave me the sweetest look. “If I’d known, I would have gone easier on you. And in case I don’t say it enough, I’m really proud of you, Tia. You’re an amazing woman.”

“Th-thank you.” I couldn’t think of the last time I’d heard a man tell me he was proud of me, so his words genuinely touched me.

Jason’s hand lingered in mine, and I was captivated by the tenderness pouring from his eyes. In that moment, I did the craziest thing. I released a giggle—a girlish, flirtatious giggle. Then, perhaps overcome by the sweetness of the conversation, I brushed a loose hair off my face—flirting à la Benita—and gazed into Jason’s eyes, allowing the pause to last an extra-long time.

As our eyes met and held, I felt that little spark—that tiny bit of magic that happens in musicals, where the leading man suddenly sweeps the leading lady into his arms and takes her for a choreographed spin around the dance floor. I could almost see us now—me in my ball gown and Jason in his tuxedo, waltzing across a beautiful outdoor set near a lake. Nah, maybe I’d better stick to indoor. A ballroom. A grand and glorious place with exquisite chandeliers and a large wooden dance floor, where we danced like the Hollywood greats from days gone by.

“Tia?” Jason’s voice startled me back to attention.

“Hmm?” My hazy dream came to an end. Fred and Ginger’s dance ended abruptly.

“I want you to know something.” A smile turned up the edges of his lips. “I really want you to know that—”

“What are you kids up to?”

I looked up to discover Lenora at our table. Her food tray trembled in her hand.

“Can I join you, or is this a private meeting?” Lenora’s gaze shifted to the table, and I realized Jason and I were still holding hands.

“Oh, well, we . . .”

“I’m all alone today.” The tray continued to tremble in her hands. “Rex had to stay in his office to work, but he told me to come and find someone to sit with.”

“Please, join us.” Jason released my hand, rose, and grabbed Lenora’s tray. She sat and dove into a lengthy discussion about the price of Salisbury steak as he put her plate in front of her.

Looked like I would have to wait until another day to see what Jason had on his mind. For now, Lenora totally consumed the conversation.

I dabbed my lips with a napkin and gave her a closer look. “Lenora, that dress is divine. Who are you today?”

“Claudette Colbert. It Happened One Night.” She took on a faraway look. “Did you ever see that one, honey?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh, get to the theater and see it as soon as you can. There’s something so magical about the interaction between Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert. They’re both breathtakingly beautiful to look at, but it’s not just that. They’re meant to be together. You can see it in their eyes.” She sighed. “I can always tell when people are supposed to be together.”

“You can?”

She flashed a girlish smile, then looked back and forth between us. “Well, sure. I knew KK and Jack were supposed to get married as soon as I met him.”

I decided not to correct her. If she wanted to call Scott by his stage name, so be it.

“And take you, for instance.” Lenora chuckled. “You’re such a funny little thing. Always acting so tough and all. But you’re going to marry a man with a heart of gold, someone who would give his shirt to help another.” Her gaze shifted to Jason, who, thank goodness, didn’t react.

“I am?”

“Well, sure, honey. You just wait and see. God will use him to rub off those hard edges. Before long, you’ll be smooth as a stone, inside and out.”

I sighed. Even Lenora thought I was rough and tough. But at least she saw my heart. I couldn’t say that about everyone.

Besides, the newer, softer me wouldn’t get offended anymore. I would handle things—all things, good and bad—with grace and ease.

“I see that you’re already wearing pink. That’s a start.” Lenora glanced at Jason. “Doesn’t she look lovely in pink?”

“Lovely is the right word.” He gave me a little wink and my heart fluttered.

Lenora took a bite of her Salisbury steak, then offered a contented sigh. “God’s in his heaven, all’s right with the world.”

Something quickened inside of me. “Oh, I know that one. Anne of Green Gables.”

“Yes, such a sweet little thing, Anne.” Lenora took a bite of her mashed potatoes. “I do hope our new baby grows up to be just like her—silly, sweet, and filled with spunk.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” Jason said. “She’s got the best parents in the world.”

Lenora smiled. “Oh, you’ll be so happy to know I called Ted Holliday, one of my favorite reporters, to tell him all about the baby. He was so happy to get the news.”

This certainly got my attention. She’d been talking to reporters? I wondered if Rex knew.

“You mean the real baby, right?” I asked, choosing my words carefully.

“Well, of course. The one KK had in the elevator. I told Ted all about it. He was tickled pink.” She giggled. “Or would that be blue?” A look of confusion registered in her eyes. “She did have a baby boy, right?”

“You mean the real baby, or the one on the show?” Jason asked.

“Show?” Lenora shook her head. “I’m talking about KK’s new baby. I was sure she had a boy. But then I saw the baby in her arms, and I could’ve sworn it was a girl.” She sighed. “Oh, but it’s the prettiest little baby in the world. Reminds me of my little one all those years ago.” She went off on a tangent, but she’d lost me.

“Lenora, what did you say the reporter’s name was again?” I asked.

“Ted Holliday, honey.” Her eyes sparkled. “Oh, I could always count on Ted to cover a story with flair. You should have seen the write-up he did when I starred in It Had to Be You back in ’57.”

A reporter who worked for The Scoop back in ’57 was still there today? I couldn’t imagine it.

“So, you told Mr. Holliday about the baby.” Jason looked her way and then glanced at me.

She nodded.

“Did you happen to mention the baby’s name?” he asked.

Confusion registered in her eyes again. “Oh dear. Now I’ve done it.”

“Done what?” My heart began to race.

“I . . .” Tears rose to cover her lashes. “I can’t remember the baby’s name,” she whispered. “Isn’t that awful?”

I patted her on the arm, doing my best to comfort her. “I forget names all the time, Lenora. Don’t worry about it.”

Her expression brightened. “Anyway, we have a new baby. And I remember now! She’s named Anne with an e just like the little girl from Anne of Green Gables. I think that’s what we were talking about, wasn’t it? Or was it Little Ricky? I can’t remember now. Oh, yes, I told that reporter the baby’s name was Little Ricky.” She flashed a contented smile. “I’ve always loved that name. Reminds me of I Love Lucy. Didn’t Lucille Ball have the prettiest red hair?” She leaned in close and whispered, “Though I can assure you, it was Lady Clairol, not Mother Nature.” A giggle followed, and she took another bite of her steak.

I didn’t have the heart to tell Lenora that her granddaughter’s name was Katherine. And I certainly couldn’t tell her that she’d committed a grave error by going to a tabloid with news about the baby boy. It would probably also break her heart to know that Ted Holliday had likely passed away years ago. She had clearly talked with someone else at The Scoop, not him.

Jason gave me a knowing look, and I knew we were on the same page. My sister hadn’t tipped off the media. Lenora had. And though she’d created all sorts of trouble for the show, none of us could tell her. Or blame her. Or hold it against her.

Still, I had to tell Rex. He needed to know . . . and the sooner, the better.