The doors swooshed open, and people piled out, people piled on. “How about we hit the park?” He tugged her toward seats. “We can do the stroll-in-the-sun thing, grab a couple street dogs.”

And keep his mind off tomorrow night. Opening night.

“I like the sound of that. I can drop the backpack off at the condo, change into stroll-in-the-sun shoes.”

He looked down at his own beat-to-shit Nikes. “I could use some new shoes.”

“We can add shopping to the stroll.”

He shifted his gaze over. “How many shoes have you got?”

“Irrelevant,” she said primly—so primly he grinned and kissed her.

They talked about potential shoes, strolls, maybe hooking up with some friends, maybe just going back to his place, since at least one of his roommates had an afternoon audition, and he thought the other one had a shift at his day job.

Living life, she thought. No ugly calls, no pushy press would stop her.

“We combine,” she decided as they walked from the elevator to the condo. “Your place first, especially if it’s empty, because that just never happens. Then the stroll, shoes to follow so we’re not schlepping bags.”

“Maybe.” He slid his hand down her hair as she got out her key. “Or maybe we’ll never get out of my place.”

“You would think that.”

Laughing, a little starry-eyed, they walked in.

“And here she is!”

Hugh stepped in from the terrace, absolute delight on his face as he opened his arms.

“Grandpa. You were supposed to come tomorrow.”

She dropped her backpack on the floor, hurried forward for the hug.

“We decided to surprise you and Lily, and maybe catch you with some dancing boys.” He gave her a kiss on both cheeks, looked over at Noah. “And we did! The juggler with the very talented feet.”

“Yes, sir, thank you. Noah Tanaka.” He shook Hugh’s hand. “I can get more dancing boys on a couple minutes’ notice.”

Hugh let out a laugh, slapped him on the back.

“It’s fine, Lily. I’ll be fine.”

Cate’s head swiveled at the voice. “Dad.”

She bolted to him, squeezed as tight as she was squeezed when he lifted her off her feet.

“Let me look at you. Pictures and Skype aren’t the same.” He drew her back.

However skillfully he masked it, she knew him too well and saw the worry.

“I’m fine, Dad. More than.”

“I can see that. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too. We were all set for tomorrow. Having a late lunch, a fancy one, here before Lily had to go to the theater. Then we’d walk over and slip in the stage door.”

“We’ll do that, too. Dad and I decided we’d take more time, surprise you.”

Lily looked straight at Cate. “Surprise. Aidan, this is Noah, he’s in the chorus.”

“He’s not going to stay there,” Hugh commented. “Boy’s got presence.”

“It’s great meeting you, Mr. Sullivan. Both of you.”

“Nice meeting you. Is this your first time on Broadway?”

“Actually, my third. I only put one in the Playbill because the other shut down after ten days. But . . . I should . . . take off.”

“We’re taking our two best girls to lunch,” Hugh put in. “Why don’t you join us?”

“Oh, well, thanks, but—”

Shit, Cate thought, shit. Take the next step.

“Lunch sounds great.” Reaching out, she took Noah’s hand. “Noah and I, we’re together.”

She saw surprise flicker over her father’s face, and maybe a little distress. “I’m going to take a minute. New territory for me. ‘Together’ means . . .”

“Dad, I’m eighteen.”

“Right. That happened. Well, it seems lunch is now required. I need to spend time grilling Noah.” He made a warning sound, pointed at Cate when she opened her mouth to object. “My job. I’m just figuring out how to do this part of it. Lily, you said your place for lunch is only a few blocks away.”

“That’s right. A very pleasant walk.”

Aidan gave Noah a wide, toothy smile. “For some of us.”

Later, when she walked with Noah to the corner—in the opposite direction of her family—she covered her face with her hands.

“I’m so sorry!”

“No, it’s cool. It’s weird, but it’s cool. Maybe a little scary at first. No, a lot.”

He swiped a hand over his forehead as if swiping off sweat.

“So you know how he said he had to figure this part out? Well, he’s a fast study, your old man. He practically twisted my life story out of me before we got to the restaurant. And he’s all ‘What’s next for you?’ and I’m, like, ‘Ah, ah, I want to move up to principal dancer, and speaking roles and, okay, I want to headline. I’ll work for it, but I want to headline.’ ”

“You will.”

“I’m going to work for it. Anyway, he made damn sure I knew he’d come like the wrath of all the gods on anybody who hurt his daughter.”

As she had no problem hearing her father say just that, she clutched Noah’s arm, clung to it. “They’re protective.”

“It’s okay, I get it, and I said how I don’t hurt people, especially people I care about. I think he liked that. I think he almost liked me by the time we finished lunch.”

“You did great.” She kissed him to prove it. “And I’m sorry I can’t go back to your place.”

“No, that would be weird, too, now. And, you know, disrespectful. Besides, I think I’m going to need a little recovery time after the grilling.”

“You can take some comfort knowing I’m in for it next.” She glanced back. “Might as well get it over with.”

“Text me later?”

“Count on it. I’ll see you tomorrow, backstage, and then I’ll be front row center when the curtain comes up.”

When she walked into the condo, she saw immediately her grandparents had cleared the field. Her father sat, solo, on the terrace.

She went out, sat in the chair beside his. Waited.

“I love you, Caitlyn.”

“I know, Dad. I know. I love you.”

“There’s a part of me that’s always going to look at you and see my little girl. That’s how it is, that’s the deal. And you know the reasons I feel the need to protect you.”

“I do. I need you to know I’m getting good at protecting myself.”

“That doesn’t change my need. I’m not going to pretend those calls don’t worry me, or to accept I can’t just wrap you up and keep you safe.”

“I know I didn’t handle it well, but I will if it ever happens again. Not just because I gave you and G-Lil and Grandpa my word, but because I’m not going to let some faceless asshole scare me stupid again.

“New York’s been good for me,” she continued. “It’s given me some distance—not from you, from everything else. I panicked because I thought it was Noah, and I was half-asleep.”

“The first one came when you were alone and sleeping.”