“Count on it, Jenny. I’m not going anywhere. Now, tell me about your great day in the office.”

Okay, he was trying. “Lots of training with more to come. All part of growing

my career.”

“So what do you actually do?”

She paused, wondered if he’d get it. “Simply put, I help clients plan for their financial future. You know—the usual. Investment guidance, retirement planning, income strategies, wealth management and even college planning. I’ve got my Series 7 and 63 as well as my insurance licenses. I love doing this.”

A low whistle came through the line. “All that from the girl who computed the family budget and told her big sister how much to spend?”

“Lisa couldn’t even balance a checkbook back then. I figured it out at sixteen.

And why do you remember that little factoid?”

“Henny-Penny, there isn’t anything about you that I don’t remember.”

Her breath caught. “Sounds scary.”

“Nope. Sounds like I’m getting your attention.”

Time to change the subject. “And how was your day?”

“Want the good news first, or the bad news?”

“Bad news? Already? You just started. I swear, a career like yours would give me hives.”

“And the stock market doesn’t go up and down?”

“We plan for that. We plan for all the contingencies.”

His quiet laughter came through the phone. “What a big word! Contingencies.

Sounds to me that it’s more about control. Sweetheart, no matter how hard you work, you can’t control the world.”

“But I sure as shootin’ can control my world.”

##

It was the way she said it, so seriously, as if she truly had total power, that

amused him as he said goodnight. Her tender spot. Her world had exploded years ago but would never do so again—if Jen had anything to say about it.

When his phone rang, he saw Jen’s name and answered quickly.

“Anything wrong?”

“We talked about my job, but you didn’t tell me about your day.”

A soft and sexy voice. No wonder she was a natural jazz singer.

“You’re right. So…”

“Good news first,” she interrupted. “Let me enjoy it before problems rear their nasty heads.”

“Not your problems to solve, kiddo. I’ve got this.”

Silence met his ear. “Jen? Still there?”

“Y-e-s.” She sounded unsure.

“What?”

“Just thinking. You’re right. I don’t have to solve your problems. You’re an adult now, too. With one show on Broadway, and one off-Broadway, you must be earning a living. So, tell me the good news.”

“The producer and director for The Sanctuary love the script, which means they’ll go to hell and back to do it right. Tomorrow, we’re holding our first auditions for the main characters. It’s an exciting time. And I’m betting on Boston not to let me down.” She’d never understand the chance he was taking by leaving New York.

“It won’t. Just like when The Broken Circle was put on in school. It was— was like magic. You almost cried.”

“You were supposed to forget about that!”

“Nah. I could see you were overwhelmed. Awestruck to see your printed words brought to life.” She paused, and he waited. “Doug?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it still like that? Still awesome?”

“Every. Single. Time.”

She spoke softly then. So softly, he strained to hear her. “Then I guess you made the right choice five years ago…and for the right reasons.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“And so did I,” she whispered.

Chapter 5

It was hard to put Doug out of her mind, to pretend he wasn’t back in town. That idea was totally unrealistic now. After a restless night, however, Jen went to work the next day determined to keep a friendly distance. Doug could be one of her guy friends. Like Evan or Matt. She and Doug had both found what they’d been seeking. They’d put their educations to good use. He loved his work, she loved hers. Correct choices. Case closed. The past was in the past.

Within five minutes at work, she was fully engrossed—personal appointments, customer calls, and her own seminar that afternoon. At quitting time, she grabbed her purse and realized she’d gotten through the day without thinking about Doug too much, if she didn’t count every in-between moment. He was someone she used to know…as the song said.

Her cell rang at ten o’clock that evening.

“How was your day?” came the familiar voice.

“Busy. As is the rest of my week.”

“Ouch. Sending me a message?”