Tyler looked down and saw Greg flashing through the pictures of Sabrina.

“They look great.” And he meant it. Greg hadn’t lost touch of his artistic side since becoming a producer. He knew how to frame a shot for maximum impact.

Tyler had no idea why Greg no longer directed. Damn shame that he didn’t, because the guy had a gift. Especially in the close-up shots. Sabrina looked—

Ah.

Tyler looked up at Greg, who stared straight back, as if daring Tyler to say something.

Tyler knew now wasn’t the time. But later . . .

“Thanks for doing this for Kate. I know she appreciates it.”

Greg nodded, knowing Tyler had given him a break. “Have you told her how you feel about her yet?”

A break Greg apparently didn’t intend to offer Tyler.

“I don’t want to influence her decision.”

Greg’s gaze narrowed. “But you don’t want her to go, do you?”

He was saved from answering the question by the girls’ return. Sabrina had changed back into her jeans and T-shirt while Kate wore one of the more demure role-playing costumes she’d brought.

But not demure enough for him not to get aroused just by looking at her.

The top of the outfit was made from strings of fake pearls, draping down to cover all the right places but with just enough movement to suggest that if she moved the right way, she’d expose a breast. The bottom was a tiny, purple satin skirt that barely covered her ass and was encrusted with tiny pearls in a wave pattern.

Christ.

“Wow, Kate.” Greg gave a short whistle. “That’s a stunner, babe.”

Kate rolled her eyes at him but smiled at the compliment. “Thanks. The top gave me fits trying to get the pearls to drape right.”

Greg’s wolfish smile made it perfectly clear he appreciated the look. “Then let’s get started. Hey, Sabrina. Nice to meet you.”

The last had been thrown over Greg’s shoulder as he moved Kate into position against the wall.

Sabrina opened her mouth to say something but must have realized Greg had tuned her out.

Instead, she turned to Tyler and gave him a smile that held half her normal wattage before saying good-bye and practically running for the door.

Amazing, really, how attraction could cut you off at the knees that fast.

At Sabrina’s age, she’d brush it off in a few days.

In Tyler’s case . . .

Hell. He wouldn’t be brushing it off anytime soon. Because his feelings had gone further than simple attraction.

But that still didn’t give him the right to interfere in Kate’s dreams.

* * *

With a groan, Kate unkinked herself from the driver’s seat of her car and stretched.

Her eyes felt gritty and she kept yawning, although she didn’t feel that tired.

She’d been drained after the photo shoot last night and had fallen asleep only minutes after Greg and Tyler had left. She didn’t even have time to pout over the fact that Tyler hadn’t stayed. She hadn’t woken up this morning until her alarm had gone off at five a.m. Ugh.

Then, of course, traffic had been miserable. There was a reason most people around here took the bus from Reading on weekdays.

The upside to the drive was that she’d had plenty of time to think.

Which was why she hadn’t gone directly home.

Looking at the front door to her parents’ house, she sighed. She needed to make the right decision and her dad had always been the person to tell her the unvarnished truth, no matter if she wanted to hear it or not.

Later, she’d talk to Annabelle, who always saw the upside of everything.

But first, she needed her dad to lay it on the line for her.

She knocked to announce her presence then opened the door and stepped into her childhood.

The white brick ranch house on the outskirts of town had been built in the ’70s and the exterior showed it. Inside, the décor was stuck in the ’90s. Her mom had never gotten around to redecorating before her death.

And her dad never changed a thing.

“Hey, Dad,” she called out. “It’s me. Where are you?”

“In the kitchen. I was expecting you earlier.”

Damn, she should’ve called on her way home. “Sorry. Traffic was heavier than normal.”

Walking into the kitchen, she took a deep breath and her stomach growled when the mouthwatering smell of her dad’s spaghetti sauce hit her.

Her dad turned away from the stove long enough to give her the once-over. “I understand. Sit. I’ll get you a plate.”

She did as she was told, watching her dad dish her a huge portion of spaghetti and meatballs. “Daddy, I can’t eat all this. I’ll explode.”

He gave her a stern look that made her feel five years old again. “You’re skin and bones. Eat. Then tell me why you look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

Her first-generation Korean American father had guilt trips up his sleeve for every occasion. She’d never doubted his love for her, but Tiger Moms had nothing on her dad.

What he and her mom had ever seen in each other that made them decide to marry was a total mystery.

Teddy Song was stoic, demanding, occasionally judgmental, and set in his ways. He expected a lot from the people around him and even more from himself. His position as the chief financial officer for the state-run geriatric home gave him the chance to combine politics and money and he loved it. Loved the challenge.

He couldn’t understand why she was content working for a dry cleaner while her hard-earned degree went to waste. He’d expected her to “make something of herself.” And that hadn’t included tying herself to Arnie, a man who drove a delivery truck and working for a dry cleaning business.

After he’d poured them each a glass of wine, he sat across from her and waited.

She took a deep breath. “I’ve had a job offer. For an assistant costume designer.”

He nodded, as if those came along every day. “That sounds promising.”

“It’s in New York City at an off-Broadway theater. They expect the show to do well enough to move to a Broadway venue when a stage opens up. The company’s financially stable. It has a good reputation and I actually like the people. I’d be working under one of my professors from college.”

“It sounds like a great opportunity. So why are you hesitant to take it?”

Trust her dad to get right to the point. Which is exactly why she came to him.

“I’ve met a man—”

“The man who’s stayed at your house recently? Is he the same man you go to Philadelphia to visit?”

Well, hell. She should have known he’d hear. Her father didn’t seek out gossip, but he did stop at Tracy’s every morning to get his coffee. Someone down there must have filled him in.

Now she felt like a guilty teenager. But that didn’t mean she had to show it.

Looking her dad straight in his eyes, the identical shape and color of hers, she said, “Yes, it’s the same man.”

“And he treats you well?”

Okay, that wasn’t what she’d expected him to ask and it threw her off track. “Yes. He treats me very well.”

“Do you love him?”

She blushed, a fiery heat consuming her cheeks. But the answer was easy. “Yes.”

Her dad didn’t bat an eyelash. “So you’re going to throw away this opportunity because you’re afraid this man doesn’t want you to take the job. Has he told you not to take it?”

She wanted to leap to Tyler’s defense, but that would have been an irrational answer to a straightforward question. Her father might read something into her response that wasn’t true. “No, not at all. He’s encouraging me to take it.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong was that he was encouraging her to take it. Hell, he was practically putting a foot on her ass and shoving her out the door.

Okay, maybe that was a little overdramatic but still . . . Tyler wanted her to take the job.

And she wasn’t sure if she didn’t want the job because she knew it would take her away from him or because her goals had changed.

Shaking her head, she sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“And what is it you’re unsure about?”

She almost rolled her eyes but caught herself in time. “If I knew that, Dad, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest. “And why are we having this conversation exactly?”

Suddenly, she knew exactly why she was here. “Why didn’t Mom become a photojournalist like she wanted to?”

Her dad nodded as if he’d expected her to ask the question all along. “The simple answer is because she didn’t want to leave you behind for long stretches of time. And because she thought I didn’t want her to go.”

“Did you?”

He shrugged, such an odd movement coming from him. “I wanted her to be happy. I knew she wasn’t, although she was a natural teacher.”

“Really?” She’d never known that about her mom.

“Oh, yes. And she enjoyed it too. It just wasn’t enough for her. When you started high school, she began to apply for jobs at the bigger newspapers. She had several interviews but . . .” He paused, then sighed. “The market fell apart. Newspapers were folding left and right and if they weren’t closing, they certainly weren’t hiring. Most were cutting staff to save money.”

“So she missed her opportunity.”

“Yes. And I couldn’t do anything to help her.”

And here was her opportunity, practically knocking her over.

“I’ve also had an offer to open a boutique. In the spa retreat they’re building only a few miles outside of town.”

“I’ve heard about that. Seems like a risky venture, with the economy the way it is.”