Grace nodded. “Sounds like they’re doing well. Are they all in Los Angeles?”

“Yeah.” I knew I sounded wistful, but there were moments when I missed having them around. The twins in particular felt as much like my children as my brothers at times.

“And has there been anyone special for you?”

My mouth dropped open. “Grace Smith, are you asking about my love life?”

She pinned me with a look. “You can’t blame me. It’s all anyone is talking about now that you’re back in town, and I never read about you in the tabloids or online because it felt like such an invasion of privacy.”

Yeah, I’d assumed the gossip would be running wild. “I appreciate that, but no, there’s been nobody special.”

Her expression turned skeptical. “So, what? You’ve been pining away for Liam all these years while starring opposite some of the sexiest men alive in films?”

Kinda.

But when she put it like that, I knew it sounded unbelievable.

“That… situation… I mentioned. It changed my policy on dating.”

She was quiet for a few seconds as she ate. “You’re being awfully cagey.”

I swigged more wine than was wise and wiped the back of my mouth on my hand. “Look, Grace.” I waited until I had her full attention. “I know a lot of my life is out there for anyone to read about, but I took a stage name for a reason, and that was to keep as much distance as possible between my personal and public lives. There are certain parts of my private life that I like to keep under wraps, and despite everything, I’ve managed to be reasonably successful at that. If you don’t know everything already, then I’d rather it stay that way until Liam hears the details—presuming he hasn’t already.” I’d like to think he’d at least speak to me if he knew about my parents’ deaths. “So if I’m being cagey, it’s because of that.”

“Okay.” Her intense eyes seemed to see into my soul. Sometimes, I could swear she had a little of Desdemona’s psychic gift. “I respect that.”

“Thank you.”

We finished our meal with polite chitchat about where I’d been and who I’d seen since I arrived. Neither of us seemed to want to delve into deeper topics. When we finished, I carried our dishes to the kitchen despite Grace’s protests.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You cooked, so the least I can do is clean,” I told her.

“You’re my guest,” she said, as though that explained everything.

“Exactly. You gave me a place to stay, and don’t think I don’t know how poorly that must have gone down with the Braddocks.” It meant a lot that she’d gone out on a limb for me, whatever the reason.