“I don't want your phone number,” she said quickly. “I don't want to call when you're working and interrupt the flow of creativity.” She laughed to keep it light. “You call me when you want.”

That seemed to relax Bobby again. “Thank you,” he said as he carefully folded the creamy sheet of vellum. He stuck it in the back of his wallet. “If it's here, I won't lose it.” Then he kissed her in a way that made up for a lot. “Thank you in advance for not making me feel guilty about going into hibernation,” he whispered in her ear. Rose told herself again that she wasn't disappointed.

She wasn't disappointed at all that the coffee-after-skating meetings had come to an end. Now Bobby would call her when he wanted to see her and there would be no question that they were dating. And maybe—although she would never ask him to—he would share his work with her. She let herself daydream about Bobby asking her to read the scenes he was writing. Maybe he'd ask for her opinion—the idea for the musical had been hers, after all. And he'd finally invite her to his apartment. She wasn't sure why that was so important; she just knew it was. Of course, when she was in his apartment she would have to see to it that nothing happened between them—nothing more than kissing, no matter how tempted she was. She knew she was hopelessly old-fashioned, but the sexual revolution that was going on around her was not for her. Nonna and the nuns had trained her too well. And even though Bobby had played around, she knew that when he was ready to settle down he was going to want an old-fashioned girl. Like her.

But in the meantime, she thought she'd be spending at least some time with Bobby when she wasn't keeping her mother busy with house hunting and decorating and when he wasn't writing. She knew it would be less time than she wanted, but that was to be expected. What she hadn't expected him to do was disappear. She never dreamed that he wouldn't call her at all.

For the first week, she told herself that he was adjusting to his new work schedule. Then she told herself that he was having a hard time getting started on the show—writing was always toughest in the beginning, she'd heard. She worked to keep words like selfish and ungrateful from coming into her head. She did that for ten long, frustrating days.

“Are you still seeing Bobby Manning?” Lu asked her one morning as the driver settled them in the backseat of the car. They were going to look at some property in Dutchess County. It was a long distance from the city, but the real estate agent said the area was very secluded and Miss Lawson would find it peaceful and quiet.

“Are you seeing Bobby?” her mother repeated.