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behind her working all these diverse jobs.
    “It takes a lot of gigs to stitch together a living,” she told him honestly. “Unless you’re a world-class musician who can pretty much write your own ticket, you have to scramble to find work anywhere you can. And I really do love show music,” she confided. “As a matter of fact, I’m playing at the Bedford Theater this weekend. They’re doing Fiddler on the Roof. It’s their final weekend,” she informed him. “I can leave you a ticket at the box office for this Sunday if you’d like to come.”
    He didn’t want to inconvenience her, or ask for special treatment. “You don’t have to do that,” he protested.
    She laughed at his protest. “Are you kidding? The more bodies, the better. It’s a known fact. Musicians always play better to a packed house,” she said with a wink.
    He found the wink incredibly appealing, not to mention sexy. Without realizing it, he glanced down at her hand to see if there was a promise ring, or an engagement ring or, worse yet, a wedding ring on the appropriate finger. When he saw that there wasn’t—and there was no telltale pale line there to indicate a recent removal of said ring—he smiled broadly at her.
    “Then I’ll definitely make it a point to catch the show,” he promised. “Thanks for the ticket.”
    “Hey, my pleasure,” she responded with sincerity before suddenly realizing that she hadn’t been paying the strictest attention while they were walking. They were practically on top of her car and she hadn’t noticed. A few more steps and they would have overshot it. If she had, she was certain he would have thought he was hiring an idiot to play for his parents’ big day.
    “We’re here,” she announced belatedly, gesturing toward her vehicle.
    Jared stopped walking and looked around, scanning the area. This really was the end of the lot, he thought. For the most part, it was almost empty. Except for what looked like an old T-bird, the initial model, which had been all but pocket-size when it came out.
    “Is that your car?” he asked incredulously.
    She couldn’t even begin to guess what was going through the man’s head, except that she was certain that at least a part of him was undoubtedly thinking that a car like that was wasted on a woman.
    “That’s my car,” she said proudly.
    He knew that the car was regarded as vintage, but all that meant to him was that it was old. “Let me guess,” he mused, peering at the vehicle from several different angles. He gave no clue as to what he was looking for. “That belonged to your mother, too, right?”
    She supposed that her beloved car did look old enough to be considered a hand-me-down from one generation to the next.
    “No,” she told him. “That’s the first thing I bought with my earnings as a violinist. I saved up for six months for it,” she said, remembering.
    He heard the affection in her voice. Obviously Elizabeth saw something in the vehicle that he didn’t, Jared thought. He tended to like new things rather than things that had weathered the passage of time. Those needed coddling and he didn’t consider himself the type to do that. Everything in his life was kept on the light, uninvolved side, as per his plan.
    “And it still runs?” he asked, surprised.
    She grinned. “Most of the time,” she allowed. There was no point in dwelling on the times that it hadn’t. That was behind her now. “She does get temperamental every now and then,” she added fondly, “but I can’t stay mad at her. Lola always comes through in a pinch.”
    “Lola?”
    “That’s what I call my car. What do you call your car?” she wanted to know.
    “Reliable,” he answered, then commented on the logistics that were complicating her life. “Sounds like you were describing a grumpy old uncle a minute ago and not a car.”
    “It’s a little bit of both,” she confessed. “But nothing I can’t handle, although I have to admit that the parts for