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like you have much time for a social life.”
    â€œI do,” she assured him. It wasn’t exactly a lie. If hobnobbing with the rich and powerful at glitzy yacht parties didn’t qualify as having a social life, what did?
    Her grandfather looked skeptical. “Visiting your crippled grandpa in a nursing home every week doesn’t count.”
    Lena gave him a reproving look. “Stop calling yourself crippled. And aren’t I always telling you about new restaurants and museums I’ve visited?”
    â€œAlone,” he pointed out.
    She shrugged. “I like my own company.”
    â€œYou’re wonderful company,” her grandfather agreed. “You know I always look forward to spending time with you. I just worry that you’re not getting out there enough, meeting other young folks like yourself. Your sister’s always talking about the new man in her life.” He peered at Lena over the rim of his bifocals. “When was the last time you went on a date?”
    She choked out a laugh. “Poppa!”
    â€œWhat? It’s a fair question.”
    She smiled ruefully. “No offense, Poppa, but I don’t exactly feel comfortable discussing my, uh, love life with you.”
    Truthfully, there wasn’t much to discuss. Her love life was nonexistent because she hadn’t figured out a way to balance being a professional escort and somebody’s girlfriend. She knew that very few men would understand or accept her decision to work as an escort, and giving it up wasn’t an option for her as her grandfather’s sole support. Nor was she willing to keep her side gig a secret from any man she was dating. She had friends who sneaked around behind their boyfriends’ backs and lied to them all the time. She didn’t want that kind of relationship, and judging by her girlfriends’ constant complaints, she wasn’t missing much by remaining single. But a girl had needs, so for the past three years she’d enjoyed brief but satisfying flings with guys who were as commitment-phobic as she was.
    But after one night with Roderick Brand, she realized how sexually deprived she’d been.
    â€œI just want to make sure that your job doesn’t become your life,” her grandfather was saying.
    Incredulous, Lena shook her head at him. “I can’tbelieve I’m hearing this from the man who devoted fifty years of his life to the Los Angeles Metropolitan Transit Authority, working tirelessly to support his family and put three dependents—me, Morgan and our mother—through college. You’re going to lecture me about working too hard?”
    â€œIt’s not the same thing,” Cleveland grumbled. “You’re too young and beautiful to be a workaholic, Lena.”
    â€œI’m not a workaholic. Believe me, I have a life outside of the college.” If only you knew!
    Her grandfather studied her in shrewd silence a moment longer, then grunted. “As long as you’re happy—”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œThen that’s the most important thing.” He hesitated, looking as though he wanted to say more.
    Lena waited.
    â€œYou know I always worry about how you can afford to put me up in this Shangri-la. I know it ain’t cheap—”
    She frowned. “Poppa—”
    He held up a hand, forestalling her protest. “All I was going to say is that maybe a promotion’s not such a bad thing. You know, if it makes it easier for you to…take care of me.”
    A lump rose in Lena’s throat. He was thanking her without actually saying the words, because she’d rebuffed him every time he’d tried to express his gratitude in the past.
    Smiling tenderly, she said, “When I get the promotion, Poppa, I’m taking you to dinner and a show to celebrate.”
    He winked at her. “It’s a date.” His gaze strayed toher slice of cake, which she’d barely touched.