“I was hoping you would!”

On a watery laugh of her own, Lily pulled her in.

Cate reached for Hugh, made it a trio.

“And now, I have to squeal.”

She did, added bounces, cried a little more.

And was home.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

She hadn’t taken any work, had kept her calendar open for two weeks, calculating the time to settle in, to set up a home studio, check out the studios in Monterey and Carmel.

Now she opened that up by a week, let her agent know she’d be ready for offers. She still wanted the week to just be, to spend real time with her grandparents. To bake that soda bread.

They had a welcome-home dinner, a movie night. She worked out in the gym with her grandfather, who complained about it, but continued to work on strengthening his injured leg.

She worked out because he complained, and he couldn’t shrug off the exercises under her eagle eye.

She walked the beach or just sat on the rocks.

Because it pleased them, she picked tomatoes or peppers, harvested herbs or whatever came to mind to take to the main kitchen for Consuela.

She read over some offers, considered, and decided to take them all. After all, why not? It’s what she did.

One, a voice-over for a book ad, needed a quick turnaround, so she started her setup while her bread baked in the kitchen.

Since the client wanted warm, she chose a dynamic mic, used a pop shield, a shock mount to cut any rumblings. A fifteen-second spot still required all the tools. She mounted her mic, adjusted the angle. Satisfied, she checked her software, her monitors. Set up a second stand for the script.

After rolling down the shades, putting the RECORDING IN PROGRESS sign on the door, locking it just in case, she put on her headphones. Did the first run-through and playback.

Nearly a full second over. She could fix that.

But wow, the sound? Great. She couldn’t have done a better job setting up the studio herself.

She ran through it again, nodded.

Warm, she thought, inviting. You know you want to read me.

She did four takes, punching different words, phrases. Ditched one because she’d gone more sexy than warm.

After two more, she listened to each, and chose what she considered the best three. She labeled them, sent the audio files to the client.

If they wanted a different tone, she’d go back and do it again, but she’d given them warm, female, inviting. And considered her debut in her new studio a success.

Once her bread cooled on the rack, she grabbed a jacket, walked outside.

The breeze, a frisky one, carried the roses and rosemary, the sea and the salt. She wandered back toward where a little vineyard—another new addition—climbed the terraced steps in the cliff, where more roses smothered an arbor with pale peach blossoms and subtle scent as the leaves waved and whispered in the breeze.

Her grandfather sat in the sun. He wore a wide-brimmed hat to protect him against the rays. A mug, coffee no doubt, as no one could convince him to give it up, sat on the steel table beside him.

He had a script in his hands, and his reading glasses on.

“Retired, my butt.”

He looked up, nudged the glasses down to peer at her over them. “Semi. I’m just giving it a read. It’s not green-lit yet. It should be.” But he set it aside. “Want coffee?”

“No, I’m good. God, what a gorgeous day. I hardly ever got up here in the fall. It’s just glorious.” She tipped back her head, closed her eyes, just breathed.

“If Lily sees you out here without a hat, she’ll scold you. Take my word.”

“I’ll remember one next time.”

“Big brim,” he said, tapping his own.

“I only have ball caps.”

“Get one. Trust me.”

“Next time I’m out and about then. I did my first voice-over this morning. The studio rocks, Grandpa. It seriously rocks. I’m going to start rehearsing an audiobook read later today. I’ve read two of this author’s books before, so I know her style, her voice when it comes to narration. I need to get a handle on the characters. It’ll be fun.”

She opened her eyes, reached out to tap the script.

“Who are you?”

“The freewheeling, slightly crazy grandfather trying to convince his straight-arrow grandson to cut loose. They’re on a cross-country trip—Boston to Santa Barbara—because the old man won’t fly. The daughter—the grandson’s mother—is working on having the old man deemed nuts, and put in a nursing home. He ain’t going without a fight.”

“I don’t like her.”

“She’s a former flower child who’s converted to suburban matron. She believes she’s doing the sensible thing. It’s a romp, so far. Well done.”

She tapped her finger at him. “I hear you, Sullivan. You’re going to make sure it’s green-lit.”

“I may twist an arm or two. But I’ll finish it first.”

He turned his head, grinned when a couple of happy barks hit the air.

“When did you get a dog?” Cate asked.

“Not yet, but I’m thinking about it.” He clapped his hands, gave a whistle from between his teeth. A pair of black-and-white dogs, with a few spots of brown for good measure, raced straight to Hugh, wiggled until he rubbed both of them.

“They—they can’t be Dillon’s dogs.”

“They are. Not Gambit and Jubilee. They slipped away last fall. Meet Stark and Natasha.”

They shifted attention to Cate, sniffing, rubbing, staring at her with soul-filled eyes. “Iron Man and Black Widow?” Laughing, she rubbed. “Sticking with the Marvel Universe.”

“What can I say?” Dillon walked up the stone path. “I’m a fan. I brought you a basket of those fingerlings you like, Hugh.”

“Hot dog—and I don’t mean you two. Sit down, boy. I’ll call in for coffee.”

“Wish I could, but I’m on my way to the co-op with produce.” But he pulled off his sunglasses, smiled at Cate. “I heard you were back. It’s good to see you.”

“You, too. You really can’t stay for a few minutes?”

“With Hugh, I sit down for a minute and the next thing I know it’s been an hour. Next time.”

As he snapped his fingers for the dogs, Cate rose. “I promise I won’t keep you an hour if you’d walk back down with me. I have something for you—your mom and grandmother.”

“Sure. You’re in the guesthouse, right? Well, I guess it’s Cate’s house now. I’ll take that hour, Hugh, first chance.”

“See you do.”

“I guess you know,” Dillon said as he walked with Cate, “you made Hugh and Lily about the happiest people on the planet when you said you were coming back to stay.”

“It turns out it’s making me pretty happy, too.”

“Don’t miss New York?”

“It’s there whenever I need an East Coast fix. It was good for me. Now this is good for me. Tell your mom, and Gram, I’m going to come see them. I wanted to keep a close eye on Grandpa for the first few days.”

“He needs one.”

“I got that.” She opened the door. The dogs rushed in, began their obligatory sniffing.