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Her eyes darted to the sidewalk and her fingers tugged the closure on her cross-body purse. Zip zip zip! Back and forth. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it like that single word had said way too much and she wanted to reel it back in. “So, you hungry? Where you wanna go?”

“Anywhere we can have a drink and a chinwag.”

“Okay! Let’s go…this way.” She swiveled to the right, leading Ben towards Second Avenue.

“How was uni today?” asked Ben.

“Good. Lots going on with graduation next month, but that’s boring. Tell me about your job! Piper said you’re singing on Broadway! Oh my God, BEN!” She squeezed his arm.

He smiled at her hand on his upper arm, his eyes hopping to hers. “Actually, Piper got it wrong. It’s a singing waiter job ON Broadway. We serve food and perform musical numbers.”

“That place at West 53rd?” Ben nodded and Riley’s hand returned to her purse strap. “It’s been around for ages. You’re literally singing for your supper.”

“I am!” He winced. She thought I was in a Broadway musical. “I know it’s not a proper acting job…”

“Ben, it’s a start—a good one.”

“I hope so.” He stared at a guy on a bike up ahead weaving back and forth on the sidewalk.

“What was the audition like?”

“Different, nerve-racking. We had to sing in the restaurant in front of the artistic director and customers. Luckily the diners seemed to like me.”

“What did you sing?”

“I started with ‘City of Stars’ from La La Land, then did Rent’s ‘Seasons of Love’, but they cut me off—oh, careful.” The cyclist, refusing to get off the sidewalk, increased his speed. Ben gently clasped Riley’s arm, guiding her out of harm’s way.

She glared at the speeding bike. “I hate when adults cycle on the sidewalk. I always try to force them back onto the road where they belong.”

An amused smirk crinkled his eyes as he let go of her arm. “Your feisty is showing again. Like it.”

She smiled at Ben. “So, why did they cut you off mid-song?”

“I was the fifth person singing that Rent tune, so they asked me to do ‘Take What You Got’ from Kinky Boots. It’s a song two blokes sing in a pub. I had to do both parts.”

“Ooh, I like that one! Sounds like typecasting was going on there—British actor, British character?”

“Yeah, they had a British bloke, but he took a job on a cruise ship. They didn’t want an American doing a dodgy accent, so they were keen. I moved on to the restaurant and customer service job interview stuff straight after. By late afternoon, I got the call—job was mine.”

“This is amazing.” Riley leaned in. “You’ll perform, be in the middle of everything. You might even serve someone who could help your career. Casting agents have to eat, too. I think it’s great.”

“Cheers, Riles. Hey, you should come by! They have amazing waffle fries.”

“You had me at potato!” She giggled. “When do you start?”

“Thursday. Hopefully my bruises will have faded so I won’t put diners off their chicken parm. My first five days will be training. By the third, I’ll be singing, and on the fifth, I get my own serving section. It might be multitasking hell. God help me if I dump a sloppy joe in someone’s lap. I really need tips—the wages aren’t great.”

“Turn on that cheeky British charm and you’ll win them over no problem.”

“You think?”

“You’ll become a favorite in no time.”

She really thinks I can do this. “I don’t want to blow it. I’m going to spend this week swotting up on all the Broadway songs I don’t know.”

“I’m happy you’re staying.” She smiled.

“Me too.” His eyes lingered over her lips. Riley, if you gave me a sign, I SO would…