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the concierge, and have him deal with you.”
    All that work getting to practice, Molly thought. And he was right around the corner after all.
    Then she held up the envelope. “She wrote it all down in this letter to me, once she knew I was Googling you on my own. She said I should know the real you and not the one in the newspaper and in magazines.”
    â€œA letter,” Josh said.
    â€œMy mom wrote a bunch of letters the last couple of months,” Molly said.
    She swallowed hard now, knowing she couldn’t cry in front of him but wanting to cry the way she did every single time she pictured Jen Parker in bed, propped up in front of all her pillows, her laptop actually on her lap, typing away. Her mom, who had dreamed about being a figure skater when she was Molly’s age, who had been a good enough athlete and a good enough skater and a hard enough worker to have that dream, wasting away before Molly’s eyes, like she was shrinking into herself.
    â€œThey’re about all kinds of stuff,” she said. “Stuff that’s already happened. Stuff she thinks is going to happen to me as I get older. This one just happens to be about you.”
    She figured that would get his attention. Mom had said it always had to be about him.
    She went for it now.
    â€œYou give me fifteen minutes,” she said, “I’ll let you read it.”
    â€œYou sound like my agent.”
    Molly said, “I didn’t know I’d have to.”
    She wasn’t usually this sarcastic with anybody, particularly adults, but there was something about him that brought it out in her.
    â€œYou’ve got a smart mouth,” he said. “I wonder where you get that from?”
    â€œMy mom,” Molly said. “But just the smart part.”

CHAPTER 9
    H e didn’t actually live in the hotel part of the old Ritz-Carlton Hotel on Arlington Street. It turned out that there was a side of the Ritz made up of apartments, the awning in front reading “Two Commonwealth.” Josh Cameron pulled up to that door in the Navigator, got out on the street side, handed the parking guy his keys.
    Molly climbed into the regular backseat and got out of the car on the street side.
    The parking guy didn’t notice her at first. He was talking to Josh as the two of them came around toward the entrance.
    â€œWe’re goin’ all the way again, Mr. C,” he said.
    â€œWhy the heck not, Lindsay?” Josh said.
    Lindsay, in his cap and gray overcoat that had “Ritz-Carlton” written on the front, noticed Molly then.
    â€œThis pretty little girl with you, Mr. C?”
    â€œYeah,” he said, even though it sounded like more of a grunt to Molly.
    â€œWhat’s your name, pretty girl?”
    â€œMolly.”
    â€œAnd what’s your relation to the world’s greatest hooper?”
    Before Molly could say anything, Josh Cameron said, “Niece.”
    Niece, Molly thought.
    Nice.
    Then an amazing thing happened, even though she knew Josh was doing it just to get her inside. He took her by the hand.
    It wasn’t the way Molly thought it would be. Or had hoped it would be.
    Still, she held her father’s hand for the first time in her life.

    The apartment, with its view of the park and the lights of the city all around it, was at the penthouse level.
    But Molly thought the best view was inside Josh’s apartment, not what you saw when you looked out. The longest sofa she had ever seen in her life. The widest television screen. The thickest carpet.
    Some of the biggest trophies.
    She didn’t ask why he was living here, but he told her when they got inside.
    â€œI moved over here while I’m having my townhouse renovated,” he said. “Lock, stock, and Mattie.”
    Molly said, “Is Mattie your dog?”
    â€œNah, even if she treats me like a dog sometimes,” he said. “Mattie is my live-in housekeeper, day planner, den mother.