Ivy balanced an armful of breakfast plates at her grandmother's stately home in suburban Connecticut.

"I can help with those Aunt Ivy."

Ivy offered Stacie a tired smile. "I am trying to stay busy," she explained to ten-year-old niece. Family matriarch Lynn Conroy, the woman who's name Ivy took to differentiate from her family, had suffered a stroke two weeks ago and was now back at home recuperating. The news had been delayed in reaching Ivy and Leigh, at Lynn's request, not wanting to interfere with the premiere of Bombshell.

Stacie scrunched her nose in confusion. "If you say so."

"I say so," Ivy repeated. The house was full of people, family members and nursing aides, all working to make sure that Grandma Lynn was adjusting to home life.

"Still hiding in here?" Ivy's older sister Alyson asked, shepherding her daughter Stacie over to the full trash can waiting to be taken out.

"Not all of us have had a week to process everything," Ivy said defensively, wiping at her right eye.

Alyson grabbed the rest of the plates, placing them in the sink. "The doctors said it was small stroke, and Grandpa has a team of people coming in and out to make sure that she's stable."

"I should have been told earlier!" Ivy slammed a set of dinnerware into the sink.

Alyson placed her arm around Ivy. "It wasn't what Grandma wanted and you know it. If she had her way, she would have come to the opening. The stroke happened the day after, at least she was home."

"But I would have come," Ivy said quietly. "Mom and I both would have come."

"You would have dropped everything and that's why she didn't want you knowing."

"How is she this morning?"

"Awake, in her room. Not quite ready for morning visitors yet."

Ivy nodded. "In that case, I think I see some carpets that need vacuuming."

Derek Wills drove down the highway in his rented car. The familiar ping of his phone drew his attention away slightly – yet another text from Hit List cast member Daisy Parker.

Daisy: Hope you haven't forgotten your end of the bargain. I know I sure haven't.

Derek groaned, shoving his phone into his pocket. There was more than one reason for his eagerness to get out of rehearsal, and Daisy Parker was certainly on the list. The primary reason however was the blonde bombshell turning heads at the Lili Hayes Theatre. She had been turning his head for over a year, but he never bothered to take serious note of her until she left the production for a short stint after a Boston tryout brought the show in a different direction. Now he found himself relegated to the 'friend zone' when she was still so firmly imprinted on his mind, more now than ever. At the mere mention of her name from Julia, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

Ivy settled into one of the upstairs closets, organizing her grandmother's vast collection of handbags and purses. According to her grandpa, Lynn had enough accessories to open her own store, though the matriarch refused the suggestion, considering the collection a celebration of her own modelling career in the mid 1900s.

"Is that my favorite granddaughter I see?" a gentle, lyrical voice called out from the hall.

"You're up and about," Ivy greeted, giving her grandmother a gentle hug.

"I had to get away from everyone," Lynn explained, "And congratulate you on your proper Broadway debut."

"Oh Grandma, I've been on stage so many times."

"But not as a headliner," Lynn corrected gently. "Come join me downstairs."

Ivy couldn't deny her grandma anything, and was quick to agree.

"Anyone special in your life?" Lynn asked as Ivy helped her sit in a chair.

Ivy felt her cheeks flush. "Works keep me too busy to date." It was a line she had used many times over the past few weeks when asked by journalists and interviewers if she was dating anyone. It was a line she had given to the last person she was involved with, director/choreographer Derek Wills. After sleeping together for a significant part of last year (Ivy never dared mention the label 'boyfriend' to him), they reconnected at her birthday party, spending nearly every night together right up to the opening night of Bombshell. Their meetings came to a halt when a chance conversation with the show's former leading lady, Karen Cartwright, told Ivy that Derek had asked her out around the same time as the birthday party.

Right as her career on Broadway was ramping up, Ivy cooled her relationship with Derek, citing everything from press functions to exhaustion (neither of which were untrue). Yet he still weighed heavily on her mind.

"Things have to slow down some time," Lynn insisted, breaking Ivy from her thoughts.

"After awards season," Ivy promised. "We win the awards to get the good box office, and when box office is good, I can relax a little."

"I just want you to enjoy what you have, you've worked so hard for it."

"Don't I know it," Ivy grimaced. "Nearly ten years in the chorus and I finally have my chance in the spotlight."

"You've certainly earned it," Leigh noted.

"Are you still seeing much of that British director?" Lynn asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We still speak at professional functions," Ivy said mildly, feeling her face grow warm.

"Alyson says you two used to be very involved."

Ivy pursed her lips. "Well Alyson may need to mind her own business," Ivy replied, eying her sister from the hallway.

"The newsfeeds are everywhere," Alyson shot back. "Couldn't ignore if it I tried."

"Well I managed to ignore most of it leading up to the opening," Ivy reasoned, reaching for a cookie from the center platter. Turning back to her grandmother, Ivy explained that she'd rather focus on her grandmother than anything back home. Ivy attempted to listen with Alyson recited Lynn's new regimen and routine. A drowning feeling of loneliness crept over her as she realized how many changes were happening in her family without her. It had been a difficult decision to move to New York for a theatre career, her mother had warned her against trying, but Ivy had refused to listen and was now faced with the disconnect of her family.

"Aunt Ivy!" Stacie stomped her feet her for emphasis. "There's someone at the door for you."

Ivy blinked her eyes. "Here for me? No one knows I'm here."

"I've seen his picture before – Mommy's shown it to me."

"Has she?" Ivy pressed, shooting her sister a firm look indicating that they would talk later. She shakily stood up, and walked toward the front entryway.

"Hello."

The smoothness of his accent caused Ivy's knees to buckle slightly. Standing in front of her was the man whose memory she couldn't let go of. Opening her mouth to speak, nothing came out from a gasp of air as she flew into his arms, burying her face in his chest.