Violet found it hard to believe that the man calling himself Michael Gray was actually friends with her parents. She knew their friends well, and they'd never mentioned him.

However, her mother had told her she acted like her father when unhappy with people. Therefore, he was probably telling the truth about Aaron giving him attitude. But twenty-six years ago? That was before she was even born.

If he had been friends with her parents after her birth, she was sure she would have heard of him. The friendship must have ended before then.

"Why haven't I ever heard of you?" Violet asked bluntly.

Michael Gray offered a debonair smile. "Probably because your dad thinks I'm a bad influence."

A bad influence, huh? What on earth had this guy done to earn that label? She didn't trust him; something about him seemed insincere. The best way to test his truthfulness was to call her dad.

"One moment, please," Violet said, dialing his number.

"What's up, Vi?" Aaron answered cheerfully. "I thought you were between shows."

"I ran into someone claiming to be an old friend of yours—a man named Michael Gray. Ring any bells?"

Her father was silent for a moment before replying in a resigned voice, "Don't tell me; he followed you out of the performing arts center without introducing himself."

"Yep. I take it you do know him?"

"Unfortunately," he muttered so quietly she almost missed it.

Violet knew her father wasn't fond of most people, but she'd never heard him sound like this. Michael Gray was definitely bad news.

"Put him on speaker," the man requested.

Violet complied, curious about her father's response.

"Hello, Aaron," Gray said smoothly.

Her father's voice was grumpy, but less so than before she'd put him on speaker. "Gray. Did you have to scare my daughter like that?"

"I believe her companion scared me more than I scared her. He knocked me down out of nowhere. Most uncivilized," the man sniffed haughtily.

Gray? Her dad rarely used last names. What kind of relationship did they have?

Violet's curiosity burned, but she couldn't ask her dad now. Gray's tone was light, pleasant, and utterly insincere. Her dad hated insincere people; she'd seen it firsthand.

"Is Noah with you?" Aaron asked.

Noah, moving closer to the phone, answered, "Hi, Uncle Aaron."

Violet detected relief in his tone. "That's what you get for sneaking up on people, Gray. Be more mindful next time. Violet didn't know you; you should have approached normally."

"Noted," Gray said lightly. "Lovely talking to you, as always. We still need to plan dinner. Give Keeley my best."

"I will. Bye. And good luck on your last show, Vi. Love you," her father said, his voice softer than earlier.

"Love you too."

She hung up, more confused than before. At least this strange man hadn't lied. He did know her parents.

Unsure what to do, Violet stood silent for over thirty seconds. Noah intervened, linking his arm through hers.

"If you'll excuse us, Mr. Gray, we were going to dinner before her next show. It was nice meeting you."

Thankfully, he took the hint. "I understand. Best of luck. You were a wonderful Cinderella. I'm sure I'll see you around."

Gray brushed himself off and left. Violet was relieved. What a strange man! If her dad disliked him, that was good enough for her.

She thanked Noah, who shrugged it off. They went to the restaurant and ate as if nothing unusual had happened. She didn't have time to dwell on it, and he knew it.

That was great about Noah; he understood her better than anyone, knowing when she wanted to talk and when she didn't.

"I'll tell you what my dad says about that man," Violet said between bites.

"Something about him was definitely off," Noah replied, frowning. "I'm glad he didn't catch you alone."

"What were you doing there anyway?"

"I missed you," he said directly, meeting her gaze. "Am I not allowed to see my best friend who never has time for me anymore?"

Guilt pricked her heart. She'd been busy with Jeremy lately. He might ask her to be his girlfriend soon, and she was leaning toward yes.

The problem was he seemed like the type to be possessive, unlike her previous boyfriends. She couldn't ignore Noah completely. He was family.

"I'm sorry," Violet murmured. "I still need to make up for missing Halloween. I can't come to the dojo tomorrow due to my 10–6 schedule. Why don't you come to my place for dinner and cards?"

Noah smiled, his anger gone. "Deal."

After dinner, he walked her back to Lincoln Center, promising to see her after the show. She managed to forget Michael Gray as she danced. But she couldn't forget her best friend's look when he said he missed her.

Violet looked out at the audience. Noah sat in his usual VIP seat. Her heart felt full. He'd been there since they were toddlers.

Nobody, not even her parents, sat through two performances of the same ballet, but Noah did every time. He was the only one who understood how much dance meant to her. He attended her first and last shows to discuss the entire process.

She did the same for him with karate, attending his competitions and belt tests. Support was a two-way street. She was grateful to have him.

(The final paragraph with website information has been removed as it is promotional and unrelated to the text editing request.)