I couldn’t blame her, honestly. She was scared. It was written all over her face.

“I’m in the mood for a giant hunk of lasagna,” Mo said and then sighed. “But I’ll probably have the braised cod with lemon.”

I glanced over the menu. “I don’t see that option.”

“It’s not on there,” she said. “It doesn’t have to be cod. Tilapia is fine. Or sole.”

“Sole?” Nieves had ordered the Dover sole at lunch, though I’d had to cancel her order when she left abruptly after getting the call about Leta.

“Any kind of white fish,” Mo said. “Zee and I are on strict diets.”

“Not tonight,” I said. “The sky’s the limit. You ladies order whatever you’d like.”

“And then we’ll have to deal with Tiger tomorrow,” Mo said.

“Who’s Tiger?”

“She’s the choreographer. I swear the woman can see one extra ounce on our bodies.”

“Do you agree, Zee?” I asked.

“I agree about Tiger,” she said, “but Mo knows I don’t stick to her diet as strictly as most of the girls do.”

“Zee is lucky. Nothing ever changes on her gorgeous bod.”

“You both look amazing to me,” I said.

Mo giggled and blushed. Zee stayed silent and blushed.

“Seriously,” I said. “I want you both to order what you want. Even if you only take a few bites. Take the rest home in a doggie bag and have few bites each day until it’s gone. You’ve got to live a little sometimes.”

“Actually,” Zee said, finally meeting my gaze, “I couldn’t agree more.”

15

Zee

Reid’s eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead, which didn’t surprise me. Of course my words shocked him. They shocked me as well.

I wasn’t sure where they’d come from.

Mo was a stickler for our strict diet, but she was right. I was not. I’d been starved during my modeling years. I knew hunger, and it wasn’t pretty.

So never again. Not that I overindulged much, but I never starved myself.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Zee,” Reid said. “What looks good to you tonight? Or do you want to wait to hear the chef’s specials?”

I picked up the menu and scanned it quickly. “Cedar plank salmon. Salmon is my favorite fish.”

“Salmon is wonderful,” Reid agreed, “but it seems like a red meat kind of night.”

“I don’t eat a lot of red meat.”

“Why not?”

“Never had the taste for it.” True story. It just wasn’t my thing.

“Fair enough. Salmon it is. And you, Mo?” Reid asked.

“I’m afraid I’ll be going with the cod with lemon.”

“As you wish. I’ll see that the chef prepares it to your specifications.”

Eleanor appeared tableside. “Just checking in, Mr. Wolfe.”