“Not at all. I can’t remember the last time I ate there. Or our other two restaurants. It’s pretty rare nowadays.”

“How come?”

“I’m the numbers gal, remember. I leave the perk of free meals to our employees. And I don’t have much time to go from place to place so I do most of my work in the office. Plus, with this fourth restaurant in the works, any sampling Gwen and I do during the day is for that.”

“How’s that all going?” Kathy asked. “I can’t believe I never asked you about it all week.”

Reagan spent the next few minutes explaining how far along they were in planning and what came next. Jill sat back, enjoying what a normal family must be like. A parent asking their kid about their lives and caring enough to ask follow-up questions. And when Kathy turned the questions to her, it never felt like the stereotypical interrogation. She asked her about her hobbies and music. Jill found she and Kathy shared a love of Karin Slaughter novels, and Jill promised to find the time to read her latest so she could discuss it with Kathy at a dinner soon.

Before she realized it, they had finished their meals and the wine, and Jill wondered where the time had gone. When she ate dinner at her mother’s house, she counted down the seconds until she could leave. With Reagan and her mom, it was the complete opposite. She felt at ease here. She felt at home.

Kathy stood first, taking her plate and glass into the kitchen. Jill and Reagan followed her, but not before Reagan surprised her with a lingering kiss.

“Mmm. What was that for?”

“For being you and doing all this.”

“I should do it more often then.”

“I wouldn’t complain,” Reagan replied with a wink. She took Jill’s plate out of her hand and stacked it in the sink.

Kathy wiped her hands on a towel and nodded to a box on the counter. “Don’t forget to take those pictures when you go.”

Jill peeked into the open box. “Pictures?”

“Shit,” Reagan said under her breath.

Jill raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Kathy hung the towel on the oven door handle and reached for the box, flipping through a stack of photos she picked up. “Reagan asked me to put some pictures together for the benefit next week. Want to see some?”

“Oh no,” Reagan grumbled, covering her eyes with her hand. “Mom, I think it’s getting a little late. We should be going.”

Jill recognized the look on Reagan’s face—embarrassment. As tempting as it was to see pictures of Reagan when she was younger, Jill decided she’d rather stay in her girlfriend’s good graces. “Your stunning daughter is right. But how about another time?”