“No,” Jill replied, a tad louder and more high-pitched than she wanted. “Sorry. No. These are great. I have a feeling my mother will want this navy combo with the gold-rimmed plates, but I’ll take some pictures and show her the next time I’m summoned for dinner.”

“Summoned, huh?” Reagan asked with a soft chuckle. “Does she vanquish all humor and joy when she enters the room, too?”

Jill snorted. “So you’ve met her?”

“Actually, no. She’s only been in contact with Beth and Gwen.”

“I was kidding,” Jill replied with a grin.

“Right.” A cute blush blossomed on her cheeks. She looked up with wide eyes. “Oh, shit! I am so sorry. That was rude of me to say. I’m sure your mother is a lovely woman.”

“No, she’s not. You got her exactly right.”

Reagan’s horrified look softened to one of empathy. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Jill gave her a half smile. “Thanks.”

Reagan returned the smile and Jill’s breath hitched as she stared at Reagan’s lips. After a second, she shook her head and straightened. “I’m going to take some pictures and then I should get back to work.”

“Oh, um, sure. Take as many as you’d like.”

Jill went around the table and took a picture of each of the three samples. She took a minute to study them all one more time. “Show me more. My mother is the pickiest woman on the planet, and I know she’ll demand to see more.”

Reagan walked around the table, stopping a couple feet in front of her. “I have to disagree. I’ve been at this a long time, Ms. Jacobs. The more choices people have, the more difficult it is to make that choice. If by some chance you show her these and she’s still not satisfied, then we can discuss more options. But after chatting with you today and reading the profile your mother filled out, I’m confident that I’ve given you at least one option she will love.”

Jill crossed her arms. “How can you be so sure?”

“Like I said, this is my job and I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

“Hmm. I trust no one.”

“Well, I think by the end of all this, you’ll have at least a little trust in me.”

“We’ll see.”

“Now, have you picked other vendors? Bartender, florist, music?”

“Contracts are in the process of being signed. My mother has several that she typically uses for parties.”

“Makes sense. Are we the newbies on the list?” Reagan grinned.

“Yes, Ms. Murphy. The last caterer was a disaster, so the pressure’s on.”