Luigi had inherited the business from his father and grandfather and was now the primary chef. He was thirty-five but looked fifty. He’d once competed with Ivy in a local firehouse cooking competition. She’d beaten him. He was pissed.

“Look who’s winning now,” she grumbled as she turned the page.

She grazed through more glossy pictures of food and exotic locations. There’d been a time when this magazine and others like it would have fueled her dreams of a culinary future. Now she found herself wanting to tweak Ruth’s fried-chicken and seafood-chowder recipes and maybe change the seasoning in her grandmother’s coleslaw. There was also the barbecue recipe to update and the tempura-batter experiment she’d been mulling over.

The door opened, and Dani reappeared. “Ready?”

Ivy checked her watch and realized it had been forty minutes. She downed the last of her coffee, tossed the cup in the trash, and replaced the magazine. Glancing up, she caught a glimpse of Dani’s watery, bloodshot eyes. “Everything all right?”

“Just the drops. They can be irritating.”

That didn’t ring true, but Ivy wasn’t going to argue in the doctor’s office. As soon as the elevator doors opened, Ivy hurried toward them and held the door open. Dani slid on her glasses and moved more slowly across the tiled floor. When she approached the doors, she slowed as if she wasn’t quite sure where to stop.

“One step forward,” Ivy said.

“I know that.” And then, less sharply, “Thanks.”

Ivy regarded her more closely now, not so sure she was seeing all that well. “Those must be some powerful drops.”

“They are.”

Ivy stayed close and opened the passenger-side door. Dani didn’t complain as she slid into the seat, fumbled for her seat belt, and then hooked it.

Behind the wheel, Ivy started the engine and backed out of the spot. Neither spoke while Ivy navigated them out of Norfolk traffic and back onto the interstate. “I read the brochure. Dr. Zacharias is cute,” Ivy said.

“He is,” Dani said.

“He married?”

“You interested?”

“No, just thinking what a cute couple you two would make,” Ivy said.

Dani brushed a piece of lint from her sleeve. “He’s always very professional.”

“All the more reason to want him,” Ivy said.

“I’ve got bigger fish to fry than chasing my eye doctor.”

“According to his brochure, he doesn’t treat run-of-the-mill cases, Dani.” Ivy let the comment stand, hoping Dani would spill.

“He does specialty cases as well as routine.”

The nonanswer failed to deflect. “Tell me what’s going on. This is the kind of errand your brother or father should have done. Not a questionable friend from the past.”

“They’re busy. And you’re not questionable.”

Was there a compliment buried in there? “That doesn’t smell like the entire truth.”

Dani rubbed her manicured fingers over the back of her neck. “The entire truth?”