“Actually, I could go for a beer too.” She put her fork down. “My parents didn’t drink a drop of alcohol. So when I got to college, I experimented. A lot. I was warned that beer was an acquired taste.” She laughed. “Well, I was also told good wine was as well, but we couldn’t afford good wine.”

“But beer?”

“Yes. I like beer. When I worked at the real estate place, we used to go out to local microbreweries quite a bit. I enjoyed that. There’s so many unique beers out there.”

“I would pick you for a light beer kind of gal.”

“You’d be wrong,” she said as she took another bite of the pseudo stroganoff.

Harper paused, lightly tapping her plate with her fork. “Listen, about earlier.”

Dani raised her eyebrows. “Earlier?”

“You…me…the hug.”

“Oh. Are hugs not allowed?”

“No. I mean, no, that’s not it, however…hugs probably aren’t allowed.” Harper put her fork down. “What I mean is, I don’t talk about Jan. Ever. To anyone.” She picked her fork up again, stirring the food on her plate. “I don’t know why, really. Reid…he’s the closest thing I have to a friend here and I’ve never mentioned her.”

“And you’re questioning why you’ve told me about her?”

“Yeah.”

Dani folded her hands together, wondering what Harper was thinking. “Did it feel good to talk about her?”

Harper nodded. “I feel responsible for her death. I carry that with me. But I also feel…cheated. Cheated out of love. Cheated out of a life with her. We were happy. We had a good relationship. So I carry this guilt with me—because she’s dead—yet I still have a sense of selfishness. I feel sorry for myself for what I’ve lost.”

“From what you’ve said, you not only lost her, but you lost your family, her family. You left friends behind.” Dani waited until Harper met her eyes. “You don’t have any friends, do you?”

“No. I don’t have anyone.”

Dani reached across the table and covered Harper’s hand with her own. “We’re kinda in the same boat for completely different reasons,” she said quietly. “I’ll be your friend, Harper…if you’ll be mine.”

Harper turned her hand over, letting their fingers entwine. “Thanks. I think I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

* * *