“I’m not sure yet,” she said, surprising herself with the playful, flirtatious tone.

“What would make you sure?”

She shrugged. “Is it your usual drink?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll drink pretty much anything except for a dirty martini.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because that’s my dad’s drink of choice.” He winked.

She liked him already.

“What about you? You always stick to red wine?”

“No, I’m like you. I’ll drink most things, except for white zin.”

“Let me guess, that’s your mom’s drink of choice.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s just gross.”

He laughed. Hard. She melted.

When Natalie arrived, Jay shocked Whitney by asking for her number. Natalie had given her a broad smile and a thumbs-up. By that point, she didn’t need the endorsement, but she welcomed it.

Jay had already hooked her.

“Oh, yes, that’s better. I’m sure serial killers never frequent bars in restaurants.” Amelia laughed.

“He’s not a serial killer,” Whitney insisted, her phone buzzing again.

What are you up to today? his text read.

“How do you know?” Amelia asked.

Whitney glanced at his picture displayed at the top of their text thread. “I just know. He’s a nice guy. Charming. Good-looking.”

“That’s what they said about Ted Bundy,” Amelia pointed out, and her friend laughed.

“Okay, you watch way too much TV. Jay’s a nice guy. He’s not a serial killer.”

“I sure hope not, since he totally knows where we live,” Amelia said.

This time she wasn’t laughing. “What’s going on, Amelia? We’ve talked about this. I didn’t think you had a problem with me dating Jay.” She’d dated a few guys in the last couple of years and Amelia had never seemed suspicious of them.

“I don’t.” She shrugged.

“Then why were you saying he’s a serial killer?”

“It wasn’t really about Jay, I guess. I just wonder, you know, like how well do we really know anybody?” Amelia said, a faraway look on her face.

Lauren nodded in agreement.

Whitney’s stomach knotted. Her daughter wasn’t the philosophical type, and this new depth was not a welcome change.

“Lauren seems nice,” Whitney said a few minutes after Lauren left.

“Yeah, she’s cool.” Amelia opened the fridge and pulled out a water. After unscrewing the top and taking a sip, she reached for her earbuds.

Inwardly, Whitney groaned. She was already losing her.

“You seem to really like her,” Whitney blurted out loudly before she could get both earbuds in.

“Yeah, she’s cool,” Amelia repeated slowly as if Whitney was hard of hearing.

“No, I mean you really seem to like her.” Whitney put emphasis on the word like, hoping Amelia would understand what she was getting at.

But she appeared more confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Smooth, Whit. Real smooth.