Rebecca set down the phone and pressed a hand to her stomach. She wasn’t going to be sick. Maybe if she told herself that a few more times her body would listen. But she’d done what needed to be done and they should be back on professional ground. Except that he was going to ask her out again. The crickets in her stomach started jumping again. She huffed out a breath. She’d say no. She had to. They weren’t nineteen anymore and this wasn’t summer camp.

She ignored the stab in her heart. It was time to be practical. And realistic. Both of those things meant there was no future for Ben and her. Or her and any guy. As much as she might dream of marriage and kids, that would mean opening the door to her past, and that wasn’t something she was willing to do. Let bad-girl-Becky stay in rehab in Switzerland, or jet off to Tokyo to be a flag-girl for illegal street racing. Whatever Becky did, that girl wasn’t coming back to the States and intruding on the life of Rebecca Fischer.

Her cell lit up, its cheerful ring tone shattering the quiet. Rebecca smiled at her mother’s face on the screen.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hi Becca. It’s not too late, is it? I know it’s nearly ten, your time, but I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

Rebecca boosted herself up onto the kitchen counter and swung her legs. “Nope, it’s fine. I don’t have an early day tomorrow. Everything okay?”

“Oh, it’s fine. You remember I mentioned the conference in D.C. this spring?”

“Sure. That’s in March, right?”

“Something like that. I don’t have my calendar right here.”

Rebecca chuckled. Her mother was lost without the fat day-timer she’d been lugging around since the mid-eighties. No amount of cajoling would get her to switch to electronic scheduling.

“Anyway. Your father’s decided to join the planning committee on their initial trip to the venue, get a feel for the lay of the land and so forth. So we’ll be in town next week. Is there any way you could take a few days off and play tourist with us?”

Next week? “Um.”

“I know it’s short notice. Will you ask?”

The only new client she had right now was Ben. Everyone else would be fine going through their exercises with minimal supervision. Another therapist could easily handle that. But Ben...they could handle his rehab, too, realistically, regardless of whatever pangs missing him would cause. “I’ll ask.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I know it’s an imposition to have so little notice. But it’ll be great to see you. It’s been too long.”

“I’ll enjoy seeing you too, Mom.”

“We’re both excited about the possibility, Becca. Do you really think your father has any interest in the pre-planning meetings?”

Rebecca sighed. Probably not. Dad was much more of a fly in, give a talk, bask in the adoring adulation of his fans, and then zip off into the sunset kind of guy. Even so, it was a stretch to think he cared about seeing her. “I was home at Christmas. It hasn’t even been a year.”

“Oh, honey. Your father loves you.”

She pressed her fingers into her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I know. I’ll let you know if I can get some time off, okay?”

“Do you think you can let us know tomorrow? I suspect your father will want to cancel our flights if you’re not available.”

Rebecca sighed. “I’ll ask first thing and text you. The whole week?”

“If you can.”

She had the time. But she’d been saving up her time off for a real vacation. Something with friends or on her own. Something that had the hope of being relaxing. Not that seeing Mom would be bad, she’d been toying with the idea of the vacation being a mother and daughter adventure. But Dad...Dad complicated things. “All right.”

“Thanks honey. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Right. Bye.”

Rebecca plugged her phone into the charger and scooped up the fat folder from the mission. She might as well see what she’d gotten herself into. There wasn’t really any way to say no, not after the guilt trip Jerry had sent her on. The mission needed the exposure and the potential new donors that would bring. Not to mention Bread of Heaven was a well-known, respected agency, so being associated with them was only going to help the mission. There was obviously some benefit to the larger charity. Was it as simple as wanting to expand into local missions?

She flipped open the folder, smiling at Ben’s confident scrawl at the bottom of the letterhead. Maybe something in here would help her get a better handle on what Bread of Heaven hoped to gain. And maybe, if she was really lucky, she’d get a bigger picture of the man Ben had become.

“Ben, this is Sara. She’s going to be working with you next week when I’m off.”

Ben frowned, his gaze steady on Rebecca as he extended his hand to Sara. “But you’ll be back?”

Rebecca nodded, ignoring Sara’s less-than-subtle elbow in her ribs. “My folks decided to come visit.”

He nodded.

Sara waved. “I’ve got another client coming in, but I’ll see you next week, Ben.”

“Maybe you could meet us for lunch on Thursday?” Where had that come from? Hopefully he’d say no.

“I could probably do that. I’ll need to check with my roommates and see if someone can give me a ride.”

“Right. I forgot you’re not cleared to drive yet. Never mind.” Thank you, Jesus.

He chuckled. “Nuh-uh. You asked. I’m going to see if I can swing it. But this isn’t the same as me asking you out. Just so we’re clear.”

“It’s really not...” She trailed off at the stubborn set of his jaw and swallowed. In for a penny. “I can pick you up, if that’s easier.”

“Deal. Do you want me to give you my address, or you just wanna look it up in my file?”

She laughed. “I’ll go get you a piece of paper. Do another ten extensions while I’m gone.”

Rebecca stared up at the restaurant’s sign and frowned. This is what she got for letting Sara choose their dinner spot. Season’s Bounty. It even sounded pretentious and expensive. They could get salads anywhere, even at a drive through. Why did they have to go to Clarendon, for crying out loud?

“Boo.” Sara tapped Rebecca on the right shoulder before peeking around her left.

“Have you been here before? ‘Cause I...”

“Oh, relax. It’s delicious and not overpriced. You’re just upset about having to be near the city on a Friday night like a normal single person instead of holed up in the suburbs like an old fogey.” Sara glanced at her watch. “Jen should be here soon. This’ll be fun. Trust me.”

Rebecca scoffed. “You remember what happened the last time you said that, right?”

Sara waved it away. “Please. How was I supposed to know it was a strip club? My mom’s friend said it was the best girls night out she’d ever been to. I had no idea she was that kind of person. Neither did my mom, for that matter. This is just dinner. No show. Promise.”

Jen jogged up, breathing heavily. “Sorry I’m late. I had to park practically at the Courthouse Metro.”

“There’s a garage right there.” Rebecca pointed across the street.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t want to pay garage prices. I found a meter. One quarter should see me through to when switch to free.” Jen shrugged. “I really want to go on the Holy Lands trip the pastor mentioned on Sunday. So pennies are getting squeezed until they whimper. Let’s eat, I’m starved.”

Sara pulled open the door and gestured for Rebecca and Jen to go in.

Rebecca’s stomach growled as the rich, meaty smells assaulted her nose. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. There was definitely more than salad on the menu.

The hostess smiled. “Do you have a reservation?”

Sara nodded. “Under Reynolds.”

“Three?” At Sara’s nod, the hostess slid magnets around on the podium before collecting menus and rolled silverware. “Follow me.”

Rebecca elbowed Sara. “Look at you, making reservations. I was about ready to mention the taco place down the street.”

“I made the mistake of not having a reservation the first time I came here. They get busy on weekends, so I figured I’d call ahead just to be safe.” Sara grinned.

“Looks like that was a good call. They’re packed.” Jen nodded to the dining room. “I don’t see any empty tables. Where are they putting us?”

The hostess stopped at a table in the back corner. “Here you go. The soup tonight is cream of mushroom with bacon. Your server will be with you shortly.”

Rebecca slid around the table, taking the chair in the corner where she could look out over the room. They really were doing a brisk business. “Food must be good if they’re this busy all the time. Of course, you say mushrooms and bacon, and you’ve got my attention.”

Sara and Jen laughed.

Rebecca flipped open the menu. “What else is good?”

Sara opened her menu. The corners of her mouth turned down. “Hmm. The menu’s changed a lot since I was here in August. I guess they really do keep it seasonal and local; it’s not just a gimmick to get people through the door.”

Jen shook her head. “Cynical. Both of you.”

“Like you’re any different.” Rebecca set her menu down. There wasn’t any question. She was getting the soup and the stuffed pork chop. It didn’t matter one way or the other that the pork came from nearby, or that the spinach and garlic used to stuff them came from the chef’s own garden. The description made her mouth water and she didn’t have to cook it.

“True. True. That’s why we’re friends.”

“That and we’re the only sane single people at church.” Sara sighed and closed her menu. “Anyone else getting that pork chop? It sounds too amazing to pass up.”

Rebecca raised her hand.

Jen shook her head. “I’m getting soup. And bread. And that’s it. Don’t let me cave.”

“Dieting again?” Rebecca frowned at her eternally ten-pounds-overweight friend. “You need to figure out how to be happy in your skin. You’re beautiful. And not fat.”

“What she said.” Sara jerked a thumb at Rebecca. “Seriously.”

Jen hunched her shoulders. “Look, it’s not like I’m starving myself. I’m just trying to make better choices and avoid shelling out for jeans that are another size up. If nothing else, I’d like to put that shopping trip off ‘til the spring, after the trip to the Holy Lands. Besides, it’s kind of rich for the ex-running-addict to be giving body image advice.”

The blood drained from Rebecca’s face as the barb hit home. She bit back a retort. She’d quit running, hadn’t she? And bought a whole new wardrobe as the pounds—and shape—came back. Now she had her mother’s hips, whether she wanted them or not. But at least they came with a little more up top. She hadn’t been mistaken for a boy in years.

“Bzzt. Foul.” Sara made a T with her hands.

“Yeah, okay, sorry.” Jen frowned. “I just want...”

“I get it. Don’t worry about it, ‘k?” Rebecca patted her friend’s hand and blew out a breath. “Did I tell you my parents are coming to town this weekend?”

“Um, duh? You’re handing off Mr. Seriously-too-hot-to-be-real to be my client for the week.” Sara waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe I can take him to lunch after a session and plumb the inner depths of his soul. He looks like someone who has some dangerously deep inner depths.”

Jen snickered. “What does that even mean?”

Rebecca reached for her glass. Her entire body had to be flushed. Empty. Where was their server?

“It means he’s hot, not wearing a ring, and, given the fire bolts shooting out of Rebecca’s eyes, not fair game for anyone but her. Dang.” Sara gave an exaggerated sigh. “Woe is me.”

“Please.” Rebecca cleared her throat. Definitely time to change the subject. “Was the service slow last time you were here?”

“Hang on. I’m out of the loop. Who’s the hottie? When did this happen? And I totally agree that he’s off limits, cause if looks could kill, you’d be living in past tense, Sara.” Jen scooted her chair in and pinned Rebecca with her gaze. “Spill it.”

A girl who looked impossibly young appeared at the table. “Hi, I’m Cara. I’ll be taking care of you tonight and I’m so sorry you had to wait, it’s my first night. Can I take your drink order and maybe start you off with an appetizer?”

Rebecca let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Saved. At least for a minute or two. What was she supposed to tell them? These were her two closest friends. They knew almost everything, though she hadn’t said exactly who her dad was. They’d never pushed, which meant they’d either figured it out and were being nice or they didn’t care.

When Cara left with their drink and dinner orders, Jen focused her attention back on Rebecca. “So? Let’s have it.”

Sara leaned forward. “I’m interested, too. Cause the look you gave me says he’s more than a good looking PT client.”

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s a long story...”

“So what? We’ve got all night. Right, Jen?”

“Right.”