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“Peace planet!” Lori shook her head when Gabe looked even more befuddled. “Are we doing word association?”

“The movie, Star Wars. Han Solo was the hero. Her name is Hannah. Hence, Solo.”

Lori pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh. “So she’s a movie geek or she was a hero?”

Gabe smiled. “I suppose she’s both, but don’t tell her I said that or her head won’t fit through the door. We served together, and now we’re in business together. She and her wife, Janie, live in Boystown with triplets.”

Lori widened her eyes. “Triplets?”

“That was my reaction too. Three for the price of one. And they’re identical. I had nightmares for a week after meeting them once. I think they’re going to take over the world when they grow up. The oldest—Tia—is the ringleader. God help Solo and Janie now that they’re walking.”

“Do you like kids as much as you like dogs?”

Gabe grumbled. “We should maybe decide what we’re eating before we go down that road.”

“Okay,” Lori said and tapped the menu. “But I still want your answer. I won’t forget.”

“I’m sure you won’t.”

Gabe held Lori’s gaze long enough for Lori to appreciate the rich hues of green edged by chocolate brown in Gabe’s eyes. She pulled her focus down to the menu reluctantly and sighed.

“Is something wrong?” Gabe asked.

“Not at all. It’s just…this is a lot of burgers.” She flicked through the pages and pages of options.

“I know, right?” Gabe grinned.

She’d ducked that one. Her sigh had been nothing to do with the menu and everything to do with beauty in Gabe’s eyes…but the lawyer had pretty eyes too, and Lori had failed to see the dark soul that lingered behind them until the very end.

When the waiter returned, Gabe ordered a triple-decker and Lori went with a simple burger with no cheese. Gabe raised her eyebrows slightly but didn’t comment. “You’re wondering about my choice when there are all these options, aren’t you?”

Gabe shrugged. “Would you rather go somewhere else? I passed a sushi bar and a pie place just around the corner. Chicago’s pizza is something else.”

“No, this is fine. I love burgers.” She gestured to her shirt. “I was severely tempted by the Tex-Mex one, but melted cheese, guacamole, and chili don’t wash out of silk.” Lori had overthought every aspect of this lunch, but she hadn’t considered her outfit choice in relation to the food at all. Silk made her feel confident, and on her first sojourn into the city in so long, she’d needed that extra boost.

Gabe flicked out a napkin and tucked it into the open collar of her button-down shirt. “This always works for me.”

Lori laughed. “I don’t think it does.”

Gabe straightened the napkin like it was a tie. “I think it gives me the professional look I’m going for. This is an important meeting, and I’m taking it very seriously,” she said before grinning and pulling it off.

“Mm, nice segue.” Lori clapped quietly. “Is that your way of avoiding my question about kids?”

“Wow, you really didn’t forget. You’re like an elephant.”

“Hardly. It was only a few minutes ago, although I don’t know how to feel about you comparing me to a nine-thousand-pound animal with tushes.”

“Tushies? Don’t all animals have tushies?”

Lori shook her head. “Tushes, not tushies. It’s what female elephants have instead of tusks.”

“Huh. So you don’t just know about dogs and horses then?”

“I’ve worked with elephants too, yes. But that’s another long story, and you’re eager to get to business, so you should just answer my question about dogs and kids, and then we can talk about what you want to do with that rusty old thing on my property.”

“Fine,” Gabe said and gave Lori a crooked grin. “But you have to promise not to judge. My opinion on children has got nothing to do with my overall niceness, and it doesn’t affect my qualities as a friend.”

Lori arched her eyebrow. “Unless your friend has children and needs you to babysit.”