"You know," he says. "Your mother and I are friends. We're not dating." Maybe they would, if things progressed beyond flirting, but they weren't anywhere near changing that yet. "Right now, my intentions are to enjoy the company of a beautiful, charming, intelligent woman who likes raspberry daiquiris and swing dancing. If that were to change..." He began, giving her an incisive sort of look.

"I think you'd know that your mother is an intelligent woman who could decide what she wants to do herself. And that you'd trust her."