“I had to dig for some of it, but yeah, it was there.”
“I love you.”
“What you love is French toast.”
“I love anyone who can do this.”
“Then you must be in love with every chef in New York.”
“Where the hell did you learn to do all this?”
“I don’t know. It just kind of comes natural. Anyone can cook, can’t they?”
“Nope, I don’t think so,” Ric said as he chomped down on the most delicious French toast and bacon he’d ever tasted. “I mean, do you have recipes…that sort of thing?”
“It’s all up here,” Reny said, tapping on his forehead.
“Wow.”
Reny smiled as Ric continued to dig in. “I have to admit, I love to see people enjoying the food I cook.”
“The food you cook? You mean…what are you some kind of short order cook, or chef of some kind?”
“No. The closest I’ve ever come to cooking was when I cooked in a diner one time, but that didn’t last long. Later I got implicated in a crime that went down, and…”