Change In Atmosphere

Amanda was right, it really was just dinner. No smoke and mirrors, no tricks up her sleeves… didn't lace the drinks with some kind of narcotic that makes me go goo-goo ga-ga all over her. 

Hell, even if she did, didn't think I'd mind it much… on top of being the Da Vinci of our time, it seems she was also gunning to beat out Gordon Ramsay when it came to culinary delights. 

She decided on Italian tonight, plates of spaghetti and slices of lasagna a swirling enticing aroma that could Irene a run for her money, and though I was no Luigi or Giovanni or some shit, I could still safely say she knocked it out of the ballpark with this one.

Now I already knew she could cook good, she was the one that taught Ash how to handle the pan and spatula during the time when I was still rehabilitating, but I just don't know, man… something about tonight's meal had me asking for seconds, thirds, and even fourths.