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Fay sat herself on a stool and faced the kitchen. "I can't lie," she began. "It's very impressive watching you work. Where did you learn to cook like this?"

Ben wiped a few beads of sweat away from his forehead with a dishtowel. The air in the apartment was hot, and the smell of garlic and cheese drifted out from the oven. "My mom," he answered quickly. "She insisted I learn a few basics."

"To wow your dates?" Fay asked with a smile.

Ben blushed and shrugged his shoulders. "Mom always knows best."

She giggled and peeked at her manicure. "Yes, they really do. My friends always said that I should find myself a nice mama's boy."

Ben reached into the cabinet next to the stove, took down two ceramic plates, and placed them on the kitchen island with a couple of paper towels and some silverware.

Fay picked up a fork and inspected it. "So, what else is on the menu this evening?"

A small pot on the stove began to gurgle. Ben rushed over and turned down the heat. "Let's see," he said while giving it a stir. "Well, besides the chicken parmesan, we have a creamy polenta, some balsamic roasted Brussels sprouts, and a slice of tiramisu for dessert."

"Sounds divine," she cooed.

"And help yourself to more wine. I have another bottle in the fridge. I'm just going to go wash up really quick. The timer might ring; if it does, can you turn off the oven for me?"

"I think I can manage that."

He grinned goofily and stepped around the corner.

A minute later, the timer jingled. She picked up the phone and silenced it. Then she frowned. There was a notification from Nonna Maria's. It said they hoped Ben enjoyed the food.