“It’s great,” he answered, enjoying his dish with similar gusto. “I often come to this restaurant because they have one of the best chefs in New York.”
“I don’t know,” Mia teased, trying to keep the conversation light. “The salad and sandwich you made yesterday was pretty tasty.”
He grinned at her, exposing the dimple that made him seem so much more approachable. It was only on his left cheek, not the right—a slight imperfection in his otherwise flawless features that only added to his appeal. “Why, thank you. That’s the best compliment I got all year.”
“Do you cook a lot for yourself or mostly go out to restaurants?” Food seemed like a nice safe topic.
“I do both quite a bit. I like to eat, as you apparently do too”—he motioned to her rapidly disappearing portion with a smile—“so that
