She titters behind her hand, knowing of only one kitchen that would do.  The one in her penthouse.  "I know of a place we can go.  But- I feel a little bad; you are the guest, you should not have to cook for my enoyment."  Her smile widens none-the-less and pulls at one of the ornaments in her hair.  Loosening it and pushing it back into place.<br/><br/>They reach the parking lot and she waits by his side to decide what to do next.