Roseanne's gaze shifted as she noticed the man's hands first. They were slender and well-defined, contrasting the ready meals in his shopping cart. When she looked up, she found him already looking down at her.
Roseanne chuckled. "You're not seriously going to call that dinner, are you?"
With a slight cough, Owen replied, "Sometimes, after a long day, I can't be bothered with takeout. These are quick and easy."
"I did the math. These provide enough protein, vitamins, and carbs for a day," he added with a seriousness that made her laugh.
"Looks like Mr. Reynolds has figured it out with scientific calculation and precision," Roseanne teased. "But, what would it be if you had to choose between these and a fresh, hot meal?"
Owen fell silent. The answer couldn’t be more obvious. No one would choose a microwave meal over something freshly cooked.
With a sly smile, Roseanne said, "So, Mr. Reynolds, how about I cook dinner tonight? In return, you only need to do one thing for me."
Half an hour later, Owen was staring at a fish on the cutting board, "This seems a bit tricky to deal with."
Roseanne cleared her throat. "Usually, the supermarket has a butcher to handle this, but they’re too busy today. If you prefer..."
While rolling his sleeves and removing his glasses, Owen said, "I'll try."
"Okay," Roseanne nodded, secretly hoping to cut a corner with the tricky task of slicing fish.
But watching Owen in the kitchen, she suddenly felt guilty, wondering if it was too much to ask a physicist to slice the cod fish.
Seeing the evenly sliced fish pieces five minutes later, she dropped her earlier thought. Far from being an overkill, Owen was astonishingly talented.
"Will this do?" Owen asked.
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