Harlowe laughed slightly, and at least appeared to be genuinely enthusiastic about the Italian food. "Spataro's. I'll remember it the next time I'm out and hungry."
It would make a change from poptarts, or whatever micro meal she could get her hands on before going on the move. She didn't enjoy that sort of trash, but when she was in a rush it was that or...stay home. That was never a possibility; because then the idleness kicked in, the knowledge that while she was sitting on her ass, someone was in trouble.
It may have come as a surprise to some, once they became acclimatised to her eating habits that she could cook. Harlowe enjoyed it, it made her reasonably happy while she was distracted. It gave her something casual to do a couple of nights out of the working week. Or it had until she moved to Sacramento.
Note to self: Check out cooking classes in the neighbourhood.
"Just a couple of days," Harlowe answered. "Nowhere near long enough to get complete stock of the area completely yet." Something about the way she said that suggested she took getting to know a neighbourhood very seriously.
Harlowe took a long swig of the beer, and grinned. "Could be worse. Could be Corrs. The secret ingredient in that really is piss. Gotta be."