Greer had moved to a countertop wine holder, inspecting the dusty bottles upon it. There were three bottles, two of red and one of white. Without looking, she removed one of the reds and started to search through the drawers for an opener. She was a stranger in her own kitchen. "There should be one around here," she proclaimed, finding an all-in-one bottle opener/corkscrew in the drawer nearest the stove. With a bit more searching, she produced a boxed wok. "Now you know that I rarely cook." Unwrapping the wok and rinsing it out quickly, she held it out to him, "Finally, it gets a proper use." The wok had been an old wedding present, something she had not asked for but could not justify donating. It was perfectly good and she knew that one day it would come in handy.
"I told you I'm not much for cooking," the woman explained, returning to the unopened bottle of wine. Was she getting embarrassed? She scowled at herself for the way she was acting. Unprepared. Fussy. It was nothing like her. Hopefully the alcohol would fix that. "Here," she set a glass of half-red next to him. "You won't mind if I watch you work, will you? You're the first man to make me dinner in a long time. I'm hoping to pick up a few tricks."