He had a firm, confident handshake, but not one of those bone-crushing grips. He quirked an eyebrow slightly. "I think I missed your name," he said ruefully.
"I've never enjoyed cooking for one," he said, moving to the fridge and peering inside. He glanced up at him and smiled slightly. "That's me," he said in his soft tones. He picked up a carton and frowned at it, then took out his reading glasses and slipped them on.