Giggling slightly, Hestia nodded. "What's sad is that I am a walking testimony to that. I drop food on me all the time, honestly. Spaghetti is the worse. I get sauce everywhere. And that's when I'm just eating it! Merlin forbid if I were to actually attempt to cook it."
"You own a bookstore?" Hestia's head quirked a bit to the side as she finished straightening herself up. "What's it called?" There was a bit of the ice cream on her finger, and she absentmindedly popped the knuckle into her mouth to lick the stickyness away. Considering her terrible idea with ice cream the week before, she had been a little reluctant to indulge once more, but the flavor was sweet, and she idly considered buying some on her way home.
"I'm running a greenhouse right down the way," She pointed over her shoulder and even motioned with her head. "It's a place called Sherry's. It's my mum's, but she's a bit out of it, so I'm running it." It was a moment before she realized that she had no clue who this bloke was. "Oh!" she remarked, slapping a hand to her forehead. "I'm a right loon. Talking away and you don't even know who I am," she extended her hand, the one that she had not licked. "Name's Hestia Jones."