“Should I get a stopwatch out or something? Do you want me to put on a hat and say yes, chef?” “You sound like you want to make this a game.” “It’s the competitive nature in me,” I offer, and she smirks. “NHL player, remember?” “Oh, I remember. Okay, Hayes. We’ll play by your rules. How much time do I have?” “Thirty minutes.” I pick a random number and grin. “You really think you can make something out of nothing that quick?” “Doubting me already?” “Hell no,” I tell her, and her confidence doesn’t waver. “But I will be impressed. Last I checked, I don’t even have peanut butter in the pantry.”
