Harleen watched him check his food like a TSA agent and his great pains to remove as much as the sauce as he could. It was hard not to judge, so she let herself judge just a teeny bit. Maybe he had a lot of food allergies.

She took a small sip of wine. This last glass would need to last.

"You hate the food, you hate my company. Or maybe just company in general, I'm not quite sure on that yet. So why did you bother to come out?"