Mandy looked at the menu. An autumn chill was creeping into the air, but not to the point where it had her craving soup and a burger would require two hands and her left still throbbed dully. “I adore pizza. What do you have on yours?”

He hadn’t touched his drink yet. With a smug look, she took another sip from her own glass. “It won’t bite. It may kick, but it won’t bite. Besides, surely Madam Rosmerta didn’t make it too strong; I’m just a special case.”