Finnick frowned slightly and turned the laptop screen toward me.
"The restaurant is called Flavors of Italy," he said. "I assumed the whole set of dishes would be authentic Italian cuisine."
His serious tone made me feel a little embarrassed.
Of course. He grew up in a powerful pack family. People like him probably paid attention to details like that.
Most people didn't take restaurant names that seriously.
"Most Italian restaurants that offer takeout serve pizza like this," I explained as I placed the pizza box on the table. "Have you ever had pizza before?"
"Yes," Finnick replied calmly. "I tried charcoal-grilled pizza when I traveled in Europe."
He paused before adding,
"But I've never eaten pizza that comes in a paper box like this."
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
I grinned and tore off a slice before handing it to him.
Finnick took the slice from my hand. He bit into it slowly, then frowned.
"It tastes different from the ones I tried before."
