I shrug. “At this point, I wouldn’t even leave for chocolate.”
“Now, that’s extremely serious. Not even chocolate crème?”
I shake my head.
“With raspberries?”
Another shake.
“How about a cake that melts when you bite into it, with this delicious strawberry drizzle—”
“Not even if an entire palace was made from it,” I say, though my traitorous stomach growls in disagreement.