“Cooking Robot!” Bent yelled. The little metal eye emerged from the opening in the counter. It quickly scanned the room, as if trying to locate where the mystery person he’d seen had gone. Satisfied that he was safe, the metal critter raised itself to its full height. Took inside Bent’s enormous sweatshirt, Sarah gazed at the machine. It had four spindly arms, a tiny head in the center of those arms, and one antenna eye stuck to the top of its head. “Isn’t he cute?” Bent said. He poked Cooking Robot with his finger. The machine made a whirring, almost purring sound. In a way, it was almost cat-like. “What shall I serve, Mr. Prince?” Cooking Robot asked. It didn’t seem to notice Sarah at all in the sweatshirt. Bent glanced at her. “How about dessert?” he said. Sarah nodded. “What does he have?” she asked timidly. She had her eyes locked on one of the curls of his hair near his forehead. It was impossible to talk to him when he was half-dressed.Bent stuck his hands into his pants pockets. It made his pants inch farther down his hips, getting closer to dangerous territory.Sarah gulped, pulling her eyes away. Focus on something else. Anything else! She made herself stare at Cooking Robot instead.Its little legs moved up and down in a dance as it awaited instruction.”Cooking Robot can cook anything,” Bent said proudly.Sarah scoffed. “Seriously? Anything? And you ordered pizza for dinner?”Bent smirked. “Regular food is good, too,” he said. “Come on, what kind of dessert? Cooking Robot gets anxious if he’s kept waiting.”The little robot watched Bent with one adorable eye.”How about…pecan pie?” she asked. That sounded pretty good.Bent gave the order to the machine.Immediately, Cooking Robot dipped down below the counter. There was a commotion of noise down there. It sounded like the robot was working a million miles an hour. But a few minutes later, it popped back up, like a jack-in-the-box. It held a large pecan pie in one of its four spindly arms. With a free arm, it raised the pecan pie over its head and torched it with a flame. The crust and pecans turned a deep, rich brown.It dropped the pie onto a tray. Adding a couple of forks, it stretched its long arm out to place the pie on the table beside the empty pizza boxes.”Nice work, Cooking Robot,” Bent said happily. “You can go now.”The machine made a whirring sound and collapsed back down inside the counter. The marble top rolled back into place.”Bon appétit,” Bent said. He tugged the arm of Sarah’s sweatshirt, pulling her back into her chair. “How many pieces do you want?” he asked, beaming.”One’s fine,” she said.Bent cut her a somewhat large piece and plopped it down on her pizza plate. He then began to devour the rest of the pie.Sarah picked up her fork and took a bite. Her eyes bulged. It was the creamiest, sweetest, and crunchiest pecan pie she’d ever had. “Amazing,” she said.Bent tipped back his head and did his bell-like laugh. “Now you know why Cooking Robot hides,” he said. “Everyone in the world would want him.”Everyone in the world would want you, too, she thought dazed, watching his eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughed.