He wouldn't mind dancing with her too. She might be a great partner for a sultry salsa. But for now, he's enjoying singing with her. Her voice is wonderful. He doesn't know why she had been so worried about it. She's very talented. He could easily see her on the opera stage, weaving a spell of music and art over the audience. Any man would be glad to have her as a leading lady.

He comes in, careful not to oversing her. He wants to match her. Harmonize with her not sing over top of her. He can't help but move around her, as if taking over the part. It's difficult in such a kitchen. It's even more difficult because this part gets a little too high for his rage. He's never struggled before. He presses through but when he finally ends near her, with the syrup, he gives her an apologetic look. He is sorry he's not good enough for her. She deserves a better tenor than him.