Tony’s text had led to a massive ravaging of the closet. Summer loved pretty clothes, but she didn’t often indulge herself, and despite dating Tony (informally or no) for six months, she still often felt like she didn’t do him justice in the dressing up department.Should it be the violet chiffon? Or maybe something more suited to her name? Something red; or was that /too/ formal? Maybe something low-cut over a plain skirt? Or more medieval?
Finally she gave up, dumped it all back in the closet, and spread the violet ruffles out on the bed. First choice was often best, and Tony rarely seemed to care what she wore. A shower, brush through the hair and then clipped out of the face loosely with a silver butterfly, long silver star earrings, a matching star on a black velvet band … She hoped she would pass muster. No shoes in the world would bring her close to his height.
There was no mistaking the sound of the Veyron, so she stepped out the door to meet him.
The grin Tony offered her as she climbed into the car was twofold. Yes, it was mostly just the smile she got whenever he was glad to see her, and that was likely expected, considering he had planned this outing (shockingly enough). But along with it was something of that grin he got when he was planning something, and he was thrilled that he was the only one that knew what.
“You look nice,” he commented, as the car pulled out of the parking lot.
There were longer drives. But then, there were also shorter drives. Driving time aside, the restaurant the car pulled up to about fifteen minutes later wasn’t the largest in existence and in some ways it resembled something from the Victorian ages, but there was still a valet to intercept them as they stepped out of the car. Alexander’s catered to those who could afford the privacy they expected to get while they were there.
“You too,” she replied. He looked more than nice; she loved when he dressed up. Well, truth, she loved every possible look on him, though the Iron Man suit ranked lowest. Even there, though, it was … /right/. But tonight, he looked superb, and his smile had an edge of mischief she’d sorely missed.
“No more hints?” she teased. “You’re full of the mischief.” Stepping out of the car when the valet opened the door, she brushed her skirt out and deliberately gave a little swirl to her hair. She told the valet ‘thank you’ and reached for Tony’s hand, unable to shake a slight case of nerves.