Page 27 of Tricking an Introvert

Cole

"We're in front of Le Bernardin," Tessa stated, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Her enthusiasm, though not entirely surprising—she had made it clear that she enjoyed good food—was endearing.

"Yes. And we're about to go inside."

"If they don't kick us out. I'm wearing jeans, Cole."

He'd noticed. Oh, he'd noticed. The jeans were unlike the trousers he'd seen her in. They did wondrous things for her long legs, and revealed delightful curves he'd only seen glimpses of.

"You look great."

She glared at him.

Come to think of it, he should probably have given her a better indication of their destination; he'd assumed that hearing that they were headed for a prestigious establishment would just end up stressing her out.

"We have time to go back if you feel uncomfortable," he offered.

She sighed. "Let's see if they kick us out."

The maître d’ greeted them with a smile, and after he'd given him his pal's name for the reservation, he led them to the bar to wait for their table.

"See? Not a word about the jeans."

But a glance across the room revealed that most of the people here were dressed a lot differently; sparkles and satin for the ladies, a sea of tuxes for the gentlemen.

"Jesus, I never noticed how much easier it is for us to get dressed. A suit, we're fine. A blazer, we're good. And that's about it. The women here look like they're about to go on the red carpet. Sorry I didn't pass that along. I missed the memo."

"Well," Tessa supplied, "if it says anywhere on a website that men are supposed to wear jackets, it means that women should be dressed in their non-ballgown best."

He nodded. "Good to know, for next time. Still, you really do look great. I just hope you don't feel uncomfortable."

She shrugged. "I'm never comfortable outside of my house. But hey, drinks will certainly help."

As if he'd been summoned, a young boy with a thick French accent appeared with a wine and cocktail list.

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