Lucky for Ben, Tiny didn't have any personal space bubble to speak of, and when he looped his arm around her, she couldn't help but laugh a bit and curl her own arm around his lower back as well. She hung on as he guided her in the door, but let go as he did and turned to greet the waitress. She held up two fingers just in case, since Tiny had been there a few times now and had ended up with the same hostess seating her at her little table for one. The restaurant was only a block from her loft apartment, after all, and she loved Mexican food. The spicier the better.
"Mmm, delicious, delicious hot sauce," Tiny said as they headed to a table, amused by both of his nicknames for her. Of course, she appreciated Jane Eyre much more than Stalker, but the latter was pretty funny too.
She sat down at the table and shifted to cross her legs. Not one over the other, but Indian style with both feet up and off the ground. She smiled as she slid her yellow jacket off to hang it over the back of her chair, leaning her elbows on the table and looking at Ben once her jacket was off.
"You're not wearing a beige trenchcoat," Tiny observed cheerfully, resting her chin on her hands. "I don't think you can be a real private investigator without the traditional beige trenchcoat of mystery and knowledge."