Theodore Weyland (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} themonsterinme) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} containmentrp,@ 2015-07-07 19:46:00 |
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What: DINNER!
Where: Osteria Salina (Upscale Italian Restaurant)
When: Thursday Night
Teddy's nerves were running in full swing as he'd rushed to get ready after work, though he felt more like a chicken with its head cut off than an adult human being. He'd already had an outfit picked out, but he'd changed it around twice after hitting the shower. Osteria had required reservations a few days in advance, his mother picking Italian as it appeared his father wouldn't be joining them, and Teddy taking the initiative on picking a place. A nice place, to be sure, pricey, but for a good cause. In the end he'd forgone the tie, recalling the fact that this was the same outfit he'd worn when he'd first met Natasha, except now he was wearing the deep-necked waistcoat that went with the storm-gray slacks. Hair smoothed and pulled back, though a few renegade strands from the top slipped out of the tie and around his ears. He tried twice to improve that, but to no avail. He almost opted for some sort of product but it always felt weird, and what if someone tried touching it later? His earlobes had reddened a little at that, and more on what sort of situation that might entail before he mentally berated himself for how absolutely stupid that was. He'd glanced at himself from as many angles as possible, fussing with the buttons, trying to figure out how many to leave open from the collar, also a familiar problem from that very first meeting.
Shit. He needed more clothes. What did that actually say about him? Natasha was classy, well put together, dealt with a hell of a lot more upper-tier people than he did. If anyone could help him expand his wardrobe she probably could. Eventually. Maybe. Honestly, he just wanted to get through dinner first.
Open collar, in the hopes that it might help him feel more comfortable. Sleeves rolled neatly a few inches below his elbows, because that made him feel more like him. Two bracelets encircling his right wrist, one silver and one a dark brown leather. Was he leaning too casual now? Should he rethink the tie?
No. He was going, dammit.
Look good? Check. Smell good? Check. Check again. Wallet. Keys. Comm. All check.
He'd cleaned out the jeep earlier that day, though that hadn't required too much work. He'd sprayed air freshener just in case, knowing that if there was a smell he'd probably adjusted to it so much he hadn't noticed. He'd actually had one of the guys at work check, swearing that they didn't smell anything at all, but it was best to be safe.
Fuck, his nerves.
It hadn't gotten much better by the time he'd gone to pick up Natasha, vaguely aware of the chime of his comm as a message came in. The information scooted out of his mind the second he saw the red dress. Hell, he even forgot dinner, remarking on how stunning she looked before his brain caught up and he opened the door for her to get inside. Nerves returned on the way, his thumbs tapping nervously against the steering wheel as he drove through the slush-covered streets. He almost missed the restaurant, another reminder of the first day they'd met. Great start to the evening.
He nearly stepped into a puddle as he slid out of the jeep, making his way around the front to open the door for her again, at least glad that it was more dry on her side. He knew about the old gesture of a gentleman tossing his coat down so his lady friend didn't get soaked, but only after he'd closed the vehicle door again. Not that it would have been relevant. Maybe if he were more Clark Gable and less Curly Howard that evening. At least he managed to get them to the restaurant entryway without any unintentional slapstick events.
"Welcome to Osteria Salina, do you have a reservation?" The polite man at the entrance asked after a quick once-over of his companion, smiling appropriately. It didn't quite reach his eyes, though Teddy hadn't exactly been expecting it to. He also couldn't blame the guy on that first part.
"For Weyland," Teddy replied, almost surprised that he hadn't needed to think about it too hard with his mind rushing the way it was. "My mother might already be here."
"You're the first," the man replied without looking, and if he'd been the one seating patrons all evening then he'd most likely be the one to know. "Would you prefer to wait for the rest of your party?"
"Sure," Teddy replied, once again not really thinking about his reply. There was seating available near the entryway, but maybe Natasha would have preferred to sit down at the table, where there was no threat of a draft from the door. It was polite though, wasn't it? To wait for everyone to get there? Still, he should have asked. "Sorry," he managed to her with a sheepish sigh of a laugh.