Hearing that sweet voice, Jack turned to look at her and found himself struck dumb for the moment. He hadn't expected her to dress up, not that it was formal, but it was very flattering. He smiled brightly and gave a nod, then raised both brows.
"You look great. Really suits you," he said, glancing down briefly at the novel in his hands, Dashiell Hammett's The Maltese Falcon, and back, "Oh, it was good. I'm still pretending I don't understand why it was suggested to me, though. Kind of cheeky of the guy. So, let me check this out and we can head to the cafeteria?"
He would have offer his arm like a gentleman, but they weren't so thrilled about him doing things like that. Instead, Jack just walked slowly so she could up.
"Ever read this one? I know they made a movie, might've saw it but I can't remember."