Itachi had taken care, this day. He'd made sure his apartment was acceptable-Itachi was not a messy person but he'd needed to catch up on dishes and straighten the laundry hamper in the bathroom-and spent most of the afternoon cooking. Nothing fancy-Itachi was by no means a chef-but something that wasn't likely to offend even delicate tastes.
Cornish game hens stuffed with something sweet, but only just, and baked just so. Veggies. Wine. And cupcakes-yes, cupcakes. He'd long since forgotten what they were called but remembered how to make them-dark chocolate batter with a cheese cake batter smacked in the center to give it a rich and creamy taste. He'd set it all out under heat lamps to keep it warm, straightened his shirt (Silk and buttoned up the front, offset by his blue jeans and bomber jacket), and headed out.
And, much to his surprise, he was nervous. And excited. He enjoyed the Hyuga's company more than he would like to let on and was looking forward to taking up his evening and night with the mundane. Dinner, wine, talk, chess maybe, if it came to that. A movie, perhaps. He would happily take Neji somewhere in town if staying in wasn't up to his taste.
Upon arriving at the hotel, he had lingered in the car, wondering if he should call but decided against it. If he had to go find Neji, he would just ask the front desk and wait.
And it only occured to Itachi as he pushed through the doors and saw Neji to wonder if Sasuke had extended the details of what Itachi wanted Neji for.