Chad said, pulling open the door and gesturing for Shannon to walk in before him. “Plus the staff is really nice.” They rode the subway downtown to Tribeca, passing Chad’s apartment building on the way to Mario’s Italian Bistro. Chad explained that although it was a lovely, intimate spot with cloth napkins and candlelight, they were fine in jeans as most of the clientele went casual. The smell of garlic hit his nose the minute he stepped into the main dining area. “Ah, Mr. Clarkson, how are you this evening,” an older man with a thick Italian accent called out. “Table for two?” “Hi there, Mario,” Chad replied. “Yes, please. This is my friend and co-worker, Shannon,” he added by way of an introduction. “You have very beautiful eyes,” Mario commented, smiling into Shannon’s face. He walked to a two-seater table by the wall and pulled out a chair for her.
