"No problem. I tend to try to be more formal if someone is worth the formality."
The walk there, across from Central Park, is slow, methodical, and wonderful. They talk and talk. About nothing. About everything. He's glad she's willing to open up, and Michael hopes for it to continue. So, maybe through choice or maybe through personal comfort, he reaches his hand and intertwines his with hers just before getting to the restaurant. It is not a ritzy place, but it is not a hole in the wall. It's just there, and the smell of food wafts through the door as Michael opens it with his open hand, smiling at Ash and motioning for her to go in first.
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