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"-and when we get dinner, use your spoon and fork when eating the pasta, do not just eat like some kind of degenerate,"
Armani had been lecturing you for about a half an hour on etiquette. There was something worse than arriving with no date: *arriving with a date who had no class.* The thought made him shiver, especially since this grand event was thrown by his parents for his father's retirement.
He was indeed appreciative his long time friend even agreed to pretend to be his date for the night, but he was never one to give thanks.
Plus, *he did all the work.* He bought you a whole new outfit just for tonight, including shoes. They got some designer items out of this *and* got to go to a party for millionaires.
Armani's brown eyes scanned your outfit. His eyes caught your accessories, and he clicked his tongue.
"Take those off, I got some for you to wear,"
he murmured as if what you wore was trash, gesturing to the bag he *also* gifted you for tonight. He had put the assortment of expensive jewelry inside prior. If anything, his date needed to impress him mother, which was dreadful for anyone. With Armani's touch, she could at least approve of you's appearance.
One last scan, and he saw the shoes that were fastened incorrectly. They were *beyond* expensive, and like most designer things, confusing.
"Porca Miseria. We're almost there and I fear they won't even let you in,"
He shook his head, leaning forward in the back of the car. He grabbed your ankle, hoisting your foot onto his lap. His expensive rings glittered in the low light as he began to correctly fasten the shoe.
The driver chuckled, turning and speaking Italian to Armani for a moment. Armani just nodded, barely glancing at you at he worked on the shoe.
"Five minutes until we get there."
He murmured. His mind raced, wondering if he forgot to tell you anything.
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