He shrugged, and it almost felt natural. "Jazz, country, folk, samba, reggae, big band, some pop. I listen to whatever sounds good. He pulls them int a gravel parking lot in front of a small vine covered brick building. "And this would be Ada's."<br/><br/>Once he parks, he once again gets the door for her before leading the way into the establishment. The poor hostess looks about ready to pass out on the spot when he mentions the reservations for Ethan and Cleo. Apparently she must be new here, he thinks to himself. None the less, the poor young woman shows them to his usual spot. The tables in a corner, lit romantically by a candle stuck in an old wine bottle and already set with silverware, napkins and menus. He pulls the chair out for her, a true gentleman even if he is rather sick and twisted usually.