Amira let the moment linger, the faintest curve of real amusement touching her lips, rare, unguarded, and gone almost as quickly as it appeared. She swirled the ice in her glass, the soft clink a quiet rhythm against the low hum of the room. The emerald sleeves of her suit caught the light with every subtle movement, sharp and deliberate like everything about her.
"A dive bar?" she echoed, one brow lifting ever so slightly as her gaze slid back to him. "In this outfit?" Her lips curved, just enough to suggest she was entertained. "That's a bold assumption, Mr. Vance."
He didn't miss a beat.
"It's Leo," he corrected easily, leaning back against the polished mahogany bar as he belonged there just as much as she did, maybe more. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes… his eyes were anything but casual. They tracked, noted, and understood.
"And I noticed you've checked the exit signs four times in the last ten minutes."
