At Angus’s words, Remy thought intentionally of scenes that would make blood rush to her cheeks. Embarrassment did not come naturally to Remy, because like all other emotions, it had to be elicited or imitated. But thinking of what she would like to be doing with Angus right now, or maybe that guy on the other side of the bar…
One at a time, love. One at a time, Remy’s subconscious reminded her, refocusing her attention on Angus as he elaborated on his statement that his protection of her hadn’t been beyond his job description. Clearly, she was doing a good enough job of reeling Angus in on her hook, and any good fisherman knew you couldn’t catch two fish on the same line, so she needed to prioritize for the moment, or instead of getting two men, she would get none at all. Her lower abdomen ached at the thought.
“Well, thank you anyway,” Remy said coyly, brushing back a curtain of dark hair that had fallen over her shoulder, “I’m fortunate that annoying dark wizards seems to be a hobby of yours.”
This type of flattery usually made Remy sick when she was forced to witness it in other people, but she had learned over the years how important it was to make men feel needed and appreciated and all that other nonsense. Otherwise, you got nothing out of them. Angus returned her smile now, before leaning over to pick up the glass that was currently serving as a dark-wizard prison, and cast some kind of sealing charm on it before tucking it away inside his jacket. Remy raised her eyebrows at this action, but they lowered themselves quickly once Angus put a handful of galleons on the counter to pay for a replacement glass.
“Oh yes,” Remy lied smoothly, swiftly sweeping the galleons off the bar and sliding them stealthily into her pocket, “I will be sure to let Vito know that the missing glass will be replaced. He is very particular about his assets.”
But not nearly invested enough to count the glasses, Remy added privately, knowing that extra coin was going straight into her tip jar. Vito would never see it nor miss it. That was one of the greatest appeals of working for Satan’s – the place made so much money that no one ever missed a few extra galleons here or there, but they made all the difference to Remy.
Without her having to prompt him, Angus resumed their conversation, and Remy was starting to feel that soon she wouldn’t need to work nearly as hard to ensure the night ended her way. Angus was already coming back to her of his own volition; afterall, he had lost the man he had originally been seeking, and the one that had come to find him was now tucked away in a pocket. He had everything he needed to leave, and yet he had chosen to stay. Unsurprisingly, Remy was once again getting what she wanted.
“Well, I’m not particularly picky,” Remy said by way of explanation, leaning on the bar directly across from Angus and being certain to let her tank top hang loose away from her chest, “I can certainly appreciate good food when I can afford it, but I don’t require it. Whatever’s on special usually suits me just fine, though whether that is out of necessity or lack of palate I couldn’t say,” Remy added with a sly, flirtatious smile.
“Perhaps you could show me the finer side of dining sometime?” Remy suggested casually, looking up at Angus from beneath her dark eyelashes, “You know, if you were ever looking for some company to share one of those fancy dinners you cook.”