"Vodka martini, please," she said, keeping it simple. No need for an especially girly drink when she's trying to project a professional persona. Harley would have ordered a redheaded slut, especially if Ivy was around.

"He's not in the psych business," she said, "at least...not this end of it. You probably know him." It was a calculated risk, but she wanted Crane to trust her. She looked at her nails. "Mister J doesn't care what I do in my free time." Not entirely true. He might be a bit annoyed if he thought she was getting a life of her own. She was never sure, the way he ran hot and cold. "Oh, I know all about that. It's what makes you the ideal partner."

She smirked ever so slightly. "I like colorful reputations, Dr. Crane," she said with a shrug. "Monotone gets old." She was already enjoying this. "They aren't going to be looking for you, you know? It's like this is a whole different world."