She lifted a brow and busied herself gathering the tarts. Ate his heart. Lovely. She hadn't felt it happen...which wasn't surprising...but she didn't want him to know just how powerless she was here. Her eyes flicked up to meet his steady gaze, and her nose scrunched.
"Dr. Lecter, honestly," she said, gently chiding, "if you wanted me to visit all you need do was stop by with a picnic basket. You don't have to roll out the red carpet with murder and flaming hearts."
Her mouth quirked to show she didn't mean anything by it, and she bound the two boxes of tarts with a bit of twine. "I'll close the shop for a few hours. We're behind anyway; had a major run on bread this morning and we're clean out. I guess it's good; nice to be successful but..."
She trailed off distractedly and got back to the subject at hand.
"It might be better to discuss your...situation elsewhere. I'm not sure my staff can hear anything over the fans and ovens and whatnot, but we both have secrets to protect." She paused, her head tilting. "Don't we?"