A thin smile, pale and sharp, turned Rufus' lips; reached his eyes as frost edges up a pane of glass. He didn't look away from Maria, nostrils flaring slightly as though he scented her unease, and he answered Reno in a tone to match his smile. "Don't you trust me?" Oh, we'll talk.
After a beat, he addressed the woman under his glare. "I'm sure your desire to 'forget' is sincere, but I'm also sure it's not in my best interests. You understand. But I don't hold what you're doing here against you." His tone was masterfully sincere, unaffected; weighted with a grudging concession to reason that could— and had, many a time —convince suspicious liars and attentive businessmen that Rufus ShinRa's given self-interest would work to their own benefit— if only they trusted him this once. His eyes warned her to sleep lightly at night. "There's no reason this encounter must cause anyone trouble. An agreement can be reached." The President's stare lingered on the woman a moment longer, then snapped, hawk-like, to L.
The sharp edge rose beneath the silk sheath of his voice. "Ours is a simple misunderstanding. I do apologize for attacking you, but I'm sure you can understand why I reacted in such a way," he raised a reasonable eyebrow, "how it may have seemed to me that I was the one being attacked. Yes?" And if he was "confused" about the order of events, the head wound he'd hinted at would help cover that.
He looked to the empty room and gestured to the tables, asking, tone wearily sardonic, "Shall we sit and be civilized?"