Clearly not expecting anyone to come along at this hour, Sitwell almost fell out of his chair at the sound of her voice in his panicked scramble to jump respectfully to his feet. He did crush his delicate fruit-flower in his hand, dripping juice and honey into his palm, which he tried to hide by tucking it behind his back as he gave an equally awkward bow then regretted it, grimacing at his own choice as he straightened and considered recovery strategies. Drowning in the lake sounded effective.
"Ms. van Dyne," he greeted, cleared his throat then finally raised his (slightly less messy) hand to apologize for not taking hers. He did manage to grin with pride to say, "All in a day's work," then invited her to help herself with a wave, saying, "Please. Anything you want, I would be happy to please you." Happy to please you?