After a moment's consideration, Pia set the book down and stood up, slipping her purse over her shoulder but leaving her book and comestibles, her way of marking her territory. She made a circuitous route, past the coffee bar and would have grabbed some napkins if his gaze followed her, but he didn't. So instead she walked over behind the artist, watching him draw for a moment. As she peered over his shoulder, her smile spread minutely wider. Pia had been photographed before, but no one had taken the time to draw her. (At least that she knew of.) It was a new species of compliment, and it pleased her.
She leaned further forward, so that if the artist turned his head, they'd be face to face.
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