Lia's laugh was warm and genuine, and carried through the living room as she walked toward the piano, running her fingers lightly over the dark surface. "Either you're as sweet as you are cute or you're really, really good at this. But no, I'm not tall enough to be a model," she told him with a bit of a cheeky grin as she walked around the piano, watching him all the while. Cute was an understatement, but a man as good looking as he was had to know it, and so wouldn't benefit much from excessive compliments, most likely. She peeked under the piano to see if his errant keys were there, but no such luck.
"I hear Berklee has a great program, but I've never been a huge fan of Boston," she told him, giving him a half smile as she moved further into his home, looking around a stack of boxes almost as tall as she was. "But then, I'm a New Yorker at heart, so I'm probably biased."
He was a creative type. She liked that; while most people probably wouldn't consider Lia's line of work creative, exactly, she felt an affinity for artists, and had always enjoyed their company. There was also another sense underlying the natural inclination she felt to like him, that same sense she had with Samuel, and more recently Rylee, and in fact, many people she'd met at Pax -- that inexplicable sense of connection. In Luc's case, it felt like warmth, some spark of memory, or maybe just something of a kindred spirit. Something like that. She couldn't quite put her finger on it -- it was different than what she felt with Samuel and Rylee, but at the same time...
"I'm an advice columnist," she said, walking over to the dining room table. "And I host a weekly radio call-in show where I offer advice on sex, love, and relationships."
Just then, she saw a glimmer from under one of the dining room chairs. Gracefully, she stooped down and scooped up her prize, walking over to him to dangle the keys in front of him.