The same force that made him ask when Dov'd eaten only intensified when Elias first saw how the kid responded to Charlie -- and then how Dov responded to the offer for dinner. It. Hurt. The pain - not compassion, not pity, but pain - was what surprised Elias more than even Charlie's outrage. Lately, he felt protective over certain strangers that should have meant nothing to him. But unlike Charlie, this one wasn't resistant. This one actually accepted ... even asked, in his way. No, he had no reason to care. But. He. Did.
When Charlie stepped into Elias' personal space, Elias remained an unmovable wall. He stared down hard at the little firecracker, nothing in his face betraying his emotions -- save that ice-green stare that could have started fires.
"You told me that you sent him away, so clearly he is, as you said, none of your business, either. He --" Elias jabbed an index finger in Dov's general direction, "--told me he hasn't eaten in a day. He--" Elias twisted his wrist emphatically, still pointing toward the New Yorker, "--told me he would join me for dinner tonight. And he --" Elias set his hand far-too-calmly back at his side, "-- told me he was stranded here, not that it's any of your business. As for me, I have given you my apologies for quite clearly inconveniencing you with a matter it would seem is far beyond your desire to address. And, as it seems you are bound for work, I will excuse myself from your presence. Now."
And although the words said that he was excusing himself, the tone said that Charlie was excused. With that, Elias turned his back on Charlie and focused instead on the kid from New York. "Shall we?" he asked, waving an arm briefly toward the far side of the lobby, where the main exit waited.
Behind him, he had the sense that Charlie was ready to draw a weapon on him or Dov or both.