She smiled as he rose, taking her glass with him, and poured the drink himself. "Mabel Filibuster," she said. "I only tell people to bugger off I'm certain I won't need them in the future. She's very rich, you know, and contributes to a number of causes. Her husband died three years ago, though, and she's handed the business over to her son. He's a pixie-dust fiend who's never had to manage money in his life. She talked about it for three hours."
Her fingers closed around the glass and then he kissed her, soft but insistent, and there was definitely something needy about him today, just under the surface.
"I think she might have told me all of it so you'd offer to buy Filibuster's out. But no old woman is getting her claws in you but me." He smiled around his glass, she took a drink from her own. He glanced at the box on the table, just quickly.
All right, she'd bite. "Something for me?" she asked.