Emilia felt a flicker of Jesse's emotions. Since she was incapable of detecting emotions other than fear or pain, for her to have felt a tickle of something, though barely even enough to identify and categorize, what the bartender was feeling was likely a distant relative of the two. That gave her pause. She knew he was tempted, but he hesitated despite the demon blood that urged him to stray from God's path. He was so determined to be good, wasn't he?
Matters would not stay that way for long. He was a fucking daemonem, not some twenty-a-dime human scum. Slightly irritated, Emilia took a copious sip of the whiskey. She downed it as delicately and easily as one did water. The ensuing burn was more than welcome. It had been some time since she'd sewn some of her wilder oats. Managing Bastian's businesses never left her with much time to spare. Perhaps that explained why Jesse wasn't taking to her bait as easily as the other fish did. Was she getting rusty?
Hell no. She was more beautiful and more darling than any other woman in the goddamned town. She was Bastian's daughter, after all. That was more than enough to put her leagues ahead of all the rest.
"Come now," she said, setting her glass down. "You can't spare a few minutes for your boss?" She was the casino's assistant manager, lest the boy forget her place. And his. "I do need to... evaluate your performance first hand."