"Harper Kelly," Jo repeated, the door closing behind her with a thought. She clasped her hands, teetering for a moment, one leg, then the other as she moved inside the office. "Sounds good, Harper Kelly." So professional, so poised, so — gorgeous. From the roots of her head to the soles of her shoes: she was one that didn't need to be seen, to be seen.
Jo took in the chair, nodding, and settling in with both hands on the arms. "Oh, uh — Josephine? Jo. Please. King. My parents, a couple of real comedians." She said with all the grace of someone who'd faced the brunt of that story one too many times in her life. It was an obvious enough ploy, one more gift the universe had given her. She laid it out, all the same. Wondering where the penny would land, where the big ball would drop.
Her legs crossed, hooking at the ankles of her boots. She pressed the tips of her fingers together, once, then settled them on their second go. "So, evaluation, huh?" Lips pulled into a brief diagonal line.
It was just enough to give, throwing the doctor a line. The woman was no sucker; after all, she'd gotten where she was somehow. And having someone like Harley upstairs certainly didn't hurt none, now, did it? No, no. Of course not.
She laughed, then. Easy does it. Natural. "No pressure, right?"