“The pleasure is definitely mine.” Mary inclined her head. She might have curtsied if she wasn’t in the front of a queue, or if she knew how to do so without looking ridiculous. “Massachusetts. The infamous Salem, if you can believe it.” The town wasn’t really remarkable to her, but she knew that others tended to have some reaction to the home of Witch Hunts: some good, some bad. At least she could say that she wasn’t from the middle of nowhere, USA. “That is, if you’ve heard of it -- I hate being presumptuous.”
Mary’s coffee would take just a little longer, enough time to add the proper flavoring and sugar. Truth be told, she hadn’t expected Killian to linger much longer, but she was delighted that he did so. She smiled, genuinely this time, at the flair of his delivery of the card. Taking it in her hand, she ran a finger along the edge, looking over the embossed text. “We do have a way of making things sound more sleazy, don’t we?” Of all the professions she could have picked for Killian, a PI was the last one she would have imagined. It wasn’t every day that a person actually met an investigator without seeking them out first. “Is this just your business line?”