Smiling sheepishly, Christopher gave her hand a reassuring squeeze (although he had trouble deciding who he was trying to reassure), "Thanks." Then he added jokingly with a nonchalant wave at a random page, currently showing a (quite ugly) portrait of a rather plump looking witch trying to undress seductively, and failing pretty hard, "You sure? Don't you think that would make a rather tasteful addition to our living room?"
"Just because it's free doesn't mean I'm all over it," Christopher teased back. He hadn't drank since his first sip of wine back during his sixteenth birthday, when he decided that whatever experience that all the other kids seemed to be getting from alcohol, he wasn't privileged. All the liquid ever gave him was intense headaches and parched throat, which was decidedly not worth the effort in the first place. Sally-Ann didn't drink all that much either, so the only options for this bottle was to let it sit and turn into vinegar, or to give it to his parents.
"Did you come over with your boss?" Christopher asked.