Genevieve shot him a look at that, shaking her head. "An old wive's tale!" she countered. "And besides, there are potions to offset it, anyway." Which she always kept well in stock, considering she was thirty years old and still drank as if she'd just come of age. "Tonight should be for fun!"
And he could take that however he wanted.
"Come on, Mark, tell him I'm right! The season is over, both our teams played brilliantly, you guys took the cup. I say, let loose and s'amuser." And she was definitely regretting the dress now, as this would be about the time she'd climb up on a table and pull the crowd into a very loud celebration of their achievements. But this wasn't the Drunken Zebra, and these weren't the almost exclusive Magpie's fans that frequented that bar.
That seemed to manage to get a bit of a chuckle out of the Press Head. "You do deserve it," he told Oliver.
"See!" Her chin jutted up in stubborn satisfaction at being agreed with.