“Oh, you'd be surprised,” she said with a grin, crossing a leg over the other under the table, accidentally brushing him with her boot. She frowned, looking under the table to adjust her legs so that she didn't hit him, before giving him another smile. “Sorry, didn't mean to play footsie there,” she said.
She sipped the water on the table, making a face at the staleness. “And how do you know the coffee isn't poisoned? It could be slow acting,” she said, resting her chin in her hand, watching him with interest, keen to learn everything about him.
She blamed her father's detective genes for that one, having the urge to discover everyone and everything's secrets. It was annoying as hell, especially considering how few people enjoyed their secrets being ferreted out, even if she never revealed what she knew to anyone.