"Apart from the few auditions he's accepted," Mike said, pushing the chair in as Ms. Lane sat, "You're the only one so far."
He considered, then discarded, the idea of telling her that the manager had needed a good bit of convincing to take Ms. Lane's interview. In the grand scheme of things, he didn't need to impress this woman. Erik did. The Opera House did. But Mike Deal, Executive Assistant... He knew better than to think more highly of himself than he should. There was never any benefit to that.
He'd also caught her glance toward the tea. She'd probably made all the wrong assumptions. It was up to him to set them right. "I don't know much about him, personally. He doesn't eat or drink in front of anyone," and as he spoke, he circled around to pour her tea. "And he seems to have come from a less modern time than our own. I hope you will forgive his ... peculiarities, Ms. Lane. His management has already been the best I've seen in my years here. Sugar?"
He pinched a cube of the stuff in tiny metal tongs and held it questioningly over the silver bowl where others lay waiting to be used.