Jonathan's face showed such recognition, and a touch of shock, before he smoothed it over, glancing down to Enigma who was sitting up, sliding her glasses from her nose as she stared at the blond. He raised his eyes again, giving her his most professional...and utterly fake smile. “Ms. Lance, what can I do for you?”
Enigma slipped off the desk, moving back towards Jonathan, sliding a hand behind her back, her fingers resting on the golden cane tucked into the back of her skirt. Jonathan reached out, gripping her wrist in his long fingers, keeping her still Enigma's head whipped around and she looked at him, frowning as he shook his head.