Annie beamed. His words might not have been much more than you'd expect from your boss who was taking you out to dinner to pseudo-celebrate how long you'd survived his employ, but his stare and removal of the sunglasses said much more.
"Thank you kindly." She accepted the glass and sank back into the leather. One thing that she would never stop loving, or taking for granted really, was the way that money could buy the best in comfort. The leather was soft and the seats practically wrapped around her. If she had chairs like this in her apartment, she'd never leave home. Ever.
Annie sipped at the wine, slowly. More because she wasn't really a wine drinker and didn't know what to expect than she was actually being polite about it. When the flavor hit her tongue and she discovered she liked it, she had another sip, somewhat longer.
"Just in case you're wondering, don't let anybody come at you with something called an eyelash curler." She looked at her hand. Her nails looked nice now, but she was sure that what had happened to them was a form of torture in some countries. "Or a cuticle pusher."