Donovan's eyes don't bug out, but it's a near thing. His collar is as loose as it will ever get without undoing a button, and so he struggles to bear in heat rising up his neck with equanimity - get a hold of yourself, Davidson, you're not sixteen. He's not quite sure what it is about her that gets to him like this, but the corporate lawyer in him is confident whatever color reaches his cheeks can be safely blamed on the whisky.
"Well." He starts, and has to stop and surreptitiously clear his throat. Yeah, business can wait. In fact, business probably should wait, the nature of the discussion is getting a little sensitive. "Well, Nodoka, I appreciate your enthusiasm." And certain other attributes. "But this really isn't the venue for business planning." Donnie flashes her that brilliant smile again, and waves over their waiter once again. "Another round for the lady and myself," he says, slipping the man a $500 c-bill. He's feeling generous tonight. "This ought to cover it - consider the rest your tip."
He waits for the drinks, grinning. "I know someplace we could negotiate undisturbed - but before that," and there they are, evidently money up front motivates part-timers like nothing else, "a toast - to us. For space is wide, and good friends are too few."
