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The blonde dips her head once more in a subtle nod of acknowledgement. Of course she knows that Dolores is leaving--it's all anyone has talked about since the woman announced her engagement. Pretty much everyone has been jockeying for a chance to take Dolores's place. Imogen included. It was a friendly competition, of course, but there is no denying that Imogen definitely stepped up the charm. Typically demure and modest, the young woman allowed herself to access the confidence and charisma she once possessed whenever, wherever.<br/>
<br/>
A slight smile dances at the edges of her lips, stormy eyes glittering with pleasure. Imogen is reserved, not stoic. There is no mask to disguise what she feels, only careful moderation of her own emotional response. Dion's toying does not appear to affect her, for it would have shown within the swirling grey depths of her eyes. Only a simple, honest sort of pride softens the lines of her face. She worked hard to even be considered for this position. There is no shame in ambition, in harboring a desire to do better, be <i>more</i>. The same tragic accident that killed her parents and robbed her of her talent also greatly diminished her confidence. However, Imogen still remembers the taste of knowing she earned exactly what she achieved. No lies were necessary. No subterfuge required. Only Imogen in her truest form.<br/>
<br/>
Where pride once sparkled, the grey of her eyes darkens in confusion; a thunderstorm rumbling on the distant horizon. Though her expression remains composed, there is no hiding the befuddled tilt of her head. <i>They think I'm hiding something?</i> A single, thick brow arches in response. Panic begins to gnaw at the edges of her subconscious, threatening to drown her in doubt; but she wisely chooses to set aside her own fears. Her gaze finds Dion's first before flickering over to observe Gany's expression. Something akin to a challenge flickers across her features. Let them ask if they truly suspect anything. She has no secrets. One must only ask the right question.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Are they a part of the mafia, or something?</i> Imogen finds herself thinking toward the conclusion of Gany's speech. No, that's unlikely. There is too much Greek motif in the establishment for this to be a front for the mafia. It's not unusual for private clubs such as this one to emphasize discretion when it comes to the patrons. However, Gany's insistence that her silence is necessary makes her question whether or not something bigger than just a fancy club is going on here. <i>Stop worrying about it</i>, she reminds herself. Dion clearly treats his business with reverence and passion. She does not believe a man like that would harbor criminal activity within his prized establishment. <br/>
<br/>
Satisfied that her trust in Gany and Dion outweighed the strange allusions to organized criminal activity, Imogen gives a nod in acknowledgement. She returns Gany's smile in kind. <b>"Of course, sir. I don't believe that using discretion would be difficult for me." </b>As interesting as secrets are, Imogen has no business in spreading them. She has far more important things to accomplish rather than sticking her nose in other people's business. <b>"Is there anything else about this position that I should know?"</b>​</div>