Approval. Something he usually doesn't hear until the other person across the table figures out that a huge salary comes with working with something that in truth could be used a weapon if treated wrong. "I'll have to read that article. Or I should start paying attention to by lines," he chuckles.<br/><br/>He knows something is up when she opens her purse to shut her phone off and her eyes go wide. He's hoping her work doesn't call her to often at eight thirty at night for anything other than an emergency. His hearing picks up quite clearly the other end of the conversation, but he doesn't let on that his alarms bells are going off as well.<br/><br/>He rises to shake her hand before she goes and gives her a dashing smile. He doubts that it's cultist that made the journalists vanish though. He is the oldest vampire within the city, not the only one. Before she goes, he pulls his wallet out of his jacket pocket and gives her his business card that also happens to have his personal cell number on it. "I understand. No need to let panic spread out of control."<br/><br/>That doesn't mean he couldn't follow her and establish her work place as a check point. If it is vampire activity, he would make sure to make it known to the sirelings that it's part of his hunting grounds. Also meaning the people within, while they're in the building, are his prey.