Tommy -is- shocked by the lawyers choice in drink. Isla less so...shocked isn't the word...turned on -maybe? She looks at the other woman, swallowing hard confirming -turned on- as the emotion at large.   She tries not to giggle and grin like a school girl when Megan comments on her name..then compliments her ...hair? It was a rather odd thing for a straight laced dame like this to compliment...but it only enticed her more.  The messengers heart is nearly fluttering out of her chest she's so happy- and she decides mentally- she needs to cut it back.<br/><br/>This was the hunt. There was no room for insecurity , no room for uncertainty, as Megan had ample chances to leave if she was just right out creeped out..sure it was a total lie  what Tommy had said, but it kept her here. And inspite of his HORRIBLE description of the events..she stayed. In Islas mind that made the lawyer as good as tied to her bedposts.  She was in.   Granted..she'd never in a million years force the issue or become an annoyance..but for such an odd little creature, she was rather charming with her air of slight over confidence to mask her bumbling inner self.  She just had to take off her nerdpants and roll up her Mistress gloves.<br/><br/>She could do this.<br/><br/>She turns in her chair and gives Megan a sly, confident grin , her tongue rolling over her bottom lip to taste the last of her whiskey. "Thankyou Megan.." she almost purrs the lawyers name- but not in a manner that comes off as overtly sexual, but rather in a way that comes off with a hint of mystery.  Slightly knowing.  She grins sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she smiles wide and lets her eyelids roll close, "I like your...." she raises her brow, what to compliment? She couldn't very well say everything she liked about the woman..not yet at least.  Face? Hair? Glasses? AH! Glasses! "I like your....seeing apparatus there." she points to her own face where glasses would be. "I've not worn them my self for damn near 10 years now..contacts while a marvelous thing..just can't compare with a lady who can pull off glasses."  She lets one leg drape over the other and leans her elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her hand. She squints, and asks a innocent question..that had -slightly- devious intentions. "Can you see much with out them? Or are you Velma Dinkley from Scooby Doo? Cause if you're the latter..I can get Tommy some pot, and a comically nervous Great Dane..."<br/><br/>Her smile broadens and she gives the 'stranger' a little playful wink. She points to the drink in the lawyers hand, "Another Whiskey aficionado? It must be my lucky night...I suppose I can split the bottle of Jamison with you if you promise to let me buy you a couple of fingers worth of Johnny Walker blue later.."  She downs the rest of her whiskey, and places the bottle between them, keeping her fingers on the bottle neck. "Tommy didn't give you rot-gut did he?"<br/><br/>The messengers tone is light and playful, with a certain allure that she -only- let out to play when it was time to turn on the charm.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>