"Hey, buying you gaudy ornaments is my job, remember?" She leans in just a little, the better to pull him close and cup a hand around the back of his neck as his head rests on her shoulder. "Besides. He's an old cop. No imagination. He'd buy you something really plain and you wouldn't be happy with it. Take the drink, it's a better plan."

Though maybe not just this moment. "Someone's bound to ask about our sex life," she allows, fingers drifting up into his hair. "I work with a bunch of nosy reporters, we're not escaping any such gathering without someone going there. We'll need a good story. Come home. You can tell everyone all about that time I took advantage of you being drunk and did absolutely filthy things to you."

Shameless ploy to get him off this stool? Perhaps.