[ Morrigan picks up where he leaves off, the rims of their glasses clinking softly. After, he takes a sip of his drink, a mirrored image to the man sitting across from him.

At the comment, he raises an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile pulling his mouth up at the corner. ]

And you're different than what I expected. Not in a bad way, of course. [ He lets his gaze drop on purpose, this time really looking. His legs really do look great in those trousers; Arthur has half a mind to ask after his tailor to thank him. ]

Trial and error. [ It's taken him painstaking time to perfect his look. ] What do you say to taking this somewhere else?

[ Private, because job details were best given behind a closed door. ]