It usually wouldn't slip by Crabb that she didn't answer the question about how she managed to lose her money, but luckily for Erin the effect of lips against her knuckles is instantaneous cessation of all ability to pay attention to little details like that.

Look closely enough and Masters may appear the faintest bit amused, before he's busy pouring and passing Erin her drink.

Crabb snaps out of it about the moment the glass clinks against the bar and coughs, hand tucking into her lap. Christ, is this what Americans are like? "...this uh. This ain't how things go in Gallery. Usually. Just, y'know. So you know, or whatever."