"I wouldn't waste my money on the good stuff just to throw it in your face," Marie assured him. The drink she ordered was likely a kind he'd never heard of before. The particular brand of alcohol it took to make it didn't exist in Hightown. Mac made it in the back. It was, to be frank, the best damn mead that 1950s Lucetiville could come up with. Marie just wished Mac didn't insist on serving it at room temperature.

She certainly didn't plan on staying and talking with Tony Stark's corporate attorney. It would mess too much with her fond hope that Loki wouldn't recognize her in the office. After all, he'd never paid her any particular attention before, and she was well aware that she looked and acted very differently outside of the office. Even her mannerisms were more free here. But she did have to stay to make sure his drink was delivered, so there was probably about the space of a minute where Marie likely would not walk away.