"You got it," she says, smiling. She lingers for a moment, watching him. Watching his hands and the way he moves. He's always been an odd mixture of elegant confidence and bumbling awkwardness. Most people put it down to his obvious disability, but the longer she's known him, the less she is sure of that.

She holds the secret belief that everyone, even the most powerful men and women in the world, are secretly ten years old on the inside. That we were all just children trying to muddle our way through an increasingly complex and confusing landscape of responsibility and desire and fear. Matt isn't exempt from that theory.

She just can't tell whether that ten year old is the awkward side, or the competent, almost ruthless side she catches glimpses of from time to time.

"They didn't take reservations, so no rush. Anything I can help you with?"