The fact that she had suggested drinking together at a future encounter, which was hardly in the realm of things proper young men and women did together, solidified Ben's idea that this girl was far from the average rich pureblood lady. He still didn't know much of her actual background (aside from the rather scattered bits she'd just shared, plus the fact that he'd met her twice now without the burden of a chaperone, which said a lot in and of itself), but this was more his kind of girl. Someone who could talk and be un-selfconscious about it, and not always wondering what society would think. The sort of person that he'd thought Ellory Pendergast was, deep down. He'd been wrong about that, though, it seemed. Whatever glimpse he thought he'd gotten of her in Mexico wasn't who she really was, and it turned out she wanted all the same things that every other proper young woman wanted, and had the same expectations. There was that word again, expectations.

"You can drink with me any time," he offered with a grin. "And I'll try and remember your name next time we run in to each other."