Ford's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Fisk was already moving on — Dorian Fisk, anyway. Leonid Fisk was asking him questions he didn't have any good answer to.

"I'm alright," he said, tucking his free hand deep into his pocket as though he thought it might find some other way to betray how he was feeling. "Just a little tense, I guess. I'll be fine," he said, moving to the seat farthest away from where Fisk had gone to work on the stained glass window. He could just wait this out, whether or not Fisk's scheme with the stained glass worked. He'd be fine. He just needed to put a little distance between the two of them, and not do anything else that gave the game away.