The family name Dempsey didn't ring a bell, which was surprising given her frequent snoops into her sisters' calling cards. Though now that he divulged himself as a prospective supporter, Soph understood why the company owner kept glancing their way. She could see the beads of sweat on his brow from clear across the room. Perhaps this gentleman had some kind of reputation (or notoriety?), a notion tickled her curiosity. 

Of course, the company owner and Sophia wanted the same thing - to see their company grow and flourish as a cultural mecca in London, which could only be supported by ticket sales and patrons. But they wanted it for different reasons... And well, Sophia was the type who liked to play with her food when she was little.

Stimulating, was it? The brunette quirked a delicate eyebrow at the intimation, though her smile remained unperturbed. "Oh yes, Mister Dempsey. As with any professional, I take great lengths to consistently provide an immaculate performance for my audience."

Sophia took another small sip of her drink, and moved deftly to the left so that Mister Dempsey's back rotated towards the company owner, and her own slight frame became obscured from the owner's view. This was done mostly out of spite, rather than any kind of concern over what he may see. Really, when would that man learn that he could trust her?

"And I daresay, for a novice balletomane, you seem to have a strong intuition about the art," she resumed, eyes scanning him appreciatively. "You've perceived the pure physicality and eroticism at the very heart of ballet. For me, dance is about joy in the body, a celebration of the absolute limits one can reach... Something that can only be experienced first-hand, as words alone could never capture it. Would you like to see up close?" Before he could answer, she tapped her index finger on his lapel with a smirk. "Nothing perverse, only a silly party trick, I can perform it right here." She glanced around, already seeking her target.

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