And the victory to Valerie. Though she hid her amused grin behind the White Russian glass - now empty following her latest sip, her body language became slightly more relaxed, leaning back against the booth and casually tossing her elbow atop the booth back, her hand dangling over the air. Loathe as she was to use such crude methods - she was sure that didn't count as 'negging' as the term went, but it was close enough. But sometimes one had to play a bit dirty to illicit a response. And if there was one thing Valerie was good at, it was playing dirty. 

Granted her playing dirty tended to involve donning a mask, a form-fitting cyber suit, and potential loss of human lives. 

"Is that right?" Valerie asked towards Brian, though without looking at him or even lifting a finger to acknowledge his statement. "Well, that's probably for the best. Between us, I like having a bit more to grab onto when it comes to the ass." Her response came as she was pouring herself a glass of Cristal. She flirted with the idea of pouring for the other two, but instead slid the bucket towards Brian. She wasn't a server. 

Valerie was in mid-sip of the chilled champagne when Amelia scooted closer, sealing the victory in Valerie's eyes. Their skin was making contact. Granted, it was just their arms, but it was still contact. "Oh, but your friend made all the announcements and introductions for me. And he's right, you know, about the groupie thing. So many men and women practically start kissing my feet as I walk just because they think I can put them into a television show or something. As if that's how it works." Valerie shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh before returning to her regular mood. "I'm not looking for a groupie. And I meant what I said earlier. I'm not a celebrity. There's a difference between a celebrity and a media mogul. Next time you're downtown, look up. You'll see a building with the Cartier Communications logo on it. That's mine. The building." 

It probably came out like a boast, though that certainly wasn't her intention. The truth had a tendency to sound like boasting when it involved money and ownership of skyscrapers. For her final act, Valerie turned her head and leaned in to Amelia's ear, closer than Amelia had been; not touching, but enough for Amelia to feel the warmth of Valerie's breath. "Hate to dance. Count me in."