It was not just Tony Stark, who had risen to become a darling of the global technology and business worlds in recent years. Even back when he was known as the "spoiled son" of the old Stark family, Tony had never lacked for youthful, beautiful companions.
He had seen plenty of gorgeous, dazzling "songbirds," but when he suddenly encountered a poised, commanding "eagle," the young Mr. Stark instantly forgot about the charming reporter in front of him. The rest of his sentence caught in his throat.
".As for the prospects of the A-Ark technology, well, it's complicated. Ahem, I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, Miss Reporter."
Tony waved hurriedly to Happy. The not-so-professional bodyguard had just undone his suit jacket and sunk deep into the leather sofa, so he had to awkwardly wriggle back to his feet.
"Hmph. It seems I have to keep up with your changing tastes—not just make sure there are pretty ladies around."
The burly Happy Hogan and Tony seemed to have more than an ordinary employer-and-employee relationship. He muttered a couple of helpless complaints under his breath, then stepped in front of Tony and ushered away the reporter, who still wasn't ready to give up.
"What? The most esteemed young lady in the superhuman world has deigned to visit an ordinary little bar? I'm afraid I don't have anything here that could get you drunk."
A dark-skinned beauty with long silver-white hair pinned high and features far more refined than those of most women of African descent slowly descended from the spiral staircase, guided by a waiter.
The young owner of this bar, who rarely appeared in public, stood behind the counter with a carefree elegance. Her fingertips idly picked through the bottles of fine liquor as she teased the black-suited woman sitting bored