He was being sarcastic. Your look was not professional. You were staring. The kind of stared where your mouth was slightly open and you completely forgot ginger ale could spill if you tilted the glass.

You finally tear your gaze away. Long enough to blink, to breathe, to realize Sam was watching you with that familiar expression. The one that said he was filing this away for future blackmail.

You turn. It's a woman you don't recognize. Blonde, sharp suit, amused smile. She was holding champagne like she meant it.

She offers a small, amused tip of her glass toward the direction of Bucky Barnes.