Her slender, precise digits rolled a 15,000 credit coin left, then right. Left, right, Left right. It didn't slow between the conclusion of each trip, instead gaining in speed and deft handling. She was never one to idly or compulsively fidget out of necessity or habit; she had no use for such things in earnest. She was luring the right type of someone. Astute enough to notice the denomination even at its increasingly blurred speed, while not being so well fed or bred as to avoid the compulsion to take an interest.
Such an observant patron would also notice the condensation around her glass pooling into a ring that must have taken hours to form. One might assume from the volume of what was still clearly her first glass that evaporation was partaking more of the libation than she was.
One would safely assume, then, that she had thus far been unsuccessful in luring a tablemate– until one took a look at the fabric of the seat across from her, indented and twisted outward in a steep curl. At least one denizen had recently, confidently taken a seat before abruptly turning tail and absconding.