He really doesn't know, does he? That's some small relief, though the quiet snort she lets out is more exasperated than anything else. So, he managed to figure out her scrupulously hidden identity and snag her phone number, but is unaware of what she actually does. Christ.

She could tell him.

It's not without risk - he must have something going on, to have found her in the first place - but if he had a way of sussing out the extent of her powers without her telling him, he'd have done it already.

Getting here was difficult. Making sure this conversation didn't actually happen will be easy.

"You want to know how I found you?" She leans against the back of her chair and gives him a maddeningly blasé shrug of her own. See how he likes it. "Trial and error. Weeks of it." She gives that a moment to sink in, then leans forward again. "But you started this. And if you don't want me to finish it, you'll answer my goddamn question."