"Brett, take a seat. I'm in need of interesting company."
He glances around your table. No one else has heard you. "I'm afraid that's not possible while I'm working. No booze allowed."
"Then take a seat, because I'm in need of protection."
He smiles. "Three of my men are protecting you at this very moment. No, Ms. Jones has given me strict orders for this evening. No deviation is allowed."
"I'm your boss's boss," you say. "She won't touch you if I tell her not to."
"You don't know Ms. Jones very well," says Brett. "More likely, she'd smile sweetly and do exactly as you asked, but then find a half dozen ways to torture me anyway, all without me ever being sure she was responsible. No, I'll have to get back to work." He pauses then, and smiles. "But maybe I'll join you for a drink later."