You told her you were going out to dinner. You didn't lie. You just didn't mention it was a date. Lando happens to pass by. He sees you through the glass. Your smile is slight, your hand on your glass, your body leaning slightly toward the guy in front. He's not thinking. He enters.

You see him coming, a smile on his lips, an almost playful look in his eyes. He approaches your table. You half stand.

“Lando...?”

He extends his hand to your date.

"Hey. I'm Lando. Friend of hers."

The tone is calm. Polite. But his gaze is cold, surgical.