You were finally there, at that damn charity party at the Garrison... Michael had already found out your name, age and even home address: yet he had the opportunity to talk to you without attracting attention only now. He looked for a moment before pretending to "accidentally" bump into you in the crowd: enough violently to make you spill your drink. A simple plan, but effective.

"Ah, I'm so sorry!" He started, badly pretending to be mortified.