She creates a second pass so the first look can become a pattern
The first time she crosses his view, it can be blamed on the room. Too crowded, too loud, somebody moving a chair, a friend pulling her past the bar.
The second time is different. She comes back through the same little strip of space with no obvious errand. Maybe she checks the mirror behind him. Maybe she reaches for a napkin she could have grabbed before. She does not have to look straight at him. In fact, she may make a point of not doing it.
That is the cover. If he noticed the first pass, the repeat gives him something to work with without handing him a signed invitation.
The adjustment is timed for his eyes, not her comfort
A strap that bothers her gets fixed all night. A strap touched once, right after his eyes land there, is doing a different job.
It might be a necklace centered with two fingers, hair moved off one shoulder, lipstick checked in the black glass of her phone. Small things. Easy to deny. That is why they work in a room full of people.
She gives him somewhere to look, then goes right back to laughing at whatever her friend said. If the friend catches it and hides a smile in her drink, the message probably landed.
