Rook hums under his breath as an answer as they put down the last chairs. Instead of following his new boss' gaze over the bar, he looks at that pretty profile and thinks about the fact that Ulysse used to dance. It seems fitting. Rook would pay to watch that body move, sure, even if he doesn't quite understand anything about artsy sports.

"Sure," he murmurs as he slips behind the bar without asking any permissions. He works here now, doesn't he? "What do you want, boss?" he asks as he is looking for glasses, picking something fairly small that you usually get a club soda in.

Next he rummages around a bit in the drawers and finds a fork, putting it on top of the wrapped up gumbo on the counter. "Do you want me to warm that up for you?"