Rook watches him, pale eyes observant as he lets his gaze take in the amusement, the quiet laughter that he doubts is all that common occurrence and lastly the almost demure but not lowering of that gaze. Ulysse tells a story with each of those and Rook finds that he is an avid listener.

"You're welcome," he says easily, head tilting a bit as he leans on the counter and stares at his boss, feeling as if he's gravitating towards this man's orbit and the force pulling him in is both unexpected and strong.

Club soda, he plunks a few ice into his own glass and tops those with some bubbles. Taking a sip he still is watching Ulysse over the lip of the glass.

"How is it? The gumbo?"