After Reine pulled on her last remaining set of clean clothes, they walked downstairs to the dining room together. Several of the mansion's residents were already seated for breakfast.
"You've met Kenzi Sato and Morgan Pendle," Max confirmed, pointing to the two young women sitting next to each other on the near end of the table. "They're our resident social workers, if you will. Whether you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to help you get some perspective, they're your girls."
They exchanged quick smiles before he continued, "That's Mikey Vega, our tech wiz."
The boy sitting across from them was sporting dreadlocks, but Reine had been mistaken about the covering on his face. What she thought was a mask last night turned out to be a port-wine stain birthmark shading the left side of his whole head.
"What's up," Mikey mumbled, too distracted by whatever he was doing on his smartphone to really pay attention.
"Hey," she replied in a similarly curt manner.
Not wasting time, Max continued the introductions. Walking past the two girls, he stopped behind the next chair. "This is Dodger. He's not good for much, but he sure as hell is entertaining."
Dodger was the same man Morgan pointed out the night before as being dressed in a Venetian Carnevale costume. His clothing this morning also didn't disappoint. Reine recognized the fur-lined, red velvet cloak of the Gonfaloniere of Justice, the standard bearer in Florence's government during the Renaissance. However, the heavy apparel looked oddly out of place on Dodger's short, thin frame. The colors also clashed with his tanned, leathery skin and slicked-back, hay toned hair.
He rose from his seat and took her hand in his. "Benvenuta, Signora. Come sta?" He greeted her formally in her native tongue.
"Bene, grazie. Piacere! Is today a special day?" She referred to his outfit.
"Every day we're alive is special." He bowed theatrically, making everyone in the room laugh except for Max.
"Oh for God's sakes, can you give it a rest?" He slapped the middle-aged man on the back. "You know as well as I do why you really play dress-up. Go on, tell her."
When Dodger hesitated, Max continued, "You see, darling, Dodger has been around for so long, that no one – including himself – remembers who he is or where he comes from. So he puts on these get-ups with the hopes of one perhaps jogging his memory."
"Laugh all you want Captain, but I know it'll work," Dodger said with a pout.
"Maybe so, but you might as well take this one off since you're much too uncouth to be a Florentine. Perhaps a Gaul or a Celt." Max joined in the laughter and took the seat at the head of the table.
Looking at Reine, he gestured toward the chair on his left. "Very well then. This is your spot now, my dear."
"And where am I to sit?" The low, silky voice came from the doorway.
Reine didn't need to see its source to recognize it. She did turn her head, only to quickly regret it. The woman by the door – dressed head to toe again in black – made her just as uncomfortable as she did the night before.
Sylvana moved gracefully into the room, all the while looking at Reine with unhidden contempt. Max, however, addressed her seemed like he either ignored it or didn't care. "The one next to Mikey is free, Syl."
"I'll move over," Reine offered, pointing to another empty chair between her and Sylvana. Although that would mean sitting directly next to the vile woman, she'd rather make the concession than be on her bad side. "There's no need to make her give up her place for me."
Max shook his head. "That one is also taken. No, you stay here, and she'll move."
His tone was decisive so Reine reluctantly sat down. As Sylvana pulled her chair out, a fuzzy, gray ball of fur looked up with sleepy eyes. Reine could swear she saw a look of anger flash across the other woman's face, but if the feeling was real, then Sylvana hid it well.
"Come here, Frankie," she cooed, before gently lifting and then holding the cat to her chest.
The feline saw through the woman's pretenses. Squirming to free himself, he made three red claw marks on her arm before leaping to the floor and running under the table.
"You freaking beast!" Sylvana shrieked, watching the gashes almost instantaneously disappear. Noticing Max's look of disapproval, however, she quickly sat down, but not before Reine unwittingly giggled.
She couldn't help herself, and even though the sight of the cat one-upping Sylvana made her extremely happy, Reine was embarrassed by her childish reaction. To make up for it, she attempted some light conversation to show the woman she didn't mean for any ill-will.
"So, Sylvana." She began, as every pair of eyes in the room suddenly focused on her. "Max just got done introducing everyone. I'm curious. What do you do around here?"
The other woman casually nodded in Max's direction and smirked. "Him. At least until you showed up."
Reine was left speechless, and apart from Mikey who nearly choked on his orange juice, no one else acknowledged the inappropriateness of the comment. Max even acted like she didn't say anything at all as he put his napkin in his lap. "I know yesterday was a short day because of the celebration, but did anything happen that I need to know about? Morgan, you got anything?"
"We still have some problems with that housewife from NYC. I'm sure you remember her. It's been almost a year since she's renewed, but she still hasn't adjusted. Can't seem to find her purpose." The girl pushed her scrambled eggs around on her plate.
"Where is this novice now?" Max poured himself some coffee from a silver pot.
"Orlando," Morgansaid before she took a bite of toast. "Kenzi and I going to head down there next week to talk to her again."
Max nodded. "Good. If that doesn't work, just bring her up here for a while. I don't want her out there alone without any support if she's vulnerable. Dodger?" He shifted the inquiry to the next person around the table before sipping his drink.
"Nothing, boss." He shook his head. "Spent most of yesterday babysitting our houseguests."
"Fine. I do have a new assignment for you I'd like to discuss later. We've got a perennial who's started playing Russian roulette. It's going to end badly if we don't step in." He wiped his mouth with his napkin and turned toward Mikey. "I'm sure you've been busy, as always."
The boy finally put his phone down. "Maryland's got a new security feature on state issued IDs. Hologram and a chip."
Max cocked an eyebrow. "So how long did it take you to replicate it?"
"Day and a half." The boy smirked. "We should be able to get them in production within two weeks for anyone who needs a replacement."
Max laughed. "You're getting slow!"
"He would have been done a lot quicker if he hadn't been playing those damn video games when he should have been working." Dodger chimed in.
Mikey, however, didn't take his ribbing so easily. "Those damn games are what helped me get so good at what I do, old man." He glared.
As usual, Max had the final word. "All right, you two. Enough. Let's finish eating. We've got work to do," he said.
He didn't ask Sylvana for an update, which could only mean two things. Either he was with her or she'd given him a report privately. Neither option made Reine happy, but she continued to keep this to herself.
They were quietly eating when Mal entered the room and headed straight for Max. Bending down, he whispered something in his ear before sitting between Sylvana and Mikey.
Although Reine caught a few words, seeing a brief look of concern on Max's face compelled her to be polite. "Is everything okay?"
He took a bite of his bagel before answering. "We've confirmed that there's no one by the name of Jameela Singh with Interpol."
"I'm not surprised," she blurted out, but he seemed to be in agreement.
"I'm not either. But it just makes our work that much harder. No worries, we'll take care of it in due time." He closed out the subject much too quickly for Reine's liking, but she guessed he wasn't the type to dwell on things.
Although she was hungry, Reine didn't want to tempt fate so she avoided much of the lavish breakfast offerings. She finished her plain toast and coffee in silence, listening to everyone else casually chat about the events of the previous evening. They really were like a family. A very strange, haphazard family, but a family nonetheless.
"They're ready, sir." The voice came behind her. Turning around, Reine recognized the butler from the night before. He was standing at a door she hadn't noticed.
"Thank you, Connor." Max rose from his chair. "Everyone ready? Let's get this over with."
As the others began to leave their seats, Reine instinctively started to tidy up her place setting. Noticing her actions, Max reached over and grabbed her hand. "There's no need, darling. I pay people to do that for us. However, I am going to have to ask you to skip this."
She nodded and watched as the others gathered around the side door. As Connor opened it to let them through, she recognized the room where the party had been held. Unlike the night before, today the curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows were drawn open to let in the morning sun.
The raised pedestal was still at the rear of the room, but instead of dining tables, there was only a single, high-backed chair at its center. Most of the guests from the party were also standing in a semicircle facing it, so it was definitely a place of importance. Without question, the chair was for Max.
Before the butler shut the door, Reine briefly glimpsed a young man with tousled blonde hair and a nasty bruise on his cheek standing in front of the group. His hands were defiantly shoved in his pockets.