Death is not something everyone was accustomed too. After the weekend, however, there probably wouldn’t be many people left to say they were unaffected by death. Many hoped it would never touch them, but in the end, Death embraces everyone. No one could escape its grasp, even those who stand tall and see untouchable. When everything settles and all that is left are letters prepped earlier in one’s days to be sent out to any kin or blood that survive, that is when it is shown who has the fire within to move on, and who is broken by what was taken before it’s time.

Amaryllis Marika Sarantou was one of those people. Born from a Greek woman whose name and face she does not know, except that she looks like an exact copy, and a man who was absent for most of her life, off protecting a woman who paid him to be her bodyguard, and instead of coming home to take care of his child, he left her with a nanny. When the bloodbath started, Amaryllis was completely unaware anything had happened until the morning. When Barbara, the woman who raised her, woke her up in the morning, rushing her into getting her things together, that her father was dead.

The rest of the day was a blur for Amaryllis, and the only thing she was given at the end of the day, was a letter and some cash. The woman who’d raised her left just like that, seeing that she would figure things out once she read the letter. Feeling a bit put off by the woman seemingly taking off after giving the word that Detroit had been attacked and the families that had been within Detroit were all dead, her father among the fallen. Finding a bench to sit on, Amaryllis opened the letter before reading it.

Amaryllis,

I know I wasn’t the best father to you. Hell, I was barely around and left you to be raised by Barbara. I’m sorry I wasn’t around much, and by the time you read this letter there will be no chance for me to make this up to you, for I am already dead if you’re reading this. With me gone, go find Don Mastrosimone, he can make sure you have a good life. If he is gone too, you can track down Alucard, he might seem like a pain in the ass but he's a good man. He can be arrogant at times, and will probably drive you crazy, but he means well. If you don't have any luck in that area, then there’s some good people up in Philly. Find the Byrnes and see if you can make a life in Philly. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you kiddo. Take care of yourself.

Your Father,
Jason

Reading the letter over slowly, Amaryllis paused for a moment or two before crushing the paper in her hand and shoving it into her pocket. She didn’t have anywhere to go, she had two names from her father, however, and that's as much as she had to go off of. Shoving the money into her pocket as well, the young red-headed woman headed up the stairs to pack a backpack of clothes and whatever she could fit in the bag before heading out of the place she'd called home. Out on the streets of Detroit, things were like a ghost town. it was much different than all of the hustle and bustle that had been going on just the day before. How quickly things could change, in the blink of an eyeball and everything was different. She spent a good portion of her day walking around the area, finding a hotel nearby that she'd been directed to, heading inside she simply asked for a man by the name of Alucard.

The woman working the front desk seemed rather rude, but a bit upset by something as she was informed that the man had been killed in the skirmish that had fallen over all of Detroit. Feeling disappointed, but relieved that she could leave this city that felt so cursed, she used the last of what she had and bought a bus ride to Philidelphia. It would be a long trip, but she figured it would give her at least some time or what not to sleep. 

The ride up to Philly was a long one, not to mention a rough one. Amaryllis didn't quite exactly sleep as well as she had hoped to. By the time she got to Philly, it was dark outside, not even sure of what time it was until she had asked someone. Midnight. A whole day seemingly wasted as she got off the bus and looked around. It was a terrifying feeling being in a new city, knowing no one around and knowing nothing at all about the streets. Shifting the bag on her back to a more comfortable position, she started off in her search for a place that she might be able to just lay down for the night. Realizing she had no money though, put her in a bit of a tight spot, for she refused to sleep in an area that didn't have a bed. It was one thing she absolutely refused to give up. So instead she walked herself around town, quietly looking for a place that didn't have any lights on, and looked empty. After about an hour or so, there was a little convenience store that seemed perfect, walking around back off of an empty road, she found a back room that took some finagling to get into, before heading towards the cash register. She'd never done anything like this before, but she was light on her feet, and she just prayed she wouldn't get caught. Nothing was as bad as getting caught doing something you know was wrong. Getting caught meant getting into trouble. So if she could just stay out of trouble, and not get caught meant she'd have a place to sleep tonight, that wouldn't seem too bad.

Cursing as she found a screwdriver lying around somewhere, she attempted to pop out the register, trying to stay as quiet as she could before grabbing the cash from inside and shoving it into the bag. Hearing some noises coming from elsewhere, she took what she could before bolting off, slipping away into the shadows while she heard pounded relentlessly. She didn't allow it to calm down either until she was far enough away to assume she was safe enough before finding another motel, once there she grabbed a few of the bills she's taken, that were quite crumbled up and battered from their earlier abuse. The clerk didn't seem to question anything as they then handed over a room key to a room on the first floor. She thanked them quietly before retreating into the room, settling down for the night.

Over the next week, Amaryllis would sneak into a few more businesses to take some money, being careful this time to not take all of the money, but just enough that she could get by on. Not only that but as a day job, she worked as a waitress at a Greek Restuarant. She hadn't really made any headway on following her father's instructions on finding the family known as the Byrnes. She'd done a few side jobs here and there and spoken to a woman by the name of... what was it again? Apple? Apollo? Ah... Apollonia. She'd spoken to her a bit after the woman reached out about the jobs she'd done for them. She was straight with the woman in letting her know she was actually looking for someone, and last she had heard is that she would alert someone by the name of Bella Byrne that she was looking for the family. That was quite some time ago though and as far as she was aware, nothing had come from it.

Noticing that someone was being sat in her section, Amaryllis walked over, dressing in the basic uniform of a button up blouse and a black skirt, with a pair of dark flats and pantyhose. Her hair hung down in soft waves as she offered a friendly smile to the person sitting at the table in front of her. Making sure they had a menu before speaking up.

"Welcome to The Grove, I'm Amaryllis and I'll be your waitress for the day. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Merci Beaucoup Monsieur!" Roxanne politely thanked the maître d'hôtel after he showed her to her table and helped her into her seat. Her editor had made the reservations discretely so as not to alert the hotel staff of the arrival of a critic of her calibre. It was a practice she insisted on every time she visited a new establishment for official evaluation. In her mind, any restaurant could be great for one night if they knew an important guest was arriving. The true test was one which took into account all the variables of an average day and focused on the aspect of a routine meal. It was the only way to get a consistent review, something she was certain her readers had come to expect from her in Europe, something she hoped to replicate with her first book here in America.

Reaching into her bag with a gloved hand, she withdrew her silver cigarette case. Twisting the clasp, she unhooked the top and pulled one out of the neatly lined row of hand-rolled cigarettes. As she attached it to her jade cigarette holder, she noticed a small crimson stain near one end. For a moment she racked her brain to recall where it had come from as she placed the holder against her lips and ignited the cigarette. The familiar burn of the tobacco in the back of her throat jogged her memory somewhat and she remembered that she hadn't yet had a chance to clean it since her night with Eva.

The young doctor had proven delicious in every way imaginable and Roxanne still had a pleasant smile on her face as she wondered if she would find someone who might top that any time soon. Her attention was brought back to the present as a young waiter stepped close to her and offered her a menu.

Letting the smoke slowly cascade out of her nose, she sized the young woman up with an eyebrow raised in mild amusement as Roxanne watched her nervous eyes steal a few quick glances towards the silver lighter still on the table while a friendly smile stayed plastered on her face. The juxtaposition of her formal, ethical speech with the seemingly illicit desire to possess finery rampant in her blue-green eyes, piqued Roxanne's curiosity.

"Mon Dieu! That cheveux roux is just so magnifique Mon Cher. I must confess, I wonder if it is au naturel. Perhaps I should try and find out some time, non?" She teased playfully as she perused the menu briefly. "I'd like to order the specials for today and the chef's selection of an approprié wine pairing." She said and set down the menu. Watching the departing young woman, she took a quick drag of her cigarette. A sly smile appeared across her lips as she realized that now that the woman had caught her attention, she would have to use her resources to do some digging into her and figure out just what had intrigued her so. 

Roxanne had found a new prey, and she was eager to get the hunt started.

Amaryllis was a bit thrown off by the language the woman at this table was speaking. She certainly looked like she was someone important as young blueish green seemed to take in the woman. She shifted her weight from one foot to another as she felt a bit uncertain as to how to feel about what the woman's words. Something in her gut stirred restlessly as she said nothing for a moment while writing down the order the woman placed. Offering a polite smile to the woman, she tried to act like she wasnt bothered by what was said to her. 

The fact the woman had asked if something was natural, and that she would have to try and find out some time gave a good indication of what she was talking about. "I'll be right back with your drink, M'am." She looked a bit flustered as she turned and headed towards the kitchen.

Not long after she had returned with a wine glass and a bottle of chilled wine. She had been told to serve this bottle to the woman, but the name was something she couldnt pronounce. She just knew it was a dry, earty type of red wine that was supposed to go with the moussaka beautifully. After carefully pouring a glass for the woman. She once more offered another polite smile.

"Your dishes will be out shortly. Is there anything else I can get for you?"  Her voice was sweet as she shifted a bit nervously again, gathering the wine bottle up as she was going to take it back to be re-corked. After about three more minutes, there was a nice plate of Moussaka and Dolmathakia.

"Here you go M'am. Please let me know if there's anything else I can get for you."

Roxanne stayed silent in quiet contemplation despite the amused grin on her face as she saw the young waitress scuttle across from the kitchen back to her table with a bottle of Costières de Nîmes. Pleased by the selection, Roxanne asked that her compliments be conveyed to the chef. Resting her cigarette against an ashtray, she focussed her attention on the beverage before her. Clasping the stem of the glass, she brought it up to her nose and inhaled a whiff of the liquor. Her eyes closed as memories of afternoons in a seaside cottage spent in the loving embrace of a stranger resurfaced. 

A clamorous noise from one of the nearby patrons broke her reverie, and she focused her attention on the consistency of the liquid. Taking a light sip, she let the wine swirl in her mouth, savouring the taste to its fullest extent before swallowing. Though the ambience of the establishment and the cacophony created by the patrons therin was preventing her from fully appreciating her meal, the constant reappearance of the nervous yet intriguing young waitress as she nudged her way over from the kitchen to the table with arms delicately balancing the dishes, was piquing Roxanne's interest.

She watched the woman in what seemed to be her natural environment with a predatory gaze and was surprised to discover that though she lacked the interest and the diligence her peers in the profession possessed, she seemingly made up for it with grace and dexterity. A part of Roxanne was curious to find out just how agile this woman could be under more stressful circumstances.

"Here you go M'am. Please let me know if there's anything else I can get for you." The woman said politely. Roxanne took a drag from her rapidly diminishing cigarette before putting it out. Her eyes continued to pierce into the wall the woman set up behind her own. Her lips curved into a mischievous grin as she left the expensive jade holder and the silver lighter carelessly strewn across the table to see if the woman would take the bait. 

Sleight of hand though was far from enough. If the woman proved to be just a blushing, bumbling mess, this would be a failed endeavour. "There is something you can do for me mon délicieux ami. You could keep me company while I finish my meal." Pausing to gesture towards the seat across from her Roxanne reasoned. "I'm sure you won't be missed for at least a few moments. Besides, I'd love to know if there is more to you than meets the eye mon cher."

Bluish-Green eyes swiveled to lock with the woman sitting before her, shifting from one foot to the other as she felt the weight of the stair upon her. It was as if the woman was trying to stare down into her soul and read her, but that was something she tried to keep quite guarded. She didn't need people pitying her just because daddy never paid her any mind. She didn't want people's pity... she wanted the skills to survive in this world that she was not finding herself wandering about aimlessly.

She had noticed the lighter sitting on the table but figured that right at this moment wouldn't be the best of times to try and sneak it off of the table. Hearing the woman speak to her, she seemed to debate the request, glancing around the area as she realized it was a bit later and things were quite slow right now. She was ahead of the work she needed to get done at the time so she didn't think there would be any harm to come from sitting at the table with the woman. Pulling out a chair just a bit, Amaryllis moved to sit in the seat, sitting with her legs together since she was in a skirt. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly at hearing the woman ask a question before shaking her head slightly.

"My apologies M'am, but what do you mean if there's more to me than meets the eye? I'm just a young woman working at this restaurant to try and make ends meet. I wouldn't go as far as to say that there is anything special about me." She was curious as to what the woman was referring to, not to mention how there seemed to be something in her gaze that Amaryllis couldn't quite put her finger on that caused her to feel a bit put off. Not enough to leave the table but it did feel like she was being stared at with a sort of hunger. "How is your meal so far?" She knew it was an awkward conversation, but she needed to find or think of something to start a conversation that was good enough to continue and not cause any awkward feelings.

The woman appeared somewhat troubled by Roxanne's curious gaze, which did little to abate the amusement the waitress elicited from her. Risking a glance at the lighter, before gazing around, presumably to gauge if she could get away with momentarily neglecting her professional responsibilities, the woman seemed to consider the request carefully before opting to accede.

Roxanne watched her sit down and heard her response as she bit into a piece of the moussaka before washing it down with some of the wine. Pausing to dab at her lips with a napkin she allowed a dry chuckle to escape before responding. "And I'm just a rich foreigner who loves food and wine. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that I am no different from the other patrons you may have served here." Idly scratching her chin, she added. "See how difficult that is to believe mon cher? I suppose ça n'a pas d'importance. I'll find that out on my own if you're feeling timid. Though I must confess, les cheveux de feu misled me. I assumed it matched your personality."

Making a mental note to have an associate inquire about the woman's professional details as well as her nocturnal misadventures, Roxanne returned her attention to the food. Still, when she was asked about the food, she could not refrain from teasing the woman again. There was something about watching the poor girl squirm awkwardly that made her chuckle inside. "Ah, the food tastes as délicieux as you look, mon cher.  Here, why don't you try some?" Pushing the plate across the table, she offered.

Amaryllis really wasn't sure what to think of the woman's words as she simply furrowed her eyebrows before glancing down towards the dish that had been pushed towards her. She really should do this, it could get her fired, eating from a customer's plate. But with no one around, and her favorite dish towards her, she pulled out a spare set of silverware that they all carried on their aprons and used the fork to take a bite, her eyes locked on the woman in front of her. She had taken a small bit as she savored the taste in her mouth before setting down the fork. It wasn't often that she got to eat such nice tasting food, most of what she'd found was pretty crappy really.

"Not all blondes are dumb. To judge a person by their hair color seems a bit silly.. doesn't it?"

She went to stand up after setting down the fork, hearing a few shouts coming from the kitchen as she stood up, knowing that it generally meant the floor manager was going to start making his way out towards the floors to check on things. She placed her hand on the woman's wrist as she offered a polite smile. "I apologize for cutting a chat short M'am. I do hope you don't take offense in me stating that I don't look at women that way, but I appreciate the compliments you have been giving. I'll be back to check on you in a few moments, please let me know when you'd like more wine or when you'd like me to clear your plates for her." 

As she was talking her hand slid back towards herself, slipping the silver lighter into her sleeve before politely excusing herself and walking away back towards the kitchen so she could look as if she hadn't just spent the past few minutes. She stopped by other tables as well, picking up plates the customers wanted to be cleared off before gathering dessert orders and drink refills, seeming to memorize everything as she rushed around to complete the tasks. She did take a scolding from the floor manager about having disappeared for a bit.

Was the woman gullible to be led by a stranger into a compromising situation so easily? Or did she have a reckless streak buried beneath the demure facade? Roxanne was unaware, but as she watched the woman wolf down some of the food eagerly, she looked forward to unearthing the truth.

The woman made a quip about blondes, eliciting a small smile from Roxanne. As she opened her lips to respond, a commotion echoed out from the kitchen area. The waitress, anxious to get back to her work, grabbed Roxanne's wrist and offered a polite smile accompanying what was perhaps meant to be a respectful yet firm clarification about her sexuality.

Watching her depart, Roxanne finished off her glass of wine and sighed. She couldn't blame the woman for reducing the hunger in Roxanne's eyes to a primal lust. It was, despite the strange nature of it, much more plausible than the truth and thus a false conclusion anyone could draw. Still, though the woman had an aura of intrigue shrouding her, nothing particularly special jumped out during their conversation. It almost felt like the woman laked a certain je ne sais quoi. 

Disappointed, she began gathering her things only to find her silver lighter missing. Mildly confused, she checked under the table to see if she had accidentally dropped it. Her inability to locate it only confounded her further, compounded by the fact that she noticed the stubbed out cigarette in the ashtray on the table. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks and her eyes lit up in wonder. The innocent little waitress had charmed her with her awkward nervousness while palming away the piece with practised ease.

It wasn't gullibility or recklessness that made her eat the food, it was a carefully calculated con and Roxanne loved that it had duped her. The prey had taken the bait and slipped right through without springing the trap. Standing up Roxanne left some cash on the table, including a hefty tip for the waitress, with the words "Nice Pull - R" on one of the bills. As the staff was preoccupied with the floor manager and the commotion in the rear, she made a quick exit. 

With the original itinerary of her day long forgotten, she headed over to her regular information broker for some discrete inquiries about the crafty red-headed thief masquerading as the nubile yet demure waitress. 

Amaryllis had avoided the annoyed floor manager as she worked around with everyone else scurrying off to their jobs as well. The rest of the night went quietly, Amaryllis found that the French woman had left her table, leaving more than enough money to cover not only the bill but a sizeable tip. She pocketed the tip, having noticed the words on one of the bills and feeling her heart race as she stared for a few moments. There was no way the woman would have truly noticed…right? She might not have grown up learning skills of the street, but she had learned a few things since she started being on her own.

Pushing the thought from her mind she took care of the rest of her customers and worked until her shift was over before heading home that night. The next day had passed by moistly without incident and since she worked late again that night, she was exhausted while walking home. Her hair had been pulled up into a bun that was basically a braid wrapped up within itself, giving her quite a headache after all this time. Her backpack was hanging low off her shoulders as she fiddled with her hair, walking alone on the dark streets in South Philly, her hair slowly being worked out by dexterous fingers, being careful to gently undo the painful hairdo. A few bobby pins later, relief flooded through her head as her hair, not full of luxurious waves from the braid, was hanging loosely and blowing gently in the wind.

The walk went as it normally did, except that she didn’t pause to slip into one of the closed businesses to take some cash from their register, the money from her tip the other day was more than enough to keep around for the time being. Instead, she just headed straight home, not paying too much attention until she got to her door and felt as if something was different. She didn’t remember leaving a light on for herself, but maybe she had in the exhaustion from working more hours this week. Normally she allowed herself to arrive in the dark since it was easier on her eyes to come into a dark building after being out in the dark night for the twenty-minute walk home.

What she hadn’t expected was the smell of smoke to waft up to her nostrils. It smelled somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Instead, the small woman stayed by the door as she spoke softly, her eyes searching her small, cramped motel room.

“Whose there.” She had already taken a step back from the room, her calves tensing as she planned to run. She didn’t want to find a new place to stay and lose most of what she’d gathered while in town, but she couldn’t risk getting caught either. She still needed to find the Byrnes, and she’d been in town about a week or two by now with no luck… could this be it?

"Who's there?" The words came from the door where the occupant, presumably surprised to find someone present within, must have been standing hesitantly. "Just a rich foreigner who loves food and wine." Came the familiar response followed by a dry chuckle. "Surprised you haven't sold the lighter yet, I expected it to be in the hands of a fence by now."

Inside the room on the stiff bed, Roxanne lay on her belly, a short but elegant crimson dress hugging her curves. Her heels had been kicked off to the rug beside the bed, where they lay next to an unopened bottle of wine. Her legs, clad in dark pantyhose, bent at the knee as her toes aimed for the skies above. A gloved hand, propped on its elbow, supported her chin, while the other delicately clasped her lit cigarette. Her eyes remained focused on some documents spilling out of an open folder lying in front of her on the bed, held in place by the stolen silver lighter.

"Ah, but that would have been simple, and you mon cher are far from simple." She said with a sly grin as the sound of the door opening further entered her ears. Taking an idle drag of her cigarette, she pulled the file closer and began reading. "Amaryllis Marika Sarantou, daughter of the deceased bodyguard Jason Sarantou, born 20 years ago in Detroit General hospital. Spent most of her life in Detroit, but moved to Philadelphia 10 days ago. Found employment at The Grove as a waitress where she has been working the night shift for the last week. Had minimal contact with Race Street Entertainment. Has been involved in some petty theft since her arrival. No prior arrests or convictions. Yet for some reason happens to be very interested in finding the whereabouts of the Byrnes."

Finally looking up into the eyes of the woman that now stood in the room Roxanne smiled mischievously. "I thought you said there was nothing special about you ma délicieuse petite amie. You told me not to judge you by the wildness of your hair colour, which may I just say, Mon Dieu! Looks even better now. Effréné et malicieux." Tucking a strand of her own raven locks behind her ear, she sat up and swung her legs around toll she had them dangling of the edge. Inhaling the intoxicating smoke of the tobacco she watched cracks appear in the walls hidden beneath the woman's eyes. "Tell me, mon cher, what am I to do with you?"

Though she teased the poor girl, her mind was already made up. Roxanne would introduce the woman to Isabella-Luciano. They obviously had some unresolved issues to take care of. Isabella, may just be thankful for a talented young associate sent her way and Amaryllis, finally able to meet the people she had been seeking, may just be extremely grateful too. Earning a favour from both her boss and this intriguing stranger, seemed like a deliciously intriguing prospect.

It wasn’t the response back that caused her to freeze, nor the smell. It was the voice. A voice she’d only heard once before, but there was absolutely no mistaking who that voice belonged to. It wasn’t hard to picture the face of the French woman who had come in to eat at The Grove a few days prior, the same woman she had stolen the lighter from. Glancing at the piles of documents and folders laying in front of her, she’d been busy these past few days. She shifted slightly as she stepped inside a bit, her hand still on the doorknob in case she felt the need to bolt out and shut the door behind her to slow this woman down. Yet, something was keeping her from doing that. Was it the fact that this woman had mentioned her father? Or the fact that she’d found out quite a bit of basic information about her? Just who was she… and why was one lighter so worth looking into.

Blue eyes watched the woman in front of her, almost as if debating if she should run or not. Part of her argued that this woman had too easily found out things about her, and part of her was intrigued to find out just who in the hell she had stolen from to cause them to look this much into her. She shifted into the room a bit more, still allowing her an exit from the room if she needed to. Hearing the woman ask what she was to do with her, she furrowed her brows a bit more, her eyes watching with utmost curiosity and wariness. 

"Why don't you tell me who you are first... and why stealing a lighter made you dig into who I was... and who the hell is Race Street Entertainment. I don't know anything about that." Her mind had been running through things at quite a rapid pace that it all but skidded to a stop as she realized this woman had mentioned the last name 'Byrne'. How did she know she was looking for her... was she the woman she was looking for. "Are you apart of the Byrne family?" She didn't realize just the depth of the question she was asking, for in her young mind she was thinking of a legit family whose last name was Byrne. "How did you find all of this out... "

Chuckling aloud, Roxanne responded impishly. "Mon Dieu! For a supposedly simple creature, you sure have a lot of questions." Sliding off the bed she did an over the top courtesy. "Roxanne LeRoux, socialite extraordinaire, at your service Mademoiselle." Taking a drag of the cigarette, she subtly retreated towards the bedside as she continued. "There! We are étrangers..uh, strangers no longer. Perhaps you'll be a little more receptive to me now instead of just staring at me like you want to eat me alive." 

The irony of the statement was not lost on Roxanne as she nodded over her shoulder to the unopened bottle of wine. "I came bearing gifts mon cher, but I must confess I am disappointed by your mauvaise hospitalité." Passing by her barefoot, Roxanne slid into a chair, completely at ease in the seemingly unfamiliar surroundings. "Is that how you treat all your guests? Or just the pretty ones that intimidate you?" She added with a wink, trying to keep the atmosphere playful instead of letting the young woman go on the defensive and get overly suspicious of Roxanne's intentions. 

"Relax mon délicieux ami, the lighter has valeur sentimentale. I could not bear to part with it. Besides, you had intrigued me far too much to let you just disappear into the void." Leaning back, she placed an elbow against the rear-rest and took another drag of the rapidly diminishing cigarette as she elaborated. "Finding you was très facile. I am surprised someone audacieux enough to steal from an associer of the local mob, would be better at hiding herself. Or did you want to be found?"

Pausing to consider the possibility with an eyebrow cocked up in amusement, Roxanne stubbed out her cigarette against the ill-plastered wall of the cramped motel room fate had brought her to this evening. "In any event," She began in an exhausted tone as if the events of the day had tired her and this conversation had exasperated her further. "I have what I came for." Replacing the lighter and the files into her purse, she walked over to her heretofore discarded heels and put them on. "The wine I leave as compensation for breaking in and as a memory of this misdemeanour."

Gathering her things, she took a couple reluctant steps towards the door in faux disappointment, before stopping. Turning her piercing gaze to the woman's blue eyes, she whispered. "Or I could stay and tell you how to contact the Byrnes, perhaps even write you a letter of introduction to get you past the bodyguards with ease. But that mon cher," Letting the sly smile she had been trying to suppress break out in its entirety, she continued. "Will cost you."

She was young and inexperienced in the workings of the world, so to be faced with something she’d never really grown up learning about, there were things that tended to leave some misunderstandings, not to mention a learning curve. The young redhead watched the woman as she moved about the room, listening to the words she was saying. Stepping into the room and shutting the door slightly, she sighed softly, finding that the woman was maybe not going to be a danger to her, of course, she was still on edge, she was in an unknown place and had to go off of basic survival instincts in order to stay alive. There was no one who had really taught her about the workings of the underworld. She’d been taught basic schooling, a few hobbies and how to cook. If one could call it cooking. Other than that she only had the nights she’d snuck out to explore the world. She knew the mob existed, but she didn’t know anything about the inner workings of it or what any of its unspoken rules were. Nor how to really deal with them. So now that she was here in Philly… It was like walking blind through an area rigged with traps and having to find the path of least danger.

She didn’t really have anything to say to the woman, that is… until she started walking towards the door. Hearing the offering of how she could learn to contact the Byrne’s was something she knew she couldn’t pass up. Maybe the would have the answers to the questions as to why her father would leave her a note to lead her here. “Wait…” She gently reached out to grab the woman’s arm, letting her blue eyes look at the piercing gaze in front of her. “Please… I don’t have any other way of finding the answers to questions I have…” She seemed to really think over what it was she was about to ask. “Please… just tell me what the price is..”

Without turning back, Roxanne smiled as she heard the woman's plea for help. She was always going to assist, but having succeeded in her ploy, she could tease the woman further and watch her squirm so more. She wasn't entirely certain whether it was schadenfreude or just some friendly good-natured ribbing, that caused her to torment the poor girl. The possibility that she believed to be true at the moment was related to her curiosity about the woman's reaction to unfamiliar and uncomfortable situations. She was poking and prodding the turtle's shell to see if it would try to snap at her fingers.

"2 things. D'abord, talented as you are mon cher, it would not be long before you find yourself in une position d'influence. You will have access to knowledge that a common associate may not." Turning around she stood with a stoic expression on her face as she elaborated. "Fret not mon ami, I will not ask you to spy on your bienfaiteurs. Mon Dieu! I am not cruel. All I ask is that if you and I ever find ourselves on côtés opposés d'une guerre, opposite sides of a war, you offer me the same thing I will offer you now. An opportunity to sit down and talk with my boss."

Tossing her purse on the bed, Roxanne let her stoic demeanour crack and a mischievous grin slip past. "The second, et chose plus importante it will cost you," Pausing to face the woman she took two tentative steps forward and considerably closed the distance between them. Her hands remained visibly raised by her side to reassure the woman that she was seemingly defenceless. A gloved hand came forward to push a stray lock of wild red hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek, now stained crimson, on its way back. "A dance."

"I am partial to tango, but" Gesturing dismissively to the cramped surroundings, she added with a shrug "I guess I'll make do with a waltz."

Her hands came back behind her in a delicate clasp, giving her lithe body an elegant, innocent structure. But her eyes, the dark pools of mischief, betrayed her wicked desires.

The things that were told to her didn't seem like that heavy of a price to pay. Of course, the first one was not something she even knew if she could do. It sounded like a strange thing to ask of someone who was so new to this world. The second one, however, was simple. A dance, if that was indeed all Roxanne was asking for, it was a simple request and seemed to be easy enough to fulfill. The young woman closed the door fully before turning to Roxanne, noticing how elegant and innocent she looked. Though the eyes betrayed something different, of what it was fully she did not know. 

"The first request, I'm honestly not sure if I could ever be in a position where I could ask such a thing, I barely know anything of this world. For that I cannot give a promise to... just a loosely given, I'll try." She took a single step towards the mischievous woman, blue eyes watching her movements. "A dance, however, that I can promise to. I've never really learned how to dance, but it seems like a simple enough request." She thought for a moment once more, holding out her hand. "Do you give your word... based off my reply... that you will help me contact them. I...I don't even know anything about them, to be honest... just there name in a letter..." 

She waited patiently to see what the woman would say or do.

Roxanne accepted the woman's outstretched hand in her own gloved embrace. Leading her own with a tender tug, she twirled her around till they were face to face. "Une promesse sincère, is all I care about." She whispered huskily as she placed the woman's hand on her shoulder and stepped in close. Towering above this familiar stranger, Roxanne closed her eyes and took a long whiff. The perfume the woman wore, mixed with the scent of her skin, intoxicated Roxanne. The fingers of her now idle hand, travelled inwards from across the woman's forearm, to her shoulder and along her spine in a tender caress, seemingly leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Something tells me you're not one for broken promises, mon cher." She said and nudged the woman closer.

Her eyes fluttered open, greeted by the sight of the beautiful face she had been admiring from afar, now inches from her own. Biting her own lip to keep from plunging her teeth into the exposed neck before her, bathed in pale fluorescent light, she clasped the woman's free hand in her own and began to move. "Je t'assure, I will get you in a room with one of them. What they do for you or to you once you're there, c'est à toi de voir." She sensed some trepidation at her words, or perhaps she was merely uncomfortable about their proximity. 

With a reassuring smile, she turned her head to the side so they were cheek to cheek. Roxanne could feel the woman's nervous breath upon her neck as her own warm exhale descended upon the waitress. "Se détendre mon cher, you're doing good so far. Just follow my lead. Let my arms guide you and let your feet follow through gracefully." She whispered softly in her ear. The woman noticeably improved and Roxanne nearly squealed in delight before offering her a well-deserved compliment. Not just a pretty face, but an eager learner as well. Roxanne was either thoroughly impressed by her potential or utterly seduced by a facade. Either way, she was invested in this woman's development at least until Roxanne's interest in her did not wane or she did not find a different muse.

Humming an old French tune, she moved along rhythmically for some time, just enjoying herself and this simple, timeless moment she had found herself in with this intriguing creature. Finally, she drew back and gazed into the woman's eyes and stopped moving. "La madame will be difficult, she keeps a busy schedule and may not be patient enough to hear you out. GavinByrne, the old wolf might prove much more amenable to your words et donc easier to approach. After all," Pausing to bring her hand up along the woman's spine to toy with one of her flaming locks, Roxanne continued with a mischievous grin. "No man can resist a une beauté aux cheveux rouge sauvage."

Retreating slowly towards the door, she picked up her purse again. Holding the door open, she peered over her shoulder and said. "Enjoy the wine, I'll be in touch soon." As the words left her lips, she walked off into the shadowy darkness of the midnight.