That was the roughest entrance yet.  This last applicant showed with ease that he was comfortable speaking his mind, even though it very well could have cost him the position.  A risk for someone like him.  Christy had made sure to choose those who were more likely to need the opportunity presented rather than someone simply between jobs.  This one was the last on Max’s list of preference thanks to a lack of experience, but he had to admit that the man had balls.  He could appreciate that.  Sylvester’s voice was also pleasant.  There was the urge to sneak a little peek, but Max kept his gaze down, even ducking his head further when attention was drawn to himself.  Sylvester being suspicious was spot on, but it also might’ve invalidated his supposed objection.  For that reason alone, Max wasn’t ready to give up the game so soon.<br/><br/>Jason followed that lead, giving a calm, amused smile to the handsome man standing stunned at the entrance of the room.  While Max might not have been able to look, he himself was taking note of every little gesture, every look from those blue eyes.  It was clear that after the initial shock wore off there was a mountain of doubt left in its wake.<br/><br/>“Of course.  Mr. Riddlehart,” he spoke up, extending a hand to an open chair across from him and his fake pet.  He was silently conveying that he was going to ignore the little outburst.  “Pay no attention to Frankie.”  A gesture toward the collared neko.  “He belonged to my predecessor.  When he passed, everything was left to me.  Including…”  Another vague gesture.  “Well, you can imagine.  It’s not so uncommon, this.  The law says they are free to go, but they have no skillsets, no money, and no home.  Rest assured, he’s here under his own will.”<br/><br/>Jason was convincing enough.  He had a way of making his voice smooth and velvety, like he was an honest to god socialite and had some kind of birth right to the wealth around him.  He pulled it off better than Max, that was for damned sure.  It really was a shame that he couldn’t get the hang of art, because Max would’ve chosen him to be his mask.<br/><br/>“Now,” he continued, picking up a file folder with Sylvester’s application and skimming over it with what appeared to be a calculating eye.  “It seems here you don’t have much experience I can refer to, so I want to start with a practical test for an accurate assessment of your skills.  On the table are a few items I’ve prepared for you to evaluate and date.”