The difference between her garb and her demeanor was almost garish, Carlo noted idly, as he watched her drape herself across the chair and toss a hand out with a barely contained smirk. Contrary to popular belief he was actually quite an intelligent man, and he saw her for what she was before she reached the table--an enforcer, dressed up pretty and sent to do her job incognito. It wouldn't do to have her running about dressed for battle, so here she was playing the diplomat. Between her mannerisms and her lack of jewelry, the only thing that really surprised him was that she wasn't squirming in her suit.<br/><br/>For a moment it looked as though he wouldn't take her hand, but he gave in and reached out to grasp it. His grip was surprisingly strong, all things considered, and his hands surprisingly soft. As he leaned back in the booth, he allowed the waiter to bring out the caprese, which didn't require deep frying. Working the tongs in the mix deftly, he slid some of the tomato and mozarella mix onto his plate before motioning the waiter to bring her one as well. It was fresh and smelled excellent, though he didn't wait for her to dig in. He did, however, make a habit of swallowing before he spoke.<br/><br/>"Your people," he said a bit pointedly, "are none of my concern. I know enough about you to know that it is best that I don't know more." A plate and silverware arrived for her, the waiter casting her a narrowed glance before he backed himself off. He wasn't a brilliant waiter, but they paid him more for the six foot five of muscle than for his ability to balance a tray. "As I have taken pains to remain outside the realm of your concern, I must admit I am curious as to what brought you here."