Xander looked after her.<em>Well damn...</em>he thought. Eh, the list would keep, and knowing the mindless rich most would just stand there and wait... but this was his job, the thing he was told to do. Then his mother's Spanish flame popped up<em>Fuck it...</em>He walked up the stairs slowly, praying that this was no bullshit joke and knocked politely before opening the door and proffering his whiskey.<br/><br/>"Whiskey?" he asked, redundantly.