"Not terribly, to be honest." Emile replied, flagging down the bartender. "I hope you like rum. This place carries the best."<br/><br/>The accent had caught him rather off guard, but Emile kept his cool. He thought she might be faking it, but he couldn't be sure, nor could he imagine why--unless she wasn't supposed to be there. Emile had been known to adopt an accent to get out of a bind.<br/><br/>"As for Albright, we used to do business together, but the way I hear it he's fallen on hard times. Good to know the establishment hasn't suffered much though. It's as lively as I remember." He returned to sipping the rum. His pockets were getting lighter, but he figured it wasn't a waste if he enjoyed one of his last days as a free man in the company of a lovely girl. Still, there was another feeling he just couldn't shake. "I must apologize though, have we met? You seem familiar, but I suppose I should introduce myself anyway. My name is Nicolas."<br/><br/>Emile held his hand out expectantly to shake hers. It felt strange to use that name again, but it would have been unwise to start throwing around his real name.