"Six of one, half dozen of the other," R shrugged and checked the time. He'd told Mrs. Smith that he'd take a short break every hour instead of taking lunch so he could pop back home and check on his mother, who he had simply said was "sick". It wasn't too much of a lie, all things considered. She was definitely getting worse, racing around the apartment with cleaning supplies of all kinds and ranting about how the maids were lazy and unproductive and were simply robbing them because they didn't know what they were doing and couldn't clean anything. When he'd left her she'd had a toothbrush and was on her knees scrubbing a corner in a panic.
R pushed all of that aside and gave Wan a smile. "Here, mon ami, let's go look at something. I'll teach you all about Expressionism." He held out his arm this time, rather than throw it around Wan's shoulders as he might with his other friends, since clearly that hadn't worked out so well last time.