Ah, that sort of rich family, he thought. His family was really well off, though not absurdly rich. After all, his father was in construction, which wasn't quite socially acceptable enough, anyway, though of course his money was good. "But of course. Like most sports," he said when she mentioned the staff. He'd been dropped off a fair number of times at baseball and football, though he'd never personally cared for team sports. He'd done it because you were supposed to, though. "That's too bad, though."
"Oh, I'm not complaining, unless some ax murderer gets drunk, anyway. I was wondering what I might have tonight, myself." Maybe a good smoky whiskey to nurse while he watched people in the courtyard. He tilted his head--now that he thought about it, he could think of at least two ways to kill someone with a pair of ballet slippers. He opened his mouth to muse it, and then decided it probably wasn't a publicly acceptable topic of conversation in a building full of criminals, even if it probably would be taken jokingly in the outside world. "I'm sure someone could, yes," he agreed, shaking his head slightly, lips turned up at the corners.