Logan thought that was surely a smile to warm a man's heart. He was also trying and failing to place her accent. There hadn't been much call for Canadian armed forces around the Caribbean in any of his tours of duty, so it wasn't like any accent he could identify. The closest he could think of was a couple of New Orleans mulatto kids he'd met while stationed in Iraq in '91, but Louisiana Creole and Caribbean Creole could be very different. Sometimes it was different enough just from island to island within the Caribbean.
"I did," he replied. There was no denying that Logan would only remember a semblance of manners around a lady, especially if the lady in question was also a pretty girl. He gave her a lopsided grin and added, "As did everyone. I'm thinking a lot of folks are gonna be wanting to hang around the kitchen at four AM from now on." He snorted softly. "You'd best be thinking of hiring an assistant."
Logan knew just barely enough passing French to be able to make out what was being said. Despite being Canadian by birth, he knew a lot more Japanese thanks to his martial arts training than he ever did French. "Joëlle," he repeated. "That sure is a pretty name, Joëlle. Welcome to the Haven." The man was almost smiling, his expression pleasant, a fact that was not lost on the few remaining stragglers in the kitchen. In fact, one girl's eyes widened comically when she saw his face like that, as if she wasn't sure it wasn't going to crack from the effort, or possibly usher in the end of the world or something.