Mike had arrived before the order placed earlier was even ready. This was no big surprise, really. Mike Chilton was known for being early or late, rarely on time. There were a few people around who apparently thought him being on time was a myth.

Antonio sought to provide him with a glass of water while he waited, which was taken gratefully and kept at hand. Between the robust Italian, Jacob, and Death, he was certain he was staying hydrated, fed, and rested. Or at least the first two. He was still working on that last one.

The low voice directed at him caught his attention, brown eyes snapping up toward the Amazon. A quirked tired smile was offered with a raised hand. He had no intent to be anything but friendly, as evidenced by the small joke that followed.