"What? Were you hiding from me or something?" Maddox goads on when Santi open the door to his place, two coffees and breakfast sandwiches in hand. Peering at his best friend from behind his sunglasses, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Or did you just want to avoid my prosecutor-level interrogation when I ask about your date?"

The downside of staying with your estranged sister? Instead of the comforts of Brooklyn, filled with everything from Amelia's favorite shawarma spot to the best bagels, she's forced to eat at places like this. Amazing culinary experiences, to be sure, but a price tag so outrageous it's sickening. Still, Amelia's starving. Another long, late night at the office trying to make sense of every tragedy. There's one spot left, right at the bar.

Of course, it's him. Alfie takes up space in this fine dining restaurant like he owns it, grinning and breathing life to it. There's a jolt in her body, somewhere between residual affection and annoyance, as she stops. Deciding that no, she won't be the first to break the silence, Amelia slips into the bar seat beside Alfie wordlessly. "Just a glass of house red, please." She nods at the bartender.

"What if we just fucked right off to the Maldives right now?" They celebrate their old friend the only way Maddox knows how. With a bottle of very expensive scotch, shortly after he and Santiago wrap up their respective work days. Romeo's loss is hard felt by those in the mafia, especially by those who grew up with him as a friend. At this point, the waves of grief happen so constantly that Maddox is sure they will never get out from under it. "Hop on a private jet, charter a yacht, and just.. Leave all this behind?"

Determination, pride and perhaps a spark of far too much ambition had led to Leah standing in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for a stew she was going to make. The offer of an evening just to catch up had been left to air in the room, a choice made to pause the stew adventures should he accept. "Really, it's no problem to continue this later. I'll box it up. I could make some popcorn." If popcorn fit the occasion. Given the recent stuns, both good and bad the most mundane things suddenly seemed worthy of being question on that matter.

"I think we've earned ourselves a late morning, hm?" Genevieve couldn't believe her own words as they flowed out of her mouth and still, true to statement she very much intended to have a late morning. "Name one person in that little clinic that isn't overworked. And you, you walk right into that hospital on top of that." Not that she could make such calls for anyone but herself. Still, a party on an island did seem like a good reason to do so.

"You seem to be having a good time." Val's voice carried softly as she stopped next to the man, one of the many detectives that had crossed her path. "At least you appear to be having a good time. Am I wrong about that?" Ever the curious one, ever the one with the questions even on a night like this.

It takes her about forty-five minutes to figure out that Dev is running interference. Everytime they almost round a corner, one glance at who she assumes is one of his sisters is all it takes. Fortunately, Amelia realizes there's no point in being offended. This thing between them is casual, sprung from a therapist office of all places. Not exactly the love story you take home to your sisters. She's in the women's washroom, freshening up and twiddling with her mask. "These things are a pain." She complains to the masked woman who comes up beside her. "It keeps falling down my eyes."

"I don't care what your political consultants tell you. There is such a thing as shit publicity." Never one to bite her tongue, least of all when it comes to matters of public interest. She's ensconced New York's favorite, liberal politician for coffee and 'real talk.' "And yeah, a few nut jobs is acceptable in the sphere of public life. But when they make a lot of noise?" She kisses the roof of her tongue, with a small shake of her head. "Don't worry, I can give you cover. Do a Sunday profile on you, what you do for the community..." Except unlike other fluff pieces her servitude at The Reserve forces her to do, this is one she believes in.