Lad? Ned thought as he remembered the Time to Loot crew. Anita... He shook his head.
"Master Claire?" Ned asked.
"On point," Master Claire said. Hoarse, almost guttural but frank. "Something to eat? I don't judge people by their appearances, but my food ain't cheap."
"Food, yes," Ned said under his low voice, "and job."
"Job?" He cocked his veteran eyebrow. "I'm not hiring. My ladies were enough to clean Forgotten Pint. I have enough hand in the kitchen, and my rooms were always furnished by them."
"As a Porter," Ned said. Sitting on the high chair in front of the hardwood bar. Menus were written in dark ink stacked to Ned's right.
"I see," Master Claire said, running his eye to Ned. Examining him up and down. "Mikee! You need a porter?"
