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Enteinne, who was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth unless said gift horse was wearing a ribbon someplace mighty uncomfortable, was both happy for his sister and feeling very untrusting of their hosts. A job was a wonderful thing and Alisa had hardly any feelings of nervousness coming off her as she walked in with Nick. Heck, if he hadn't any contact with her emotions, he might have even said she was feeling a little sweet on the man. But a an offer to stay someplace with people they'd only for all of what? forty-five minutes? an hour? and they hadn't even met everyone that lived in the shared rental space? That sent a red flag right through him. Plenty of well meaning folk had made that same kind of offer to him over the years. But even the most well meaning had some sort of expectations. He'd have to talk with Alisa about it later. In private. Back home.

So Enteinne let the comment slide past him for the immediate, no need to get into that kind of talk in front of folks they don't know from Adam, "Dat's a good job. Extra pay be nice ta have, oui?"

As Irina walked in, Enteinne pulled his feet in so he wasn't taking up so much space in the kitchen. There was plenty of room for people to go around if they wanted, but habits were habits.

He nodded at her and smiled, licking his lips and tilting his head to the side, slipping into a flirt like a model changes clothes: easily and with great frequency, "Bonjour mam'selle. J'mapelle Enteinne et ma seour, Alisa. My name's Enteinne, my sister is Alisa. An it be lunch we bein' served. Dinner not til after six."

Not being very well educated, he had no idea that some countries, 'lunch' was referred to as 'dinner' and what he equated with 'dinner' was known as 'supper'. Or that many people used them interhangably. He thought he was displaying a right sense of intelligence in explaining that lunch was being served to the woman with an accent that clearly marked her as a foreigner.