Hands in the pockets of his blue trousers, Roch sauntered into the reception foyer looking as though he hadn't a care in the world when in actuality he had at least 99 problems (the British invasion was only one, and relatively low priority all things considered). He approached the group and used his younger brother as a leaning post, casually resting his arm on Luc's shoulder.

And then, when he was sure that they were all looking at him, instead of saying anything he simply smiled calmly, an observer might even be forgiven for thinking the delicate curl of his lips was angelic. His presence was enough confirmation that all was as well as could be expected - better even, because he had it under control. Roch Vayssière was an expert at making the best of a bad situation. That isn't to say he wasn't angry about how things had gone, but panic did not lead to profit, and he intended to profit greatly.