Letting out a little squeak at the sudden voice behind her, Florence started and almost dropped the grill before she managed to get control of herself again. This was bad. This was very bad. Jack was nearby, but Walter... she didn't know if he was armed, or if he'd really shoot someone who wasn't a part in this. Well, she certainly had her suspicions about the latter but in the moment, the only thing she could think to do was stall.

"I'm fond of it. Care to come inside for a drink, Walter, I imagine we have a lot of catching up to do." She didn't know what he wanted. Why her? Why now? It wasn't as if she were part of Anatoly's life anymore.