Pippi walks a little ahead of the group, and greets the approaching cat, a black-and-white shorthair. Pippi and the new cat do a brief head tap, and then, after a look backwards at April, Pippi starts to head off with the new cat back towards the main complex. 

"—oh. Bye, Pippi," she says, trying and failing not to sound disappointed.

Pippi turns and meows softly at April, then turns back to go with the shorthair. 

"Don't worry," Morrison tells her. "She'll be back with you in a few hours. That's the head of the Feline Intelligence Division. Pippi needs to be debriefed." 

But what if I want to snuggle her instead no, stop that. C'mon, April, you've never been like this about any of your other friends and there's no call to start now.

She doesn't say anything.

Morrison's attention is back on the approaching man, to whom she holds out her arms with a smile. He returns the smile, raises his own arms, and the two fall into a hug. 

"April, this is Joseph Williams," Morrison says, once they're done hugging. "And aside from being the best dancer on Saint Genevieve, he's also the general manager for Albany Hospitality here. That means he runs the place." 

"Well now," he says. "We both know that's not true. I don't run the place. I'm just responsible for all of it." 

"He runs the place," Morrison responds. "Don't let him tell you otherwise. Joe, this is April." 

"Ms. Turnberry," he says. "Welcome to Jenny's Bay and Saint Genevieve. And allow me to offer you condolences on the passing of your uncle Jake." 

"Seems more like I should be offering condolences to all of you."

"Thank you," he says. "All of us here appreciate it. And we're all looking forward to working with you, Ms. Turnberry." 

"Can't imagine why."

"Your uncle picked you personally for the position," he says. "And even if your management style is nothing like his, from what I hear you're probably just as brilliant as he is, and we can use your expertise." 

"I was just telling April about the dolphins," Morrison says. 

He cocks his head. "Did you now? Did you tell her of our woes?" 

"Where the hell have you been hearing I'm brilliant? —we didn't get to the point of any woes, she just said some vaguely threatening things about them while I made faces."

"From Pippi, at least partly," he says. "Though we have other sources as well, of course. And your uncle has some insight into your family. Had some," he adds after a moment. He shakes off the feeling. "The dolphins are thinking about going on strike," he adds, to change the subject. 

"...well, what are their demands?"

"Mostly they don't think they're being treated well enough, but they always think that," Williams says. "You can go talk to them if you'd like." 

"Maybe we should give April an overview first," Morrison suggests. "Let her know what's going on here in general before she has to go and deal with the dolphins." 

"Listen, every time I try to ask you what crazy shit you're going to spring on me next you're like 'nooo, what? Me? Spring crazy shit on you? No way!' and then it turns out your crime lair is guarded by dolphin gangs, so at this point I have accepted that your idea of keeping me well informed is useless and I might as well just roll with the crazy shit as it comes up. Let's go negotiate with the dolphin union, why the fuck not."

"Diving straight into the deep end, then?" Williams says. "I like her, she's brave." 

"Not as smart as we thought, maybe, but brave," Morrison agrees, with a smirk around her eyes. 

Eyeroll.

Williams leads the way for the three of them, down a path leading to the dolphin lagoon. A short hike later, and April can see it as they crest a small hill. It's an artificial lagoon, a few hundred meters long, in which a few dozen dolphins are swimming around and playing with one another in no particular pattern that April can detect. But near an interior wall, six of them are gathered in two rows of three, squeaking loudly at a woman in a wetsuit.