“Nix.”
No answer.
“Nix… you there?”
The voice on the other end of the telephone glided like silk from the lips of the one who spoke them; yet, it was desperate, searching for a reply.
Pause.
“I’m here,” she answered eventually. “What the fuck do you want?”
“You know what I want,” the silky voice answered. “An answer. Yes or no.”
Pause.
“Yes.”
“Good, I’ll meet you at Acid, one thirty. Don’t be late.”
The line went dead.
Nix screamed in frustration and threw the phone at the window. The mobile bounced off the pane harmlessly and landed on the mattress laid on the floor.
“Fucking bullet-proof glass,” she muttered to herself as she flung open her suitcase. Tossing clothes to one side, she searched for something clean to wear.
“One fucking thirty,” she said, sighing as she looked at her watch. 9:15pm. Four hours.
Deciding on a nearly clean leather skirt and a tattered shirt, she quickly dressed for the occasion. Pulling on her knee high boots, she looked with disgust around the dirty single room she called home. The peeling smoke tainted wallpaper coupled with the bare wooden floor didn’t make a good first impression. Neither did the single wooden chair, old grimy dressing table, with a mirror so thick with dirt you were lucky to see any reflection at all, or mattress with a number of different stains, most of which were organic. Most of which weren’t hers. You get what you pay for, and Nix didn’t have that much. At the moment.
Kneeling on the floor she reached for her mobile phone. Searching down the contacts list, she found a name and smiled.
[b:d6b8ad36ef][i:d6b8ad36ef]Blue Eyes[/i:d6b8ad36ef][/b:d6b8ad36ef]
9:56pm. She’d better get moving.
Nix stood up and delved into her suitcase again, pressing the call button as she did. Cursing to herself, Nix turned the suitcase over and tipped it’s contents onto the floor.
The gleaming silver barrel caught her eye under a pair of simple red thongs. Grinning, she grabbed the gun and tucked it in her left boot.
“Sup chica?”
“Acid, twelve thirty. Some news.”
“The Serpent too?”
Nix bit her lip as she shouldered on her denim jacket.
“No, leave him out of this one. Just me and you this time.”
“Tooled?”
Nix glanced at her watch.
10:01pm.
“Normal protection. I gotta go… things to do.”
Ending the call, she snatched her keys and slammed the door shut.
[size=18:d6b8ad36ef][/size:d6b8ad36ef]

12:17am
She was going to be early. Blue will be surprised, Nix thought with a grin. She clutched the holdall tightly as she walked along the dark alley that led to the nightclub Acid. This wasn’t the nicest part of town, her cargo was precious and it was raining. Nix wasn’t in the best of moods. Pausing for a moment, she took out a cigarette and sparked up.
Her mind on other things, she didn’t sense him. He crept up behind her and grabbed her thigh. With lightning sharp reflexes, Nix dropped the cigarette and whipped the gun from her boot as she spun round to face her attacker. Strength, foreign to her slender body, forced her attacker into the wet, slimy wall. She slowly rose the gun and placed it at his temple.
“Now tell me,” Nix said softly, “why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”
Blinking as a bead of sweat ran into his eye, Nix’s assailant stuttered “Because.. I – I –I”
“Wrong fucking answer!”
The sound of a gunshot rang through the alley. Eye’s wide with fright stared into space as the warm body slid down and came to rest on the ground.
“Dickhead,” Nix muttered absently as she took off the blood-splattered jacket. The rain ran down her face, cleansing it of the attackers blood.
“I’m going to have to get fucking wet now,” she said to the corpse.
She looked at her watch.
12:37am
She was late.
[size=18:9a378defd2][/size:9a378defd2]

The lady’s toilets in Acid, like the rest of the club, wasn’t of the highest standard. Three cubicles, two of which were out of order. One was involved in an unfortunate incident with a bullet; the other usable but devoid of a door. The single mirror that ran the length of the room was broken into four, with a large chunk missing. If water ever came out of the rusting taps, you wouldn’t want to wash your hands in it.
Its only redeeming feature was its privacy. Most people didn’t give a fuck who you were and what you were doing and those that did usually wanted what you were supplying.
Nix carefully stepped over a woman as she entered the toilets. The nightclub wasn’t called Acid without reason.
“Blue?” Nix called out. “You in here girl?”
The door to the usable cubicle swung open and a girl strode out.
“Yo be late, bitch.”
Nix laughed. Those words spoken from any another Cainite would have resulted in Final Death, yet stood before her was her best friend and packmate. Dirty blonde hair, black bandana, baggy worn jeans and a tight tank top; Blue was dressed as she usually was. Unremarkable, apart from deep shining blue eyes.
Blue Eyes fingered the teardrop tattoo beneath her left eye and raised an eyebrow.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Blue asked, curious.
“Did a juicebag out in the alley,” Nix muttered emptying the bag out into a dirty steel sink. “The fucker had wondering hands.”
“Bastard,” Blue agreed, checking her hair in the mirror. “You look like shit.”
Nix glanced up into the mirror. Not that it made much of a difference.
“Yeah well, had a bitch of a night. Anyway, I got the shit.”
“Nix baby, yo tha best pimp I know…” Blue said rummaging through the items in the sink.
“Supplier is starting to loose his usefulness,” Nix said handing over several pill bottles to Blue.
“What you saying?”
Nix laughed without humour and turned to Blue. “I ain’t paying the guy with money am I? I don’t got any!”
“Shit… that no way for one like you to behave.”
”We all do what we fucking have to don’t we?” Nix said shoving the rest of the items into the holdall.
“You can come back you know,” Blue said seriously. “Come back to the haven. Until you get some cash. No need to go down. You left that behind.”
”No… I want to prove myself. I want to get strong. Not survive because of the pack.”
“Heh, ok. Just a suggestion.”
Nix took out her lipstick and quickly ran it over her lips.
“Anyway, I think the time has come,” Nix said brushing down her skirt.
“Oh?”
“Had a call from Donavon. Seems I’m wanted to join a siege on a city.”
“What you gonna do?”
“Stir up a few anarchs… He’s gonna give me the details tonight.”
Blue nodded thoughtfully. “You gonna need some help?”
“Dunno. Might.”
Nix looked at her watch. 01:36am.
“Shit I’m late,” Nix muttered. “You sticking around?”
“Going down the road,” Blue replied. “Going to see if I can sell some of this shit to some V’s. Text me when you done.”
Nix quickly hugged Blue goodbye.
“Check you later chica.”
“Yeah,” Nix replied, “see you.”
Nix nodded and left the toilets.

“You got that?” Donavon’s silky voice sounded in her ear.
The banging dance music tried, unsuccessfully, to drown his voice.
“Yes,” Nix said with her rare a quiet smile. “I’ll do it.”
Donavon gripped tightly her around her waist and softly kissed her neck. “It’s dangerous.”
“I realise that…” she said pushing him gently away. “But we all have to take risks. Even you Donavon.”
“Do this right and you’ll get the recognition you deserve.”
“I’ll need information. I need to know what I’m going into.”
“Subtlety is what is needed here… Can I be sure you are the right one for this?”
“If it ends up the pipes, then it’s just another recruit,” Nix said shrugging.
Donavon looked at her and smiled. “You know you’re more than just a recruit to me honey.”
“Don’t make me sick. We’re packmates, nothing else.”
“You don’t recognise the bond do you?” Donavon said sadly.
“Donavon…” Nix shook her head and kissed Donavon on the cheek. “I’ll make my preparation’s and leave tomorrow.”
Donavon nodded. “I’ll meet you at the station with a bit of information for you. And money.”
She glanced at her watch. 02:37am.
Nix sighed. “I’ll see you then.”
Donavon nodded and gazed after Nix as she walked towards the entrance of the nightclub. “Maybe for the last time Nix.”

Well. It was better than her last place. Cleaner too. Blue and The Serpent would be impressed.
The plush light cream carpet muffled the sound of the heavy case as it hit the floor.
Nix turned and grinned as she pushed a twenty into the beaming bellboy’s hand. He bowed quickly as he shut the door on his way out.
Nix gazed around her new temporary home. It reminded her of her old penthouse.
The bed was large and sunken into a raised platform facing the door. The owners of this exclusive hotel were considerate enough to supply two walk-in wardrobes complete with wall-to-wall mirrors, and a writing desk with an adequate computer and points for your own. It was fine apart from the fact that panelled pale cream walls complimented the light, flimsy muslin drapes that hung at the large and numerous windows. Overall, although fashionable, the room was a death trap. The sun didn’t agree with her.
Nix sighed and sat on the bed. The springy mattress brought a grin to her travel weary face. She couldn't stay here long, just till she found her feet. Her money would run out too quickly if she stayed for more than a few days.
At least she’d arrived.
Opening her handbag she took out the dossier and tipped it’s contents onto the silk sheets.
Photographs. Lots of photographs. Letters and reports. Donavon had done well. Lighting a cigarette, she sat back on the lavish cushions and began to read through the information.
It was a new start. Time for a change. It was time to get tough.
She would deal with the curtains later.

((this is pretty cool...where's the rest??

(( its.... its not been decided yet... a lot hasn't

((ok, i'll continue checkin, I like your character, btw, it's like she has a real background, like we know her or something

((she has, old VTMR character

He wasn’t overly happy about it. But a debt had to be repaid, and even among the Anarchs there had to be honour. With schemers like John Trent, you had to be extra careful. Owing a favour to Trent could be, and usually was, dangerous. Trent had made alot of enemies, but he’d gained even more favours.

Finn turned the package over and over in his hands. Like any good little delivery boy, he resisted the urge to open it. He figured it was drugs, or money. Trent wasn’t above a little dealing from time to time. Pocketing the package he quickly crossed the street and walked up the polished marble steps that led to the Vaurien nightclub. The gilded gates that opened to usher you in were a perfect copy of those you’d expect to see St. Peter stand guard. But the patrons of Vaurien were far from angelic.

The doorman seemed to melt out of the shadows of the doorway.

[i:79466b0905]“Excuse me sir?”[/i:79466b0905]

Finn smiled, running his free hand through his plume of hair.

[i:79466b0905]“You’re excused.”[/i:79466b0905]

[i:79466b0905]“Funny. Can I help you? There [b:79466b0905]is[/b:79466b0905] a dress code sir.”[/i:79466b0905]

The doorman stepped into Finn’s path. He crossed his arms adding to the already imposing physical barrier with a little hostile body language.

[i:79466b0905]“You can help me by stepping aside.”[/i:79466b0905] He smiled cockily, flexing his neck as he straightened the collar of his jacket.

That didn’t please the doorman.

[i:79466b0905]“I’m supposed to deliver this to Phenix.”[/i:79466b0905]

[i:79466b0905]“You can give it to me. I’ll see that she gets it.”

“You didn’t hear me chief. I’m to deliver it personally. Now if you’ll just show me where she is I’ll....”[/i:79466b0905]

He saw it coming. The doorman was big, and no doubt had a punch like a freight train, but his bulk made him slow. Finn stepped in as the punch was thrown, cutting it’s arc short. He knocked the wind out of him with a sharp knee to the gut, pushing the side of his forearm into his windpipe.

[i:79466b0905]“Let’s start again shall we? I’m here to see Phenix. Can you please show me the way?”[/i:79466b0905]

Coughing and gasping the doorman nodded, he rubbed his throat before stepping through the large metal gates. They closed with a dull clang, the hinges hissing with pneumatic pressures settling.

Inside the club was everything Finn feared. The smoke, heavy bass lines, and discordant samples of an anonymous dance track filled the establishment. He squinted, narrowing his field of vision. The doorman told him to wait as he approached a small group sitting in an alcove hidden by plumes of smoke from the overhead smoke machine. Satisfied, the doorman waved Finn over. He patted the package in his side, feeling it’s reassuring bulk, and walked forward.

A knock sounded at the door of her hotel room.
“Excuse me m’am,” a young voice sounded through the impressive double doors, “your limousine is waiting for you downstairs.”
Nix grinned and walked over to the impressive double doors. To make an impression on the shadowy citizens of Chicago, you had to become everything they aspired to be. You had to dress the right way, frequent the right places, manipulate the right people, and gain the appropriate reputation. Fortunately, that is what Nix was good at. She didn’t care about “high society” yet she revelled in the arrogant attitude associated with such people that she’d lived with all her life. Those with money, unlike the rest of the world, weren’t loathe to spend it lavishly on having a good time. And those who supplied them with a good time. An important insight to people she’d learnt many years ago.
Nix decided to make an impression.
As she turned the crystal handle, her nails shimmered in with the blue varnish that complimented her eye make-up. She was particularly fond of blue. Opening the doors, Nix found the infatuated bellboy waiting expectantly.
Nix smiled fondly at him and nodded. Heading towards the elevator, she stopped then spun round to face him.
“Can I ask you something?” she said taking a step forwards.
“Uh, um… yes,” the young man said stumbling over his words.
“How do I look?”
Blushing deeply the bellboy ran his gaze over her.
You had to dress the right way. Tonight she was dressed for business. White, well-cut designer suit, light blue skin-tight shirt, cut low, black stiletto heeled boots. Unassuming pistol tucked into the sewn secret pocket in the back of the jacket of her suit. Just in case.
“You look… wonderful…” he said with more confidence than was appropriate.
Nix’s eyes narrowed.
“Ah, m’am,” he hastily added.
She nodded then smiled thoughtfully.
“Thank you,” she said as she entered the elevator.
She’d have fun with him later.

***

The sleek white limousine pulled up to the nightclub with a smooth halt. Stepping out of the door, held open by the driver, Nix surveyed the building.
Even, polished white marble steps lead to vast golden gates that were the nightclub’s official entrance. Angelic lettering above the portal displayed the club’s appropriate name.
[i:b7b344bda4][b:b7b344bda4]Vaurien.[/b:b7b344bda4][/i:b7b344bda4]
She smiled as she ascended the steps. She was expected. A burly bouncer, dressed in a black suit waited in front of the golden gates.
A small smile caught her lips. Brawn, no brains.
“Name?” his gruff voice said.
“Phenix.”
“Ahh miss,” he said bowing his head slightly, “Mike is expecting you. Please, follow me.”
Nix nodded and followed the bouncer into the club.
Mike had a twisted sense of humour. The exclusive nightclub was as close to heaven as one like she was ever going to see. Although it was dark and smoky, the sleek lines of the club were lit with a light azure beam that washed over the wealthy young patrons in time to the rapid change of beat in the music. To the right, there was a serving bar running the entire length of the club. The workers behind were beautiful. Slim, tall with golden hair dressed in black to contrast with the marble bartop, they skilfully tended to the needs of every patron in the heaving nightclub. You had to frequent the right places.
The bouncer led Nix to a small private alcove, away from the crowded bar and dance floor, where Mike and two others were sat around a rectangular table on deluxe cream leather sofas.
Rising to greet her Mike’s familiar face scrunched into a smile.
“Phenix! You found it then? Have a seat.”
Nix laughed quietly and lounged on a large leather armchair. She’d had dealings with Mike before. A few years ago Nix and Mike’s sire, John Trent, had been close. Very close. Nix rarely heard from Trent now, but she contacted Mike. He knew the city, knew the people and thought he was smarter than he actually was.
You had to manipulate the right people.
The woman to his right had a dizzy look about her. Artificially blonde with shining green eyes she gazed up lovingly at Mike. Pissed as a fart. Nix dismissed her of any kind of trouble. To his left sat a man dressed in a suit the same as the bouncers at the door. Protection. Nix kept her eye on him. Although she knew Mike, she did not intend to trust him.
“I took the liberty of ordering a drink for you,” Mike said passing a glass to Nix. “Shark Bite. Hope you like it.”
Nix took the champagne glass and sipped the red liquid. A fusion of Champagne, peach schnapps and cranberry glided down her throat.
Nix smiled, showing him her approval.
“So what do you think of the club?” Mike asked lighting up a cigarette then offering one to Nix.
“What the fuck happened to you Mike?” Nix said gesturing to her surroundings as she took the cigarette. “Where the hell did you get a sense of humour from?”
He laughed and shrugged. “This is nothing. It’s what’s behind it that counts.”
“Like fuck it is,” Nix said laughing. “You been in contact with Trent recently?”
Mike nodded. “He sends his love.”
Nix frowned slightly and crossed her arms.
“You’ve told him I’m here?”
Mike nodded, sipping his whiskey.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” Nix’s voice was quiet, dangerous.
“Thought he might be interested.”
“Shit,” Nix muttered under her breath.
“Actually, I thought you might be pleased I did get in touch with him,” Mike said grinning.
“Why?”
“Two old lovers…” Mike said winking with a self-satisfied smile.
“Yeah I fucked him a few times a while back, so what? Just because I’m here don’t mean I wanna go back to that,” Nix rose to leave.
“Phenix!” Mike said alarmed, “sit down I was joking.”
Nix folded over her arms and resisted the urge to wipe the conceited look off his face.
“He’s not coming to Chicago,” Mike said shaking his head. “Too many wanna do his ass. He wants you to have something though, for old times sake. A gift, to help you get started.”
Curiosity stirred, Nix sunk back down into the chair.
“What kind of gift?”
Mike shrugged pulling hard on his cigarette. “Dunno. All I know is that it’s being delivered tonight.”
“Look, I don’t need no fucking gift from a V like Trent,” Nix said frowning. “Tell him thanks for the offer, but he can take it and shove it up his ass.”
You had to gain the appropriate reputation.
Before Mike could reply, the bouncer on the door interrupted him, leaning into the table to talk to the group quietly.
“Sorry to bother you sir,” the bouncer said quietly, “but there is someone here to see Miss Phenix. Says he has a package to deliver.”
“Ah yes, send him over,” Mike said to the bouncer.
Nix glared accusingly in the direction of the courier not knowing whether she expected balloons or a bullet to the head.
The man stood only a few inches taller than her and was of average physique. His walk somehow told her that if he had wings he would rather have flown. He wore jeans over black boots and a light brown suede jacket over a plain shirt. He was damn lucky he was let past the doors.
“Phenix?” he said looking around the group.
Blue eyes. She was particularly found of blue.
She stood and extended her hand. Nix smiled, her quiet smile that touched her eyes, with realisation. Trent was a devious one. The gift wasn’t the package.

It was the courier.

((FANTASTIC!

((no mate, it's terrible.

The table was strobing with a sterilising blue light that cast shadows across the faces of the three people sitting by it and a second bouncer who seemed to have been cast out of an ACME mould. The bouncer gave him the once over before he was beckoned closer. The shadows seemed to dance like warm crude oil as the light beam traced and circled their faces. Finn twitched his head, studying the three faces that looked across to him. The motion was simple, efficient. The very quickness of it gave him a bird-like demeanour.

He gave the doorman an almost taunting glance as two of the three stood. A heavy set, muscular fellow who probably regarded himself as quite intimidating, and a woman.

He couldn’t help himself but to look her up and down. Were he still human, he would’ve felt a knot in his gut and a heat in his neck. But those are the reactions of the living. But all the same he was caught.

She stood slightly shorter than himself, and alot shorter than her brutish companion. She wore a white suit. A colour he usually felt looked tacky and quite tragic. But she obviously knew her colours. The cerulean shirt that clung to her like a second skin shone out in stark but complimentary contrast to the almost polar whiteness of the outfit.

He found his eyes wandering, memorising (he hoped) every curve, every hidden contour of her lithe frame. But his eyes weren’t satisfied until they followed the line of her neck to her face. Her eyes were staggering. The ghostly, ethereal lustre of her skin made the dark makeup around her eyes all the more devastating. She blinked once, the action making her eyes seem to vanish. Leaving twin pools of charred light that froze him to his core.

She was captivating, in an ice cold way. In a way that told him to be all the more careful. He shivered a little, the calamus in his hair rising a little with the action.

She offered her hand, the cascade of dark hair that recoiled tightly from her shoulders twisting slightly as she moved. He smiled, trying to win her over.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Phenix?”[/i:fea30ba08d]

The smile was a warm one, that much was certain. So she humoured him.

[i:fea30ba08d]“The very same.”

“Trent wanted you to have this.”

“I know.”[/i:fea30ba08d] She gave him a look then that made him worry. His eyes seemed to dart, trying to absorb every slice of information the club had to offer. The thick, intimidating jungle bass line made him wince a little.

She took the package, resting it on the table.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Aren’t you going to open it?”[/i:fea30ba08d] Curiosity, like with cats, was an irresistible killer for birds too.

She withered her lip with a snarl that shattered the ice queen mask.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Maybe later...”[/i:fea30ba08d]

He scowled. His hand raising to stroke a quill-like hair. He’d driven overnight to hand over a package, and now he’d done so, the receiver wasn’t fussed?

[i:fea30ba08d]“Not much point in me rushing then? He told me you needed it. Well if that’s it then, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Hey now. You don’t need to leave right now, do you? C’mon. Have a drink. Fuck knows you’ve earned it.”[/i:fea30ba08d]

He wanted to walk. The nervousness was creeping up his spine, making him jitter.

She could sense it. It boosted her confidence, quickened her pursuit.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Mike? You can stretch to a free beer, can’t you? Our little carrier pigeon looks thirsty.”[/i:fea30ba08d]

Mike snapped his fingers. The bouncer who had accompanied Finn to the table walked over sharpish.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Bottle of...what’ll it be?”

“Miller’ll do.”[/i:fea30ba08d]

[i:fea30ba08d]“You heard the man, Haid. Get on it.”

“Sure thing Mike, uhhh I mean Mr. Earl.”[/i:fea30ba08d] He seemed to stammer nervously. But Mike’s face kept beaming.

Finn found the bouncer’s reaction quite amusing.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Duke of Earl huh?”[/i:fea30ba08d]

He grinned darkly at his suited host before taking a seat opposite theirs.

Mike tried to lock eyes with his unorthodox guest. The attempts at intimidation made Finn even more playful.

[i:fea30ba08d]“You got a name son?”[/i:fea30ba08d]

Finn winked at the dizzy blonde that seemed to sway with Mike’s every word, then again at Nix before answering.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Friends call me Finn.”

“Well Finn.”[/i:fea30ba08d] Mike continued. [i:fea30ba08d]“What do you think of my club?”[/i:fea30ba08d]

Finn’s eyes sparkled.

[i:fea30ba08d]“It’s alright I guess. Full of stiffs though. Rich stiffs maybe, but they’re still starched.”[/i:fea30ba08d]

Nix stifled a chuckle as Mike’s neck warmed. The kid had balls, she’d give him that.

[i:fea30ba08d]“What’s with the “Big Boss” routine, Mike? You aren’t fooling anyone. We all know you’re a fucking pussy!”[/i:fea30ba08d]

Finn recoiled a little under the skin. It seemed too conflicting a state of affairs. She had the countenance of a frozen lake. But the words she warmed the air with were darker, more harsh than he expected. It disappointed him a little.

[i:fea30ba08d]“Like I said, Mike. Only my friends call me Finn.”[/i:fea30ba08d]

Nix sat back in the chair, watching the exchange with amusement.
Mike narrowed his eyes and sneered at Finn.
“And only my friends call me Mike,” he snarled. “Be careful, Finn. You don’t want to make an enemy out of me.”
“To be honest Mike, I don’t want to even make a friend out of you,” Finn responded with a grin, skilfully dismissing the enraged vampire with a quick turn to face Nix.
She smiled as she sipped her drink.
“So, Finn, how long you staying in Chicago?”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “I was planning to leave tonight actually.”
“Fuck that off. Stay a while. Chicago has a lot to offer someone like you, I’m sure.”
“I, ah, would but there is a small problem… can’t survive on good looks alone unfortunately.”
Nix leaned forward and picked up the discarded package on the table.
“Funny thing about money, Finn,” she said as she picked at the tape binding the parcel, “is that it’s fucking fickle… it comes and goes.”
His eyes narrowed as she unravelled the brown paper surrounding the contents of the decoy gift.
“One day, you’re living in a shit hole willing to fuck anything to get the next fifty,” she grinned as she revealed the pack’s contents. “The next, you’re sitting in an exclusive nightclub holding ten thousand dollars.”
She quickly tucked the money into her handbag, aware of Mike’s greedy stare.
“Well,” Finn said slowly, “I could be persuaded to stay, for a few days. If I get a better offer of course.”
She felt his eyes stare at her intently. She did especially like blue.
“Well… I need some new toys,” she paused looking at his clothes. You had to dress the right way. “You look like you could do with some new gear.”
Finn was cut off before he could reply.
“And if I know Trent, and I fucking know Trent, you ain’t getting paid for your trouble. I’d say he got you out of shit once and now he’s calling in the favour.”
You had to manipulate the right people.
Finn’s rueful smile told her this was true.
“So, how about it Finn? Want to go going shopping?”
You had to frequent the right places.
Finn raised an eyebrow and smiled.
Turning to Mike Nix smiled and nodded. “When you next talk to Trent, tell him I said thanks. For the gift.”
“I will Phenix,” Mike said pouring himself another drink.
She rose, looked at Finn expectantly, then turned once more to Mike.
“For the gift, and the money.”
Laughing at his puzzled expression, she proffered her arm to Finn.
You had to gain the appropriate reputation.
“Fancy a ride in my limo?”