2019-06-14 - Keeping Business Separate From Business

It takes a couple days between the initial outreach and the follow-up. Felix's business may run itself like a well-oiled machine, but there are still a lot of moving parts. So it's yesterday when Byron gets told that Felix has some time for him around nine o'clock on Friday night. The club is bumping by then, but Graham's been put on alert to keep an eye open for one Byron Thorne. As such, he's behind the bar right now, but he doesn't look like he's actually working so much as he's just milling around back there, drinking a beer and keeping a weather eye toward the door. Andre is around here somewhere, looking impressive as security but also kinda dancing with his glow-bracelets-and-necklaces on.

Keeping his association with the dark criminal underground of Gray Harbor a secret, Byron rarely sets foot into the Firefly Club. The last time he was here was almost a year ago, when he was entertaining clients and investors alike. As this is a formal business meeting, the news of it having been spread across town by now, Byron is just a man going through the motions of promoting his festival plans. Dressed sharply in a three piece suit, his feet tucked into expensive Italian shoes, the Gray Harbor native turned polished entrepreneur and now landlord, makes his way into the club with a briefcase in hand. His immediate focus it to head to the bar as was instructed, his dark eyes on Graham, he states, "I'm Byron Thorne. I had a meeting for nine o'clock tonight."

Club-tramps stop to gawk for a second, and there's a general murmur to the tune of 'giiiiirl, I heard he has real money' that thrills through the press of dancers, counter-pointed by 'boooy, don't even trip, what straight dude wears a three-piece to the Firefly.' These murmurs ripple in Byron's wake, all the way up to the bar, where Graham is chuckling into his beer. "What's up, man, I think we went to high school together. I'm Graham, we talked on the phone a minute?"

But small-talk with low-level employees probably ain't on Byron's agenda, and Graham respects a man's time. He beckons with the beer-bottle for Byron to come behind the bar, then chucks the beer bottle into the nearest recycling bin.

Surprisingly, it lands where he means it to. So go Graham!

While time is usually money, Byron often comes off as somewhat laid back so despite his professional dress and that briefcase that he carries, he doesn't look like he's in a particular rush. In fact, in the brief moment that he's kept waiting, he gives the club interior and its patrons a quick survey, taking in the atmosphere. Returning to the bartender, there's a nod followed by a faint grin, "Oh right. If that's the case, I probably tried to get you roped into some business venture or other." His gaze drifts a moment, when he murmurs the remainder of his statement out, "Or at least tried to get your parents' cooperation."

He then goes to follow up with, "How has business been?" It's just idle chatter as he trails along, an attentive eye watching the flipped bottle land neatly where it should.

"I was a couple years behind you. Swimming in your wake, I guess." Graham wears a wholly amused smirk for a second, rolling his fingers into a beckoning gesture while he pushes through the back-door. Andre unravels himself from his dance routine and falls in a few steps behind them, still quietly bobbing to the music while he brings up the rear of this little troupe heading toward the stairs to Felix's office. "The club keeps itself in the black pretty good, seems like. I get paid, anyway." And Graham shrugs, like that's all he knows and all he cares to know.

At the bottom of the stairs, there's an apologetic-seeming smile turned upon Byron, and Graham explains, "Just a quick pat-down. And what's in the briefcase?" Between his body language and his tone, he clearly expects Byron to open the briefcase while Andre gives him the pat-down.

"That's good to hear. In fact, I have hopes that the club will come into play with this festival that I'm planning." Byron says, before offering a little tidbit of what he'll most likely be informing about, "Some wicked debauchery to go with the mystery." Even if the Firefly Club is no Renaissance Italy. Before proceeding forward into Felix's office, this pat down isn't something unexpected and he cooperatively unzips the briefcase, holding it out to Graham to look through. Once that's done, he'll stand still enough, arms slightly outstretched at his sides for the actual pat down.

"Documents. Mostly. Copies of legal permits, the whole shebang."

There's a half-choked laugh from Graham about the idea of using the club, even while he's glancing through the contents of the briefcase. "Nice way of saying 'club tramps.' I may borrow it." He steps back, arms crossed over his chest, watching Andre's beefy fingers pat their way across Byron's fancy suit. There's a brief exchange confirming that there's no piece in evidence, and then the short trot up the stairs. Graham knocks on the closed door, waits a beat, then opens it with the info, "Thorne's here, boss." Like announcing visitors to a monarch.

He steps into the office, leaving the door open for Byron and Andre behind him. Inside, Felix sits at a desk overlooking the club floor, his eyes turned attentively to the entrants.

Byron takes no insult by the bit of laughter. In fact, the edge of one of his lips tugs up into a light smirk. "Indeed. My description of it actually goes better with the idea I have planned, but club tramps is a fine way of putting it too." There's often something indignant about being frisked, but Thorne pays none of this any mind, his eyes simply staring out ahead, dwelling on his own thoughts, before it's over and he's handed his briefcase again. "Thanks."

When his presence is announced, he once more trails behind Graham and into the office. "Mister Monaghan, thank you for taking the time to meet with me this evening." Byron knows the man well enough. This is in no way anywhere near his first encounter with Felix. He just doesn't visit often for appearances sake.

"Juuuust call 'em like I see 'em." Graham says that before they go in the office, obviously. The second that door is open, his entire demeanor shifts, as does Andre (who spends a second taking off his glow-necklaces and bracelets before coming in). They're mostly just set-dressing now, though Graham does his bartending-thing by pouring out whiskey for Felix and Byron both after a nod from Felix to the bottle on a side-table over there. He hands the glass to Byron, then steps back to the door, arms folded, flanking one side while Andre flanks the other.

"Thank you for reaching out to me, Mister Thorne." Felix can do pleasantries. They're not his favorite thing, but he takes his glass, and he smiles across the desk at Byron. The smile never quite reaches his eyes, though. He gestures toward the empty seat and suggests, "What's on your mind? What can we," he looks to his, uh, business associates by the door, "do for you?"

Byron is grateful for the offered glass of whiskey, knowing what Monaghan is like. Still, he doesn't yet take a sip and instead settles himself into the directed chair. The glass of wine left forgotten on the edge of the table for now as Thorne reaches to grab several documents from out of that briefcase. "In this push to promote tourism and economical interest in this town, I'd proposed a festival, one which was approved by the Mayor and City Council." And to this, he pushes forth copies of the legal documents.

"I know, that's not what you're interested in. I'm hoping that what I have to say next does interest you, however." Byron's fetches the outline for his Festival and he also places this onto the desk for Felix to look over at his leisure. "This weekend long event is a town wide Masquerade of sorts. Think Venice with masks and costumes. Our version of the Mardi Gras, in a sense. I'm still picking out a date for the festival, hoping to hold it in early to late Fall. With the festivities going on," Now his gaze lifts to regard Felix directly, "This may be a good time to invite 'business partners' into town, with the mystery of the Masquerade going on full swing."

Felix repeats, with an inflection that suggests interest, "Tourism and economical interest." He takes a small sip, as if he's drinking to that, and then sits the glass neatly on the desk in front of him, tilting his head into he approximation of a nod about the Mayor and the City Council. Quiet while Byron explains, he lifts an eyebrow about the idea of inviting business partners to town in the middle of a town-wide party. "Duly noted."

Felix is a hard man to read. Most people who sit in that chair never have the first or faintest clue what he's actually thinking. So Byron is a rare beast to catch the slight hardening of his jaw for what it is: the idea of a sudden rush of outside money into his town is worrisome. "Tell me more, Mister Thorne. What, specifically, can we do for each other." It's not really a question, so there's not really a question-mark at the end of it.

Despite brandishing all the paperwork, Byron doesn't take his gaze off of Felix for long, as that would be rude. Instead, even as he presents each document, his gaze will always lift to observe the other man with curiosity. That's when he takes notice of the subtle hint of displeasure in the other man's features. With his briefcase not resting at his feet, leaning against his chair leg, he finally goes for that whiskey, taking a mild sip.

"All I ask of you is for the cooperation of the Firefly Club for this event. To help in keeping of the theme of the Masquerade and so forth. The rest is something that you do here already and that is in keeping the patrons entertained."Byron goes on to explain before taking a second sip from his glass, before going on, drink still held in hand. "This in turn will be like an open gateway for you and an easier time bringing in your own clients and goods." There's a quick addition to this, "Oh don't get me wrong, I've informed the GHPD to take safety precautions for this event, but mainly to ensure that the tourists don't wander and get lost in the woods so some of their time may be occupied there."

"The club specifically." There's a thoughtful sound following that tidbit, and Felix turns a look toward the big window overlooking the Friday-night-dancers. After a long look out that one-way glass, he admits, "I can see that. Mind you, we try to keep our business separate from our business." He looks pointedly at the two goons bracketing the door. "Whenever possible." Those two shift their stances but are otherwise just busy holding up the wall back there.

His attention fixes back on Byron, and there's no denying that he's looking hard at the man now, searching his eyes, expression, body language, all of it for any tell that this conversation is anything but exactly what it appears to be on the surface. If Byron's lying, this is when Felix will know it: "Courteous of you to think of us, Mister Thorne. Other than the use of my club, was there something you were looking to get out of this arrangement?"

"I fully understand." Byron knows the importance of keeping business away from business... even if in his own business some of Felix's business resides. "But no, I'm going around from business to business looking for support and primarily cooperation to ensure that this event is a success. If it is, then it very well may become a yearly event that people flock to. We shall see." He then gestures to the neat stack of documents on the desk, "Those are yours to keep or do with as you will."

As for Thorne's true intentions, it looks to be exactly as he presents it. He's here on formal business, the same as he's been doing with other local business around town: Letting the populace know to prepare for a Grand Masquerade on a town wide scale and to inform them, mostly through paperwork, of what to expect and how he's hoping this will help build up the town's economy. If Byron's a little nervous, well, that's because he's in the presence of Monaghan.

However, there is something, "This is more of my push to further legitimatize my presence and my work in this town. Help boost the economy etc." He says with an idle gesture before taking in more of that whiskey. "The more helpful I'm perceived, the more people will be willing to turn a blind eye. I'm sure there are curious individuals wondering how I came about my successes, nearly feeling like an outsider sometimes despite being born and bred here. That is primarily what this festival is meant to do."

It's not a criticism, strictly speaking, but Felix asks, "You're not worried that raising your profile will be counter-productive to our business?" He gestures with a tip of his glass between himself and Byron. The papers and such... he'll look through them later. Or never. It's hard to be sure. He leaves them settled neatly on the desk, keeping his focus on Byron rather than the props that have accompanied him. "The more people look at you, the more people look at you." His shrug is passive, though, like that's really none of his concern.

Until he has to break some kneecaps, anyway.

"There needs to be trust first." Byron says with an idle lick of his lips, his own gaze now lowered to stare off at nothing really. Perhaps skimming off the tops of the paperwork on Felix's desk. Just as he'd said about keeping business separate from business, he near repeats the words he'd spoken early, "I understand your concerns." Eyes now lifted to regard Monaghan once more as he leans forward to set his half empty glass on the edge of the desk. "I've covered my tracks as best that I could thus far, but I'll continue to tread with care."

"Then I think we should be fine." That's Felix-speak for 'not technically agreeing to anything but not strictly saying no, either.' This way, if Byron has to get shot or something later, Felix is still in the clear! "When you have your dates finalized, give us a call. I'm happy to volunteer the club for your festival, and I'm sure my associates will be happy about the increased traffic." Also, with what can be interpreted as a compliment, "It's an ambitious project. I wish you luck with it."

For the most part... that went well. Byron even graces Felix with one of his trademark smiles, looking satisfied by the results of this rather tense meeting. He then rises and if there was a desire to finish off his glass of whiskey before he leaves, he abandons it. "Glad to hear. I thank you for your cooperation and here's to the future and the success that I'm hoping this festival brings." A pause, "To the both of us."

Okay, it's not completely abandoned. Reaching forward, he lifts that glass up in an informal toast before downing the remaining contents within. It's then reset back onto the edge of the desk. Taking up his briefcase, he ends with, "I'l make sure to fill you in on all the little details." With that he, he turns to face the other two men who continue to wait by the door. There's a hint of the smile he wore previously still on his features, "I hope you both enjoy the festivities as well"

With his head lowered in something like a nod, Felix agrees enough to drink to that, lifting his cup and taking a tiny sip off the top of that whiskey. He's touched it a time or two, but it should be obvious that he's more inclined to nurse his booze than pound it. "Do that," he says of filling him in. "I'll be in touch as soon as you have some dates nailed down." Because a masked party where cash is bound to be flying? Is ripe for the plucking.

The two goons by the door aren't really allowed to get all chatty when they're in here, but the big guy beams an ear-to-ear beam at Byron for his well-wishes. His eyes are bright with joy, though he probably has no idea what he's actually joyful about; just the word 'festivities' seems like enough for him. Graham plays things a little closer to the breast (though his smile pulls a little at one side of his mouth, 'cause how do you not smile at Andre, yanno?), and looks beyond Byron to Felix for a cue. Which is answered by another small nod. "Thanks. I'll walk you out. You wanna go out the back, or - " He checks the temperature of Felix with a glance before daring. " - give the club tramps another bout of light-headedness?"

"Normally, I would say to let me out the back way." Byron says, "But as this is official business." Not at all shady business. Nope. "The entrance is good enough for me. I've already been spotted entering the place as it were." There's no final look back at the man behind the desk and Thorne looks content to follow along and to be let out and into the wild. Or at the least the cool summer evening air.