2019-12-13 - A Charitable Favor

(TXT to Byron) Lex : (From Poe Little's Phone #): This is Lex. I'm with Poe. Can we talk?

(TXT to Lex) Byron : Lex? Haven't heard that name in a while. And sure, we can talk. What's up?

(TXT to Byron) Lex : If you've heard 'Lex' at all, forget everything 😉 Slander and lies. Can we meet? Texting this is weird.

(TXT to Lex) Byron : Is this about Poe? Is something wrong?

(TXT to Byron) Lex : Poe is fine, promise. He said that you, he, and Joey were friends?

(TXT to Lex) Byron : We all ran around like hooligans together as kids and throughout high school if that's what you mean.

(TXT to Lex) Byron : But yes, we're all still friends. Even if life sometimes gets in the way, y'know.

(TXT to Byron) Lex : Hooligans are your only real friends, anyway 😉 Can I stop by sometime in the next few days?

(TXT to Lex) Byron : I know a few people who might take offense to that. Probably not.

(TXT to Lex) Byron : This isn't about Poe and you're being mysterious about it. Now you have me curious.

(TXT to Lex) Byron : How about 1pm tomorrow? Swing by the Bayside Apartments and I'll inform security to let you drive through.

(TXT to Byron) Lex : Making you curious is how I get security to let me drive through 🙂

(TXT to Byron) Lex : 1pm works. Motorcycle, not car. Blue hair.

(TXT to Lex) Byron : Hah. I'll let Frank know. See you then.

Lex is in the midst of turning in a circle as the elevator door opens, staring at the most menial of facilities with some combination of impressed and uneasy. Whereas Poe tends to shadow others, the tattooist is on the smaller side of... well, normal. That's where normal ends.

Her hair falls almost to the waist, the natural ringlets pulled almost straight by the length alone. Then again, it's also sapphire blue... so people don't tend to notice... anything else. She's piled it atop her head for the day, in a bun that almost looks intentional, with the shorter strands curling around her face. She's left her piercings in place, from nose, cheeks, to 'brows, and a good deal of her tattoo work is exposed by the off-the-shoulder black sweater that's baggy enough to make the black tank below a socially appropriate add-on. The leggings below are black, as are the boots that reach just below the knee.

Being his own boss, Byron still keeps a tight schedule and in fact, he does have Lex penciled in on his 'Meetings' calendar for 1pm. With that in mind, he'd just gotten off of a phone call a minute or two before her arrival. Since it was no video conference call this time, he's dressed in a white dress shirt with black slacks and gray, pin-striped tie. A pair of of well-polished Oxfords are worn on his feet. Rather than wearing his hair in that slicked back style that he tends to, he wears it more natural, allowing some of his bangs to brush across his brow.

Hearing the ding of the elevator just outside of the door leading to his penthouse apartment, when he opens the door he's not particularly surprised at what he sees. She did say that she had blue hair, for one, and he's probably seen her and that blue hair around somewhere in town. It's hard to say whether he's the judgmental type, especially for those who know his background, but there is a flicker within his dark eyes that may hint that he is giving her the once over, before he says with a friendly and polite smile, "Hey there. Come on in." The door is swung open wider before he shuts it behind her. "Care for something to drink? I have a full bar if you're interested." A pause as he's headed in the direction of the kitchen, "If coffee is your poison, I can provide you with that as well." He has one of those fancy espresso machines. "I hope it was a problem to get up here."

Whereas Byron may be subtle in his once-over of the younger woman, Lex herself is looking him over openly, even arching a pierced 'brow when her gaze flickers over the Oxfords. Considering the size of the town -- or lack thereof -- it's fairly inevitable that they've at least seen each other. It probably helps that she was sitting cross-legged on the table next to the Angel Tree that his relative -- friend? -- mobbed on his behalf. Or so it seemed, from her less-than-enthused spot beside the tree.

"Hey," she offers back, offering him a somewhat uneasy smile. Whatever she's doing here, she's out of her element. In several ways. "Can't drink, but thanks." She tips a look around what she can see of the penthouse, before muttering a few words in Spanish. "Really nice place. The whole..." A hand with black-painted nails is raised to gesture to the room at whole. Probably the entire building. And, you know, plot of land that isn't in a trailor park.

"I saw some chick pulling ornaments off the angel tree that I think was with you, but the only person I really recognized from the rich people was you." While a Spanish accent is hiding somewhere deep, most of her verbal affect seems... street born? Street slang, if nothing else. Her gaze has continued to flicker here and there as she speaks, either unwilling to make eye contact or simply lacking the desire for social propriety. "You know what I'm talkin' about, with the angel tree? Dunno if they had it when you and Poe were kids, but I'm pretty sure that's where most of my coats and socks came from, back then."

When told that she can't drink, he's not about to pry about he reasoning, but Byron will inquire just to make sure, "Not even coffee?" He half-turns from where he stands before the espresso machine in the kitchen. If anything, he's making himself a nice mug of coffee. "I've got various teas, ginger ale and water too, if you'd prefer." He's just putting these offers out there. Once the mug is set in place, ready to be filled, he turns in full to lean against the counter's edge with his hands at his sides, gently gripping at the counter top for support.

He knows exactly who Lex is describing when she mentions some 'chick' pulling ornaments from the tree. "That's my girlfriend Lilith." Who runs the pawn shop on Elm! "And there was always something like the Angel Tree, yes. A place for people to donate their unused, unwanted or just generous contributions to." He then adds, "With the town's flagging economy for so many years, a lot of families came to depend on those donations."

Lex finally turns her attention back to Byron himself as he continues to list off the various options. Instead of choosing one or another, she's hopping onto a grand non-sequitor. "You mind if I vape in here? MJ oil, so no smoke."

She smirks slightly as he introduces 'the chick', and smirks slightly at she watches him. "I... kind of assumed she planned on buying the shit with your money." Considering she's probably standing on some sort of floor covering that cost more than her bike... well, one couldn't say Lilith is in the wrong.

"Here," she finally sighs, stepping toward him with both draped trench and that folder. It's the latter that she's reaching into, pulling out maybe a dozen of those construction paper ornaments. "This is why I'm here. These were left on the tree, and I can tell you from experience... the ones that don't go first usually don't go at all. I was planning on hitting Seattle for a weekend at one of the ink parlors, but I'm... not really getting along with cars right now, and it's too long a ride for my bike." She splays the paper ornaments a bit.

"I can pay you back, once things settle down. And I'm not saying that in some 'scam the rich guy' kind of way. I can deal with the shopping and dropping stuff off, I just. I know it's a lot to ask from a stranger, but... pretty much everyone around here is a stranger, nowadays."

There's a faint look of amusement on Byron's features when she asks for permission to vape. "No, I don't mind at all. Be my guest." He'll even quietly observe from out of the corner of his eyes, as he turns to face the espresso machine again once the cup if near full to add in the foam to his cappuccino. "Lilith is an independent woman for the most part. She has her own business and makes her own money. That said, helping out the unfortunate should be in everyone's interest, at least partially. So I'll be helping her cover some of those ornaments. Doing my own part, you know."

The hiss from the machine can be heard as a nice layer of foam spreads out over the coffee beneath. It gives the spacious apartment a nice wake-me-up coffee aroma either way. Now with his cup in hand, letting it cool down for a moment, he rounds the kitchen island to join up with Lex, gesturing to the couch with his free hand, "Have a seat anywhere." The couch isn't the only option. There are other chairs strewn around the place along with the stools that line the island.

"So," He'll start, that same somewhat amused, yet curious spark can be seen within his dark eyes, "Are you looking for a lift to Seattle and some spending money to lavish gifts on children who, probably, deserve them? Is that what you're asking for?" He then adds in, "I mean, your intentions are good." He finally takes a sip at this moment, pondering this over, before asking, "How many ornaments did you claim for yourself?"

"Oh, Jesus, no," is her knee-jerk reaction to his mention of lifts to Seattle. Because, out of everything currently being discussed, that is of critical value. "I was willing to hit Seattle for the money, but fuck if I'm going there to shop. Kinda..." Why is she still talking? "Let's just say... I left for a reason?" She offers him a look that's probably more apologetic than many would get, and shrugging one shoulder.

"Listen. Chair time on a bid pulled in over five hundred. I can pull five times that on a Friday in Seattle, which is what I was planning on doing." A pause, and what seems to be a steadying breath inward. "Some stuff happened between then and... fuck, now. They got some kinda deadline. Anyway, here."

The manilla folder is brought foward again, and this time it looks like she's pulling out some kind of spread sheet. There are twelve rows, each of the first boxes labeled with one of the ornament gifts, and the various columns that following showing the prices of each item locally, off of the branded sites, and Amazon.

"I took them all for myself. Life in Gray Harbor has this nice habit of fucking up your plans."

Listening to Lex semi-explain this whole Seattle thing, Byron watches her with a thoughtful look as if he's trying to follow along to figure out just what she is trying to say. He'll let her continue on with no interruptions, just so that she can get the whole story out, even if she leaves out certain details, which may or may not be crucial. Who can tell!

When she brandishes the manila folder, he makes room on the kitchen island for her to unfold the spread sheet. Now, hovering over these details beside her, his mind calculating the costs of each and every item, and he'll assume that she checked around to ensure that the prices listed are the best she can find.

He takes another sip from his cup, keeping his attention focused on the spreadsheet, when he asks, "You're not going to tell me what's keeping you from Seattle, are you?" His gaze slowly shifts back to her, but he doesn't hold his gaze there. Not wanting to look as if he's pressuring her to spill anything. It's more of this look of curiosity than anything more. Focus is back on the spreadsheet and he even leans forward to get a better look.

"This all looks sensible, gift-wise." Then something comes to mind, "You work with Geoff, don't you?" Apparently, Geoff is another of his childhood friends. Not that it seems to matter too much when he asked that. "If I do offer my assistance, I'll assume that you do want to pay me back when you are able to hit up Seattle? To give you that peace of mind as well for the holiday season."

She's not comfortable. It wouldn't take much knowledge of the woman, let alone people in general, to notice her unease. A few too many shrugs. Quick glances over the shoulder. Probably not the best state to be in, when one explodes things with their brain... and so comes in the vape. She's taking a long drag on the thing, and as promised, keeping the vapor in her lungs until there's nothing visible to exhale.

"Tell you what," she's offering after that first pull, green eyes closing for a moment. "You agree to loan me enough to get all the shit on that list? I'll answer anything you Goddamn want. Though I'm warning you, the more you know about me, the less you're gonna wanna give me money." Well, at least she's realistic.

Byron's hung out with trailer trash, hoodlums and criminals and a wide variety of children from town with varying shitty home lives that drove them to hang out at the Gilford cottage for cookies after school. He knows shady, defensive behavior when he sees it. He'll try not to stare, catching bits and pieces of her reaction to everything that he's said, especially his bringing up Seattle, though his gaze will always shift back to the spreadsheet and those numbers.

Taking a couple of steps back, giving her some room when she puts out her offer, he takes the moment to savor his cappuccino, all the while listening to her words and considering a few things himself. A faint smile forms once the mug is lowered, "That bad, huh?" He then licks at his lips, tasting the remnants of caffeine goodness there. "And I know who your friends are, so if you do skip town after this, I know who to look up." He's obviously joking. The items on that list looked like wonderful gifts for any family. A slow few nods then follow, "I'll agree to that. A loan it is." Slowly turning back towards the spreadsheet, "It's all for a good cause anyway." Returning his attention back to Lex, he makes sure to add, "Just means you have a good heart, even if you're in a bad place at this inopportune of times."

Her relief is almost tangible as he makes his agreement, the tension that had begun to stir around the woman easing notably. If the subtler signs weren't enough, tattooed hands are raised in an effort to press them into her hair, only to mutter what sound like Spanish curse words when the habitual gesture further destroys the not-quite-bun.

There's a sigh, another muttered curse, and then she's just pulling the black hairband free, letting the curls fall as they will for the time. Pretty much anything has to beat what she just managed with her hands. ... Right?

"Thank you," she's finally managing the whole civility aspect of things, and when green eyes shift toward his darker gaze, she's drawing another breath off the vape. "You still have questions?"

Maybe doing this good deed makes a wealthy man feel good about himself every so often. Though this wealthy man did just donate over 10K to charity just the other day too. Still, Byron looks pleased enough when he gets a sense of the young woman's relief, but there was no need to make the moment awkward and so he diverts his attention partially in the direction of the spreadsheet, but he's more taking a seat at one of the stools at the island with another sip of his coffee, before setting the cup down altogether.

"No questions. Not right now anyway." It's hard to say if he'll even really pry, but who knows what games rich men like to play. A look is then given to his own Christmas tree. It's large to fit the expansive space in this penthouse apartment well. It's also not yet decorated. "How do you want this handled? I can hand over a check if that's not questionable at all. Transfer money to your account. Or would you prefer it in cash?"

Lex is following his gaze, all the way to the naked Christmas tree. It's that, of all things, that has her giving him the most dubious glance. "You... gonna put lights and stuff on that? Kinda looks like you got a pathetic forest if you don't." Thank you, marijuana. Speaking of, there's another pull on the vape.

"Oh. Uh, let me find the shit, then I'll bring you the receipts. That way you know what went where, from somebody without blue hair and a dozen piercings. Or our mutual aquaintance, who clearly has shitty taste in women, so I wouldn't count much on him, either. In that regard."

"I... know you donate," she offers after a moment, even without the prompting. "I've heard people talk about it, and I saw you at the auction. This... isn't my MO, y'know? Hell, I'm used to being the one to bail the other idiots out of shit like this..." Well, she's definitely becoming more... talkative?

And very interested in that tree. "Poe's nan has like... fifteen boxes of Christmas decorations. If this is your status quo, mijo, I think you might need some help..." It's said without malice. If anything, the relief of his eventual 'yes' seems to have flipped the switch from uneasy to an almost heady familiarity. The vape's no doubt helping that along.

"You asked why I can't get to Seattle," she notes after the requisite moment of absorbing the vapor, the barest wisp of white visible against the dark of her lips. "Not sure why you aren't asking now... but I owe you. It's not the money, I'll pay that back. Just... thanks."

Yes, the Christmas tree is bare and they all can see that, but when Lex brings it up, Byron just has to laugh. "Believe me, that tree is going to be far from bare once we're done with it. Lilith wanted to go all out this Christmas. She brought the ornaments and everything. We just need to find the time to decorate. We'll be working on that soon." He then goes on to relay, being a more rather spirited mood himself, "We did decorate the tree we got for her shop. It's a terrible time of year for some people, as you already know." His eyes shift back to his guest now, "It's pretty devastating when they're forced to pawn off a few things in order to give their family a great Christmas this year. So the lit-up highly decorated tree will hopefully lift some of their spirits."

It's when she asks why he's not pushing for answers now that has that little grin returning to tug at his lips, brows lifted as he bites down at his bottom lip, thinking on this. "All I know is that you're not wasting your money on drugs or anything of that nature with what I'm loaning, so I'm not overly concerned." A thoughtful pause. "And I only want you to tell me when you feel comfortable enough to do so. No pressure. There's enough of that this time of year. But, if you wish to get this off your chest now, I'm all ears."

"Yeah," Lex agrees easily enough with his assessment of the shop's Christmas tree, as she finally slides onto one of those barstools. Her coat, despite being a bit damp from the inevitable stupidity of Gray Harbor's weather patterns, is bundled in her lap.

"That might cheer them up. But..." she leans forward slightly, having gained an inch or two via the barstool, to point a black-painted nail at a spreadsheet box with 'size four, green, coat' typed in. "Think of it this way. Lump donations keep people alive, don't get me wrong... but when you see some four-year-old running around in a green coat in a few weeks, you can know it's 'cause you gambled on a girl with blue hair and way too many tattoos." A one-sided smirk in his direction, though the expression seems more friendly than wry.

"And I don't volunteer information, mijo." That, on the other hand, is wry. "You got a rare opportunity here, and the window's probably going to close if I sober up." Hey, it's all about honesty.

Returning back to his briefly forgotten cup of coffee, taking a quiet sip as Byron listens to Lex talk about this gamble that he's taking, he'll never stop to be amused by some of which she says. Then again, many people have these ideas of what a man like Thorne and others with money, in their expensive suits and driving their luxury cars, are like. They aren't entirely wrong, of course. Especially as Thorne is new money, he has this image that he portrays.

"I rely on people like Joey Kelly," He does add, some humor in his tone before he takes another sip, "More often than I should, to be honest. Some of my closest friends grew up in places like Elm Street, a few even did their time in jail. That's just life in Gray Harbor sometimes. Doesn't mean, despite it all, they aren't good people, you know?"

She speaks of this opportunity given him and it's something that makes him contemplate for the a few fleeting seconds, this scrutinizing of gazes now looking her over. "Alright." He starts, followed by another casual sip of coffee, "You've got my interest piqued and from what little you've hinted, I'm sure that you will not disappoint." Setting the cup down, once more, for now, his eyes never leaving Lex, he finally asks, "So tell me, what's this business that you've got in Seattle that's keeping you from performing this Christmas Miracle for the unfortunate in the way that you'd prefer?"

She takes another draw off the vape, as casually as he sips his coffee, and raises a pierced eyebrow as he starts listing off her social circle. Or probably would've, had he been more specific than 'closest friends'. Odds are, with what she's already manipulated her way into, she knows quite well who his friends were. And when. Ah, the charm of interacting with ex-sociopath 'magicians'. Lucky Poe, eh?

"Honestly, and you can believe me or not... I've dealt with both sides of the coin. The people on the poorer side? Almost always got your back. Old money? Fuck'm. Why do you think I'm here and not talking to one of the old royalty? You know what it's like to actually need new socks and not have them, or be too guilty to ask for a toy instead of a fucking coat." Despite her attention to the vape, the blue-haired woman doesn't seem to be becoming high so much as... relaxing. A bit. If nothing else, those furtive feral animal twitches have stopped.

"Mmm... business? I can give you the five year breakdown, or we can hop to year six and say I was behind... enough of the heroin on lower Southside. Dealt with the same crowd in the Parlors as I did with the drugs, so it... can get a little tense. They all think I'm a witch, so they stay out've my way, but I left that... environment... for a reason." A pause, her chin tipping a bit as she looks toward the fridge. "Ginger ale still up for grabs?"

Then, as if she hadn't interrupted her own narrative to ask about the drink: "But I don't think that's what you were asking, was it?"

With a quirk of his brow, before they both lift gently, Byron relays, "The Addingtons? They aren't all terrible, in truth. Surprisingly so. You just gotta really dig to find the good apples out of that particular barrel." He doesn't really mean that, but he's worked with various Addingtons in the past, so he can understand just where the woman is coming from. However, what she says in regards to the type of things a child in their position would ask for rather than toys, well, his was a different upbringing altogether than just struggling with poverty. That doesn't mean that this is something that he doesn't relate to, he's had friends who experienced that exact thing.

She brings up that people think that she's a witch. He can see the way she lights up a room, so he's not completely surprised by this. "In Seattle?" Byron is always intrigued to hear about people talking about glimmer-like experiences outside of Gray Harbor. Standing up, he rounds the island to retrieve the bottle of ginger ale from within the fridge. "Yeah, I'll get you a glass." Making his way to the counter, he reaches into the cabinet for a glass and begins to pour.

It's only then, that he comes out to ask, "It depends really. You mentioned that you initially left for a reason? Is this reason different from what's keeping you out of Seattle right now?"

"Thanks," she offers as he begins to pour the drink, her eyes lingering on his back while he's conveniently turned.

"And yeah, in Seattle." Regarding that witch comment. Not that she offers more. That's how this game works, remember? Answer only what's asked. Unless he spikes her drink, and then all bets are off.

"Ah, yeah. Real different." A soft snort, though it's more huffed air than actual sound. "I hate to make assumptions, but I'm gonna assume you ain't played much in the... ah, illicit pharmaceutical sandbox?" While she claims to already know the answer, the fact that she actually needs to know the answer to continue has her falling silent, simply watching him pour the drink.

"In Seattle, interesting." Byron will comment before recapping the bottle of ginger ale and bringing the newly poured glass to his guest. "Things that I experience here," Gray Harbor, "Doesn't carry over to anywhere else, so that's why I find it interesting." With his interest piqued, he will go ahead and ask now, "So, what happened that they thought of you as a witch in the.. Emerald City." That actually brings a smile to his lips once spoken.

The drugs thing though, that grin lingers, "Who hasn't? I spent a good several years of my life in L.A. Hussling out there, making a name for myself among the rich and sometimes famous. So as you'd probably already know, I've had my fair share of illicit pharmaceuticals." He doesn't go on to say whether he still does them or not and instead, sets her ginger ale on the counter space before her, then retaking his seat.

"Hate to disappoint, but I only dug up your finances, and know you were with Poe and Joey. Figured that was good enough ... Kinda want to hear about L.A. now, though." The last statement sounds almost bemused, as if she's surprised herself somehow. This was supposed to be an in-and-out kind of visit, after all. Hit and run, baby.

"Uh... of the people who know Poe and Joey well? Probably all of you. Normal people? Not as much. Rich people may take the stuff, or even fund it, but they ain't the ones on the streets getting it made and distributed. I didn't cater to the... rich and sometimes famous. I catered to the fuckers with guns and shanks." Another huff of air, and she's lifting her glass for a testing sip of the ginger ale. Seeming to dub it safe, an actual swallow is taken, before green eyes flicker back to him.

"I wanted out. It's not really a business you... get out of, once you've gone deep enough, y'know?" She glances back to her drink, while her idle hand traces a lazy and invisible pattern onto his countertop.

She's choosing now to roll her eyes at his Wizard of Oz reference, and she's taking another drink -- slowly, this time -- before setting it back down, and graciously propping both elbows against the edge of the counter. One hand toys with the glass, while the other is put forward, palm up. It's probably not necessary, but in this particular case...

Her fingers curl a bit, in a 'come here' gesture, and anything on the countertop that isn't bolted down shifts a few inches closer to the pair. Fortunately, she left anything that'd actually fall off the counter out of her little talent show.

"That's... well, I could do that in Seattle. I can do... a lot more than that, here. Memories get... foggy, I guess you could say? I mean, I have no fucking idea a street was going to try and eat me when I decided to head back here, but... it's the Emerald City, as you put it." Vape!

"This," she shifts her raised hand, making a nudging gesture to the right, and the shifted items return to their places of origin. "Outside've Grey Harbor, if you do that with a few knives, or pull a few triggers..." A tattooed shoulder is raised.

"I could do more when I was fucking ten and living here than I could do in Seattle... but people get a little freaked out if you can do it at all. I don't get it, do you?" Giving him a dry look, and then another one-sided smirk. "So what's your superpower, Hooligan #2?"

"In truth, most of it was business related. I was out there working on a Business and Financing degree." Byron says, his dark eyes looking to Lex. "So not all of it was exciting, but, people with money know how to party hard. Hell, they afford to do so." Now that he's settled back in with his coffee, he takes a quiet drink, giving the blue haired woman his full attention. "Yeah, that does sound like a rough life. It's only really glorified in movies or on television."

A question comes to mind, one that makes his brow crease as he leans slightly forward, "How will you ever be able to 'fix' that? if that's the right word. I know, it's none of my business, but are you planning on just not returning to Seattle ever?" Then the real question comes up, "Or have any concerns that some of the trouble will show up here?"

When they get to the glimmer part is touched upon, his eyes focus first on that beckoning finger, before he catches sight of the fruit basket and wooden knife block start to be invisibly pulled in the woman's direction, while their cups and glasses which are closer to the counter's edge, remain untouched.

"See, in my experience, especially when I moved to L.A., I'd forgotten about any of this." Their abilities. "After I'd returned and the memories of it all," As well as his powers going haywire for the first time in years, "started coming back to me, /that/ was a rude awakening." Looking on Lex again, he seems to be searching for something. Rubbing at the bristle at his chin, he relays, "I sense that we have a similar Talent. Not the Pusher abilities." That's what people he speaks with call it, apparently, "But Reader abilities. That is what I can do," He then quickly adds, "And in truth, if I had those abilities in L.A., who knows how much farther I would've gone." He's probably joking. Why would anyone abuse their powers?? "But no, I had absolutely no memories of ever having them until I came back here."

"I'm sure I thought they'd come from somethin' that had nothing to do with Gray Harbor," she admits with another tattooed shrug. "It was... mm. That's fuckin' ironic. I can't remember something that happened there. Voodoo witch may've been spot on, as far as I was concerned."

There's a half-roll of her eyes at the half-memories, and the shaking her head a bit. When one of his questions lands atop... well, something that has her looking slightly bemused, she offers a dry, "You have to gimme an order here to work with. Your... pusher... memories, all that, or Seattle." Apparently she is a tad pushy.

Taking a slow, relaxing sip of his coffee, Byron says with a grin, "Let's focus on what's keeping you from pulling off this Santa gig without assistance." He sets the cup down, "Do you believe your troubles in Seattle will decide to reach you out here?" Rising from his stool, he seems to be studying the young woman again. He knows he's been doing some inquiring, but what really piqued his curiosity is something that's been more or less addressed.

"Anyway, was there anything else that I can help you with? While you're here. And..." He lets that single word be drawn out a bit, before adding, "Since you contacted me through Little's phone, I'll assume that he knows that you're here and what your plans are?"

"Oh, no. Poe doesn't even know I had his phone," Lex assures, because really, didn't he think otherwise? "But I did ask if you were rich. If it makes you feel any better, Joey wanted to know why I asked if you were really part of the poor kid gang before he'd tell me."

Seeming to take the hint, polite as it is, the woman's finishing off the ginger ale and tipping a chin toward the cup in thanks. Her vape is dropped into an unseen pant pocket, and she's shrugging into the once-bundled trench wish surprising quickness. "No, nothin' is gonna follow me. I'll let Poe know that I was over today, if you want. But if he calls and you can't get off the phone for three hours, that's on you."

"I lived in a large Victorian on Oak during my childhood," Byron says with a smile that's reflected in his tone. "Passed down from a few generations of Thornes back. "It was only after my father," killed himself, "died that we fell on hard times. Took up a few under-the-table jobs to try and make ends meet and around that time until I was of legal age to work." He stops himself before he goes on with what could be considered bragging, but he's rather proud of his industrious background. "Anyway, yeah, we all hung out."

Whether he believes her or not, that trouble won't be following, Byron nods in some sort of agreement or acknowledgment of her words. "Good. Though about my question about Poe? I just wanted to know whether it'll come to a surprise to him or if you wanted to keep this on the down low for whatever reason, in the case that one of us does reach out to the other." He'll escort her to the door to let her out, "Believe me when I say, that I'm glad to be of assistance in this matter. Giving back to the community." A pause, before adding, "Drive safe."