Barb chuckled and then laughed out loud. “Wouldjyas believe me if I’s said I bought a horse?!” 

She watched his expression, still laughing cheerily, “Wirey little runt of a bastard. But he pulled his first race somethin’ fierce. Under dog odds, Johnny. Under dog odds.” Patting her pocket, Barb beamed back, “Even if’s he never wins again, at this point we’s can afford ta sell him off an’ still buy half tha block.” Waltzing over to the sign, she leaned gently against it as she fished a stogie from her pocket. With it lit, she exhaled as she produced a notepad, jotting down the name and address of the broker: 

<font face="monospace">Black Label Realty</font>

<font face="monospace">121 Washington Ave</font>

<font face="monospace">Philadelphia, PA</font>

Quirking a brow, she tapped the sign with her pen to snag his attention. “Friends a yas?” She asked with a half-worried expression. It couldn’t possibly be THAT small a world, could it? Regardless, she had business. And she was going to get it done one way or another. Even if there were complications on John’s end... nobody knew her from Eve. She could still make this work. Albeit, a little solo for the first step. 

Scribbling down the address of the house, she tucked everything back into her pockets, smiling brightly. “So’s, we can do the house first. Or we’s can run up tha block an’ pick out tha rest a yas ‘investment portfolio’. I got no bones either way. Way I figures, mosta this area’s prolly brokered by tha same firm. So’s iffin we’s doin’ one, couldn’t hurt ta do the others. Unless yas wanna stay low an’ spread ‘em out. Up to you.” 

With a shrug, she turned and began to head back toward the park. “Oh, but uhh... yous drivin’,” she smirked over her shoulder, adding as an after thought, “maybe we’s should buy a car....”

”...or rather I should buy a car and lets yas drive me around.” 

Johnny shook his head as he chuckled. "No friends of mine, though I wouldn't put it passed that group to handle realty as well... I mean, we posed as believable probate lawyers thanks to the name and the way we carried ourselves." Smiling, Johnny walked over and looked at the sign himself. "Interesting turn of events though, if ya ask me." With a shrug, he shoved her shoulder playfully.

"If you buy a car, I'll gladly be your chauffeur, mademoiselle." Doing a quick twist, he spun back around and bowed his head, offering his hand. "Johnny Christ at your service, where to today, Madam Braganza?" He smirked, straightening himself.

"One-Twenty-One Washington Avenue, hmm?" Johnny nodded. "I suppose we should get to walkin' huh?"

Looking around, Johnny walked toward one of the few vehicles on the street. That wasn't a very far walk...

"Oy, keep an eye out, yeah?"

Taking one last look around, he slipped a small set of tools from his pocket and jiggled the door handle a few times before Barbara heard a soft *click* and Johnny looked up with a smirk. "Alright!" he said as he disappeared into the floorboard beneath the steering column and began prying at the ignition switch lightly... "Gimme juuuust a mo-," *thwack*, the sound of the switch popping out was followed quickly by the finished sentence... "-ment and we'll be outta here." Fiddling with the wires, he didn't take long to have the engine trying to turn over. One final rub of the wires and the car sparked to life. "HA!" he exclaimed and then hopped up and into the seat. Looking at Barbara and reaching over to unlock the door, he swung it open.

"Well don't just stand there, c'mon! Don't you wanna say ten years from now that you had tha guts to get in the stolen car?" He winked with a smirk. "We'll bring it back in the dead of night. And leave some cash for the repair on the switch. I promise. Yeah?"

Barb had absolutely no qualms about climbing in the car. Hell, after the last a job she pulled with him she’d have no qualms about anything short of the first degree... which, while frequently failing, she was trying her best NOT to think about. It wasn’t working. Images from the previous day flashed in her head like a stop motion film: Ginger’s expression of nauseated guilt and terror, the bloodstain by the stairs, George’s soft grunting as she’d twisted him toward the stairs and the choking wracking breathes as he’d slowly faded from the world. It had been more slowly than she’d meant... an ugly death, even for that greasy lowlife. 

She was quiet as they drove, contemplating HOW the world could possibly see her lucky after this week. And yet, the cash in her pocket, the man at her side, and the drive she was on... not to mention the current state of the world at large... all hinted that the universe was devoid of any real sense of order or consequence. And she was just a victim of it trying to make the best of a shitty situation by ANY means possible. Virtue and hon our be damned, she’d always survive... and come out on top if she could help it. 

Her fingers traced furious circles around the tender spot inside her left thigh as she sighed heavily, “I don’t mind tha idea a boarders. But I ain’t keen on tha idea a havin’ Ginger keep house. I thinks we should keep as much distance as possible... in case she cracks.” It had taken her a long time to weigh out that opinion. And she realized as spoke that the large white building looming ahead was, in fact, their destination. Clearing her throat, she straightened her jacket and smoothed her hair... an almost comical effort considering its entire LACK of effect. “But we’s can discuss all a that when we’s done,” she plastered on a fake smile and straightened up as Johnny pulled the car along the curb. Slowing her anxious breathing, she waited for him to circle around and open the door, grateful for the warmth of his steadying hand as she stared up at the architectural face of the biggest decision of her life. 

“Now or neva, right?” She smirked, trying to feign more confidence than she felt, her fingers shaking just a touch with mixed anxiety and excitement as she reached for the door. Johnny patiently held it open for her as she ducked inside, the hushed tone of business conversations echoing off the polished tile floors to a vaulted ceiling. It was bigger on the inside. And stuffier; the atmosphere making Barbara seem to shrink just a little. She could handle murder, but not a realtor?? Sheesh. 

For a brief moment, John actually thought she might back out. But, the bright smile of the dashingly handsome blue-eyed broker who approached seemed to anchor her to the spot. “What can I do for the lovely couple today,” the young man beamed, offering a timeless bow as he gestured toward one of the open-air offices. 

“Um... we’s....” there was a long pause as Barb glanced toward Johnny, ultimately deciding NOT to correct the mistake, “We’re interested in some property in Bella Vista.” She finished with a sheepish nod, already moving toward the office without consciously realizing it. “Ah! Puuuurfect,” he purred in return, “We’ve been hoping to see that area revived for quite some time. Business or Residential?” The dark haired beau slid behind the desk without offering a name or card, instead diving directly into a drawer full of files and forms. 

“Actually,” Barb smiled as she glanced at Johnny, “We was thinkin’ both.” 

The man helping them didn’t skip a beat or bat an eye. “WONDERFUL,” he chirped, pulling several files from his desk, “And do you have any specific targets in mind?” For a split second, he met Barbs eyes and the chill that shook through her was enough to make even Johnny wonder what the guy knew. But he continued on in the blink of an eye as if entirely oblivious to his effect on either of them, “we have some lovely properties on the Northern end of town for the discerning buyer. Or something a little more ‘metropolitan’, perhaps, for the hustling type?” This time he fixed his gaze on Johnny with a warm but slicing grin. 

“Actually,” Barb cut through with a knifelike smile of her own, “We’s was thinkin’ tha market district.” 

“Oh, yes. We have some prime locations there as well. Which were you thinking?”

”All of them,” Barb levied with a cold, unblinking stare. “The market DISTRICT,” she reiterated slowly and clearly. 

There was a brief moment of silence as the young man across from them sized her up. But Barb was unflinching even under his scrutiny. “I see,” he mused for a moment, his gaze following the maze-like snaking nest of her curls. “You do realize that would be quite...” 

Pulling her winnings from her pocket, she payed it on the desk with an unceremonious resting bitch face, “Any other questions, bright eyes?” 

The man blinked at her for a moment before clearing his throat, “I see. ... none. Just let me fetch my supervisor and we can get this all squared away for you. No problem, miss....” He trailed off, finally offering his hand as he waited for her name. 

“Braganza,” Barb offered, taking his hand. 

“Very well Miss Braganza,” he smiled, shaking her hand with a bow of his head, “Excuse me for just a brief moment.” 

Sure enough, after an all-too-short pause, the man returned with an older seeming businessman in tow. The two MUST be family, Barb thought... for the same dark hair, blue eyes, and striking features stared down at her from both men. It was almost uncanny. Not that she was complaining... not that anyone would ever complain. The newcomer, while looking far more authoritative, was far less warm. the polite smile he gave didn’t quite reach his eyes. And his staunch posture, alone, was enough to set Barb on edge as he greeted her, hands clasped behind his back. “Miss Braganza, Black Label Realty is pleased to advise you in your acquisition of property in Bella Vista,” he grinned. “May I suggest we move this transaction to a more private location to better discuss your interests and intended investments?” 

It wasn’t a question, or even a suggestion. And Barb found herself reaching for John’s hand as she collected her cash and followed them men farther into the building. 

The office into which they were escorted, was much more inviting than the rest of the building. Large windows with heavy drapes looked out over the rest of the city. A wide mahogany desk with plush, velvet chairs devoured the majority of the room, backdropped by bookshelves of fine leather-bound volumes and rows upon rows of neatly organized files. Barb carefully slid into a seat closest the window as the men filed in behind her.

”Now then,” the elder mused as he settled into a high-backed chair opposite them, “Both of you, tell me about your intentions for Bella Vista. How may I help support your vision?”

Johnny shivered a bit as he entered the office. Something seemed otherworldly about the two blue-eyed gentlemen. Something almost like the magic shop he'd stumbled upon in the old district of Philly. Trying to set his gut-feeling of -FUCKING RUN- aside, he gave Barb's hand a quick squeeze and then released it.

"With all due respect, what does it matter to you what our intentions are with the properties once we've purchased them? Just honestly curious, Mr..." Johnny paused, realizing he didn't know the name. However, he made an educated guess. "Black."

The man turned and smiled, that same not as warm smile. "Well for starters Mr. Young, I will not sell to someone who's just going to come in and wipe out all of the market area for something else unless I can see it being good for the community and city. In addition, if I like what ideas you have, I may offer a better deal for you with invrestment opportunities for my company. This is why it matters to me." His smile got a bit wider at the thought of good business while he watched Barb and Johnny. The two were certainly brazen enough to pull it off, and if they thought the Mr. Black before them didn't know who they were, they were severely mistaken.

"Of course, if your not interested in my offer I could always have Mr. Benjamin Huxley come and make a counter for you on my behalf."

Johnny's face didn't change. At least Mr. Black noted that the boy's poker face was strong. The girl's too. That would be incredibly wonderful for business. Whatever their ideas were. On the inside, however, Johnny's heart raced. That was no coincedence. Swallowing down the lump that tried to form in his throat, Johnny nodded.

"No no, that wouldn't be necessary. I'm certain we could probably come to an agreement that benefits all parties involved. Us, your company, the district, and the city proper. I know we wanted the house down on Woodland Terrace, and we thought we could fix it up to board a few members of the community needing rooms. However, Barbara, you have a better idea for all of the plans we were thinking. Why don't you let Mr. Black in on the thoughts we had. Perhaps he can offer some insight."

"Please," Mr. Black started. "If we're going to be business partners, call me Christian."

Barb smiled, seeming almost giddy... the kind of tickled self-satisfaction Johnny knew from working the streets of Vegas. Partially, she was just pleased to actually be DOING BUSINESS for once. But something in the glint of her eye told her partner she actually ENJOYED playing the haggling game. It thrilled her. 

“I assures ya, Christian,” she purred his name in a way that very nearly made Johnny stand at attention just form her tone, “I gots no intentions a wiping out tha market. Quite tha contrary. I wanna restores it. Or, at least, most of it. Restore and expand, I suppose. Tha market used ta be our beatin’ heart this side a town. An’ I’d like to see it as such again. With some modern additions. More than just farmer’s stall an’ eateries. I’m thinkin’ an inn, maybe a general or department store... an’ financed business opportunities for local entrepreneurs. I’d like ta see it a right bustlin’ Mecca. Maybe even add some kitschy tourist flair. Y’know maybe a park or an aquarium or one a those cute lil’ miniature trains like they’s got at tha zoo. Maybe all three if’s my initial investments pay off. Philly’s Central Park a sorts, yeah?”

She smiled at Johnny. With any luck she’d own half the town when all was said and done... literally and metaphorically. 

“I figures ifs I can get a leg up by givin’ other’s a helpin’ hand... that ain’t a bad way ta do business. And it’ll spiffy up tha city whiles I’m at it. ...AFTER I gets tha Terrace house squared away, a course.” 

She grinned, satisfied enough with her bid, “But if’s yas uncomfortable with tha idea, I can always finds myself another broker. I s’pose we could buy in with tha pier down on Race Street. I hear it’s always profitable... long as yas gots fire insurance.” She chuckled lightly, eyeing John as she waited for a response. Her expression surprisingly cold and resigned. She wasn’t here to dick around. She was here to make money. They’d either help her or she’d go somewhere else. There was no in between. 

"You can trust me when I say, taking business elsewhere won't be necessary. Nor is it advisable." Christian smiled, offering the duo a bow of his head. "I like your terms. Let's say I cut the price by half entitling my company to, at least in my opinion, a fair investment return of twenty percent for the first five years that you do business? Oh, and that you allow the BLL group to handle all of your legal needs as your rightful attorneys and probate lawyers going forward until sell do us part."

The unintroduced young man simply sat in the background and let Christian do his work, only piping up when he noticed Johnny's heightened anxiety. Oddly, it seemed rare for Johnny, so he slipped over with a drink in his hand. "So sorry Mr. Young. I didn't really introduce myself earlier. My name is Salvatore Black. Let me assure you, my brother is by far the best in this business. I can promise you that. We've been in this game for a long, looong time." Sal smiled, placing a hand on Johnny's shoulder.

Something about the way he said it and smiled afterward, set Johnny both at ease and on edge at the same time. But it was the grip on his shoulder that sent every cell in his body on fire. It made him want to grab Barbara's hand and dash out of the building and never look back. As if they were haggling a deal with the devil himself, and his younger brother. But he couldn't move. He was glued in his spot. Everything in him said run, but the truths were there. They had an opportunity to make some real changes for themselves. And the deal wasn't half bad.

"Well, Mr.'s Black, what if we discussed a ten percent return, but did so for six years instead of five? It's liable to make you more money in the long run and cuts out some of our overhead annually."

Christian stood and stared at Johnny for a moment, before turning toward Barbara. "And what does the madam with the funds think?"

Barbara was silent for a long moment, wishing she’d been offered a drink as she calculated the numbers and assessed Christian’s calm confidence. “Arguably, twenty is fair and reasonably doable. But ten is comfortable, safer, and smarter. Considering that I intend to nullify at least a portion of my direct out of pocket cost with pass-through contracts on the businesses that I finance, were I to accept your terms, how would BLL - as my attorneys - advise me in this acquisition?” 

She arched a brow. It was a tease-play, a check (although not a check MATE), a preview of his business practices bundled into free advice. From a negotiating standpoint, it wasn’t a bad move even though - momentarily - it put her at a disadvantage. It was a feign that capitalized on his position of strength. Because she wanted to see how the man would react... what kind of businessman he really was. Twenty was good for him, but risky for her. Ten could be good for both of them, IF her plan lasted successfully... which everyone knew in this life wasn’t the highest probability. Fifteen was a proper middle ground and the expected counter offer. If he was self-concerned, he’d advise twenty and pass it off as a safer short-term contract. If he were any average broker, he’d mediate a comfortable middle ground that was of no great value or detriment to either of them.  But, if he was the kind of strategist she thought, he’d advise ten and offer insight into proper legal execution of her rental and investment plans. Which, while less lucrative in the immediate sense, would secure longevity and additional services in the long run. A momentary capitulation to secure higher ground. A mirror to her move. 

Christian's smile finally widened. She was a smart cookie, an incredibly smart cookie. Bowing his head slightly, he chuckled softly. "As a businessman, I'd wager a fair compromise of fifteen percent, and the six years that Johnny suggested... As an attorney, I'd wager you to push for the ten percent he'd suggested, but without the additional year added on. Ten percent annually for five years is more than enough of an initial investment return. I'd suggest that plan of attack, and if the other counters then you could push for a twelve percent max, 'take it or leave it' offer. That would be my counsel on the current negotiations."

Sal blinked at his brother. He knew Christian knew what he was doing, but damn it if it didn't feel odd to advise the person you were negotiating with -against- your own deal! Why would he play that angle? Christian, on the other hand, spun and walked toward his desk to take a seat. Waving his hand, he suggested silently that the two sat with him.

"Since I'm advising you to push for the ten percent, five-year plan, which I can safely assume you will do?" He looked up at Barbara, turning his chair just slightly as he leaned back and crossed his legs; fingers tapping together at the tips as his elbows rested on the chair arms. As Barbara nodded, Christian too nodded. "Then I must tell you, as a businessman I need to try for the fifteen percent annual return, paid quarterly, for five years. What is it now that you will do, Madam Braganza?"

Johnny and Barbara both joined Christian at his desk. Johnny looked at Barbara. Had she really just pulled off a free consultation with one of the biggest names in New York and Philadelphia estate law? Smirking to himself, he looked at Christian. "I think I might actually like the way you do business, Mr. Black."

"Well, Mr. Young." Christian cleared his throat. "When you work two businesses and you understand which one makes you more money in the long run, then you understand which business practice is most important to the well being of your family. My law practices are more lucrative than my realty practice if only slightly. So you find me at a gracious period where I would offer my counsel even to my counter negotiations. If only to prove that, as your attorney, I only want what is best for your business. Because that is ultimately what is best for mine."

Christian smiled at them both, awaiting the counter offer.

Barb nodded with an impish smile. She liked Christian. He was practical. And she always liked practical. 

“Twelve point five,” she levied, her crooked teeth peeking from behind her smile as it widened. She pushed just a the tiniest bit past his advised twelve... if only to see how he would react. In all honesty, she’d take the fifteen if she HAD to. It was an AMAZING deal, after all. But she wasn’t just going to roll over for it. If they were going to work with this firm long term, she needed them to know - right from the start - that she was no pushover. They’d have to work for the money she earned them. 

"Twelve point five, hmm? Going against my counsel, Miss Braganza?" Christian chuckled, then smiled. "Twelve point five sounds lovely to me. FIve years, and I'm your attorney for all estates moving forward? Is this still agreeable?"

Johnny looked between the two. Twelve and a half really wasn't a bad deal, nor was the five years and acting attorney. Even though his guts said run, he couldn't help but like the way the pale, dark-headed, bright-blue eyed, slim Christian did business. He seemed trustworthy. And that, Johnny thought, was a bit frightening. He'd never met an attorney he didn't think was an utter slimeball. Then again, most attorneys probably thought the same of him. Shrugging the feeling off, Johnny set a smile on his face and leaned back in his chair.

"I think I agree with Barbara, Mr. Black. Twelve-five seems like a good deal for all involved. Especially if you seem to think so. I don't see why the five years, and you being our attorney, would be a deal-breaker in this seemingly win-win situation for us. I'm in agreement if you are Barbara?"

Johnny looked to her and smiled, happy when she nodded. As they both turned to Christian, he smiled back at them. "Captivant!" he exclaimed, "This is good, this is good." Extending his hand, he reached first for Barbara, then Johnny as they all shook. "I'll have Salvatore type this up quickly, and then of course you may read over the agreement to make sure there are no errors, as I will, and then we sign, no?"

He shooed Salvatore out of the office to start the official paperwork on the sale and agreement. "Don't forget, we're eating half of the price, Salvatore!" he called after the younger man who waved over his head dismissively. Christian chuckled to himself then reached under his desk and pulled out a seemingly old decanter filled with a clear liquid. As the top was removed, the smell that filled the room alerted all unaware that it was most assuredly -NOT- water. "Care to drink on the deal?" Christian smiled, pouring himself and the other two a glass of rum.

Barbara took the drink with a polite nod, but nonchalantly sniffed the glass before ever placing it to her lips... an idiosyncrasy that did not go unnoticed by either man in the office. “Saúde,” she offered with a smile, lifting her glass in Christian’s direction... the slightest, itching hint of an accent tickling the evincive lilt of the word. Sipping slowly, she waited patiently for Salvatore to return before looking the contract over. Everything seemed in order. So, with a surprising flourish, she signed her name at the bottom with little question, sliding across to Christian next. 

Sitting back in her chair, she waited for his approval before continuing. “Now, I’ll needs legal contracts for subleases. I wanna expand our current holdings as quickly as possible... within reason... and then’s the matter of John’s investment in terms of renovations, repairs, and sub-financing. I’s frontin’ tha initial purchase with his agreement to be my business partner, but I gots a feelin’ we’d all be more comfortable with clear obligations and expectations outlined upfront. I’m sure that your offices can handle that, per the terms of our agreement. Yes?”

She smirked at Johnny as the tables turned serious. She was laying a paper trail... with the best in the business. She’d asked if he was in. But had he ever expected she’d mean THIS FAR in? Grinning, she swirled her glass, “I’m thinkin’ sixty-forty for all renovations and the like for the duration of our five-year overhead... including investments made from joint ventures??” Her brow quirked, waiting to see how he would react, fully expecting him to counter offer. And, partially suspecting a distinct micro-change in his color or features. 

Partially, she was covering her ass... on both ends. Partially, she was making sure that he really could be as good as his word. But also, there was a small part of her that was relishing the game... AND the opportunity to learn his tells as much as she could. 

Johnny frowned slightly...

"Sixty-Forty? I mean, I know you're feelin' all big over there, Barb, but don't cut me short here." He chuckled. "Fifty-fifty. I'll meet ya halfway. You shouldn't have to put more money into this thing than I will. That's not right."

Christian chuckled softly to himself but nodded along. "I think Mr. Young is quite enthusiastic. Though having him cover fifty percent of the cost, after today's initial downpayment, is an advisable venture, Miss Braganza. I would advise, however, that if Mr. Young sub-leases any of the buildings, he covers all renovations and repairs on his own dime. I would also advise, pending on the amount he is paying for the lease, that the two of you come to an agreement about what percentage of his profit margin goes to you as part of the building's overhead costs."

Johnny frowned slightly and looked at Christian, "Now wait a minute. If I'm a business partner, and I'm already paying a sub-lease contract, why would I pay any profit to her? Not that I'm really -against- it, but why?"

"As your property manager, she can make the rules. Perhaps your lease is lower the more percentage you give up. Or, perhaps you split everything down the middle, straight. Whatever works for the two of you." Christian shrugged. "Personally, even though I'm advising the profit merger, hardly anyone ever makes the agreement. That's where extortion comes in. You pay her profit, and you stay open." Grinning, he looked between Barb and Johnny. If he was right, Barbara wouldn't do that to her so-called business partner. Nor would Johnny actually agree to it. At least he hoped. Otherwise, this would be an incredibly bumpy journey for all three of them. Taking a drink from his glass, he twirled it and finally allowed his eyes to draw away from the pair and watch the swirling liquid.

Johnny turned and looked to Barb. "Here's what I'm willing to do. Fifty percent of all costs, minus the downpayment that you insist on covering yourself, I'll match. Any joint adventures, we split profit fifty-fifty. And singular adventures, I'll sub-lease just like everyone else for a fair price, and then I'll keep profits as you should from your ventures. Obviously without a sub-lease because you already own the property. Sound fair?"

Christian looked at Barb and nodded -ever so slightly- over his glass, but remained silent, awaiting for the woman to speak for herself.

Barb chuckled aloud, both men obviously misunderstanding her. “I guess I’s wasn’t very clear,” she smirked brightly. “I don’t intend on makin’ yas sublease anythin’, Big Shot.” Her eyes rolled slightly as she goaded him. “What I meant was,” her tone changed abruptly, her words sharply pointed with crystalline clarity, “In so far as I am concerned, you would be considered a full and equal partner and co-owner in this initial purchase, IF you would be willing, moving forward, to cover sixty percent of the initial renovations and repairs to OUR buildings to bring them up to at least a minimally acceptable functioning level for sublease to other businesses. Until such a time that your your costs at that sixty-percent have equaled my initial property investment plus fifty percent of any further property acquisitions made in the interim. DURING which time, and hereunto, we split all profit fifty-fifty. And AFTER which time your apportioned obligation would drop to fifty-percent.” 

Her focus shifted to Christian, “So, the subleases will be for future clients whom we agree to finance, for both business and residential contracts, at our properties. Obviously, not an immediate necessity. But I would like to get that ball rolling as soon as possible, as well as having your brokerage create a portfolio of additional ancillary properties that would be a boon to our overall vision and goal. I  assume, once everything is order for this contract that I can have a quote from your offices for both of those services sent over within a few days?”

Shifting in her seat, Barb sipped her drink quietly for a moment, her brows knitting together with the effort, “As for joint versus independent ventures... Obviously the aforementioned fifty-fifty is acceptable for all joint ventures. But, and this is only a spitball idea, how would you feel - given that the properties themselves are would be a joint venture in a sense - negating the sublease idea altogether and simply pooling say twenty to twenty-five percent of any and all independent venture-profit into an investment account for further acquisitions? As a guarantee to secure Mr. Black’s representation of both our needs?” 

Taking another sip, her voice lilted up a bit, as she cleared her throat; her tone and verbiage returning to normal, “Unless acourse either a yas find that ta be unadvisable or generally objectionable...?” Glancing between them, Barb squirmed a bit in her chair. Her confidence was waning a bit the longer they negotiated. They were, after all, here in a stolen vehicle. And, after last week’s affairs, she was torn between getting it off her hands and NOT accidentally backing Johnny into a misunderstanding. There was no part of her that wanted to take advantage of him... in fact, she’d hoped that her winnings would provide cover for laundering the money they’d stolen... a legitimate front on which to build a future. But she needed him in it WITH her. And now she feared that, in her haste, she’d somehow miscalculated a grave mistake.  

Christian shook his head and picked up a pen, pausing before writing his name and looking at Johnny with his brow raised in anticipation. Johnny, on the other hand, slinked back into his chair and pursed his lips.

"Oh," he chuckled out, smiling as he realized his mistake.

"I mean, yeah. That sounds absolutely great to me." He offered a hand to Barbara. "All official-like, yeah? Miss Braganza?"

Christian smiled and signed his name. C. B. Black. "Perfect," he added as he slid the papers over to Johnny, who turned and signed his name above Christian's and below Barbara's.

"So," Christian started as he snatched up the papers before Johnny's pen hit the desk. "Our firm will have any and all documentation ready for you within the week, and I will personally see to it that they are prioritized above all else so one can assume an earlier date, even if the week is policy standard for us on a normal basis." He stacked the contract and slid it all into one folder marked -Bella Vista Market- and tucked it into his desk.

"As for the brokerage account, do you have a business name you'd like to file under, or will it simply be both of your names on the account? Either is fine and doable, we just need to know for legalities. Though," he leaned across his desk, placing both hands flat. "Off the record, I suggest a shell corporation to funnel funds through. Makes you as a person less liable for any issues, and the money is easier to hide and make disappear."

Christian cleared his throat and stood back up, correcting his tie and snugging it to his neck. "Now, what is your decision on the brokerage account?"

Johnny looked at Barbara and then turned to Christian. "I think we'll do a business name to run everything through, but we may need a moment to think of that, yeah?"

"Certainly, by all means. We can do this anytime... The earlier the better, of course." Christian turned away from them and looked out of his window to the street lights as they flickered on. Had they really been there the entire evening haggling and negotiating? Shrugging, he added. "Feel free to speak amongst yourselves. I can wait as long as you'd like. Or, you can see yourselves out and come back after a more private discussion on a business name."

Johnny looked at Barb and shrugged silently. "Up to you, partner." He smiled wide.

Barb thought for a brief second, her eyes sparkling as the wheels in her head spun. “Philly seems ta be real amenable ta tha non-profit sector recently. Let’s go with a charitable organization, if we’s can... somethin’ aimed at enriching tha economic hardships a tha area. I’m thinkin’ “Bella Vista Investment Partnerships”... because all our client’s is VIPs.” She chuckled. It was cheesy as HELL and she knew it. 

“It’s awful. But people eat that shit up,” she chuckled as Christian cracked a smile. She wasn’t wrong. On either front. 

Nodding, he jotted it down before offering his hand one last time. “Perfect. I’ll have the particulars addressed and sent for approval by the end of the week. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.” 

Shaking firmly, Barb downed the last of her drink before heading for the door, thrilled to have not just a house, but an entire portfolio in her future... and eve more thrilled to return the car they’d stolen. 

Cars. Next, they definitely needed cars.