As @Barbara_Braganza and Johnny exited the Black Label Real Estate offices, he turned to her and smiled. "Damn! I didn't know you knew how to play some hardball like that. I'm impressed, Barb. Then again, I shoulda known, hmm?" He chuckled, eluding to her past without really saying anything else about it.

"Anyway, we should get this car back to its owner, yeah? Hopefully, before they realize it's missing!" He smirked as he opened her door and waited for her to get in. Even if she was still skittish on the idea of borrowing the vehicle without permission... Not to mention breaking the ignition switch off to expose the wires and such.

"What?" Johnny asked, following her gaze to the wires before walking around the vehicle with a huff. "I'll take care of it, don't worry." He shook his head and plopped into the driver's seat, only groaning lightly as his back pulled on the still fresh scar on his back. A few taps of the wires together had the engine cranked over and Johnny smiling again.

"I'm sorry, I love it when a plan comes together. We got business, a home, and a lot more to come love! Especially once I make that sell on the gym to Mr. Hyoudou."

He looked at Barb before putting the vehicle in gear. She seemed a bit spaced out after the meeting. Maybe it was too much people-ing. He'd seen that before. Hell, it had even happened to him a time of two. Mostly, that was because of Micky's annoying ass thugs in Vegas though. They really liked to poke and prod someone until they were absolutely exhausted and frustrated. Shrugging it off, Johnny turned his gaze to the road, checked his mirrors, then pulled out into traffic.

"So... Do you think we're doing the right thing here? I mean, with this Bella Vista Investment Partnership or whatever it was you called it?"

“Partnerships. Plural. We’s Gonna have more than one... lots more than one, ifs I can swing it. And yeah. Why wouldn’t we be? The way I figures it, it’s a win-win for everybodys. ‘Sides, somebody’s gotta fill Philly’s charity shoes... what with Hector being MIA an’ what not. Why’s not us?” 

Glancing at the wires again, she chewed her lip, “I’m a hellova lot more sure about that than I’s is about stealin’ cars for official business.” She laughed, but it was tense and cold; the smile of it not quite touching her eyes. She was worried. And, truth be told, with good reason. They *still* had a small fortune in stolen goods between them. And if they were caught now, there’d be no seeing daylight for a VERY long time. 

If the sell was done, she wouldn’t care half so much. But as it stood, there was still a LOT on the line to be risking discovery with Grand Theft Auto. At least, at this point, she’d have a good lawyer. The thought of which warmed her giggle... if only just a little. 

As they rounded a corner, Johnny felt Barb's heart sink as they passed a police cruiser. He saw the cop take a hard look at the car, but Johnny smiled and waved as if nothing was out of the ordinary. A close call for them if there ever was one. They were certainly looking for a car. He could tell from the distinct stare. Probably the right make, or color... But either way, not the right car Johnny guessed.

Looking back at Barbara he chuckled softly, the pale of her skin a tell-tale that she had probably about wet herself. "Woo, that was close, yeah? It's alright, you can calm down now. Ain't nothin' gonna happen. Don'tcha worry none, doll."

He returned his eyes to the road and made the next turn, pulling the car to the side of the road where it had been previously. Or at least damn near where it had been.

"Hurry up. Grab your things and let's bail. Just in case that copper decides to come and take another look for that car..." Johnny hopped out and tucked a few large bills into the ignition switch slot. "There, that should cover any costs and some for the trouble. Like we rented it instead of jacked it, huh?" He looked at Barbara and smiled, then followed her gaze to the cruiser that was turning on to the street three blocks down.

"It's now or never doll. I know you know what it's like to run from tha feds. Let's get outta here, but nice and slow so we don't arise suspicion yet."

Johnny briskly walked around and opened her door, shutting it behind her as she crawled out. Taking her arm, he led her toward their newly acquired property; straight through the open garage door, and out of the back door to the garage. Passing into the small alleyway between buildings, he looked at her.

"Huh, it's kinda nice through here. Anyway. We can study it later. Let's find a cab outta here and go see about getting a car of our own, yeah?"

Barb smirked, a particular thought finally settling in for the first time. “We’re buying joint property,” she mused slowly as if the significance hadn’t occurred to her yet. She’d been so focused on ‘business’ the whole time, she’d entirely skipped the ‘oh shit’ factor... until just this very moment. ‘THEY’ owned a house. ‘THEY’ had property in escrow. ‘THEY’ were going to buy a car.

Suddenly, it seemed as if the ground rose up to meet her, like the sky spun, or the stars all snapped into alignment. And Johnny could see a peculiar lightbulb go off behind her eyes. For a twinkling second, she look like a mare about to bolt. Then like a child at Christmas. Then, like what he imagined a skydiver to look like the split second before jumping... that moment riiight before your first time... and the smile right before a proposals accepted.

A waterfall of expressions danced across her features as she came to terms with the ‘other’ side of today’s business... each one melting seamlessly into the next like a parade of bleeding watercolors. And then, without another word, she slipped her arm in his and silently continued walking. A car it was.

The streets were busy, which was good for helping keep them out of sight if the cops were in fact searching. But hopefully, nothing would come of it since he'd left more than enough cash for the repairs, and probably enough for any possible lost wages. At least if they went to the right car shop and not some big, mob-owned chop shop.

Slipping through the crowd, Johnny led Barb to the street's edge where he looked for a cab. Nothing. Maybe the next block? Or in three blocks they could take the subway, the trolley in four... Those were options as well.

"Cab, subway, or trolley? What would you prefer, ma chérie? We can take any, or walk... Though I would prefer to not walk all the way across town to the dealership." He smirked. "I doubt they'd still be open by the time we arrived."

Barb grinned with a goofy, childlike, kind of giggle. “Trolley,” she chirped, with a lightness he hadn’t heard from her yet. Must be one of thos quirky artist things. Along the way, she prattled on about the car, without pausing to give anymore thought to the subtle implications of their joint ownership. “So’s,” she peeped curiously, “Yas got any plans? Like roadster, cruiser, sedan? We can makes it work with just the one, yeah? Y’think?”

She didn’t really pause for him to answer, the slightest hint of anxiety peeking through her calm facade, “I thinks we could. Hell, I’s so used ta walkin’ I’d prolly only use it on official business anyway... or in emergencies. Definitely in emergencies. It’d be stupid not ta use it in emergencies.” 

Yep. She was rambling. Reality was definitely setting in now. That was clear.  

"Trolley it is!" Johnny exclaimed and starting tugging her through the crowd again, mostly to distract her brain long enough for it to calm down. Luckily, it worked, so he began to answer. "Definitely not a roadster. They're great an' all, but I think a few more seats is a good thing. Cruiser, maybe. Sedan, prolly not. I don't wanna be drivin' my dad's family car. Hell no, it's a business car. Roadsters are for play. Cruisers are gritty, work machines. Sedans? That's like settlin' down." He chuckled. "And honey, we ain't settled, we're just gettin' started!"

As they slipped through the next grouping of the crowd, Johnny yelped as he got an elbow smashed into his back. "OY! Watch where you're goin', asshole!" Hissing through clenched teeth, Johnny stood up straight and held his back. That one hurt him. Breathing deeply for a moment, closing his eyes, he finally shook his head and exhaled. "Alrighty. Let's get in line over there..."

Johnny led Barbara over to a quaint little landing where others were waiting on the trolley. Reaching up, he tapped lightly on a young man's shoulder. As the man turned he gave Johnny and Barbara a look, brow raised, before grumpily spitting out an annoyed, "What?"

Johnny's brows furrowed, but he held his bite. He was in no condition to cause a scene currently. "Jeez, pal. Was just gonna ask when the next trolley was scheduled. Ain't gotta be rude. Sorry I bothered ya..."

"About ten minutes," the man huffed out, then returned his gaze forward to ignore them.

"Thanks," Johnny replied, flippantly before looking back to Barbara. "So what's you're idea on a car? If ya saw yourself drivin' somethin', even if it's just emergencies, what would it be?"

”Who tha fuck shit in your Wheaties, ya cranky fuckin’ crotch goblin,” Barb barked as the man huffed rudely. Johnny might not have it in him, but Barb certainly did. And no one treated her pretty boy like that. Sliding herself between the men, Barb readied herself as the man rounded on them... and came face to face with one of the many treasures eternally hidden in her nest of voluminous curls, the sharpest stiletto blade Johnny had seen in ages. Pausing mid-inhale, the man eyed Barb warily as she pressed it’s tip to his sternum; the edge glinting hungrily beneath the streetlights as the jeweled handle glimmered enticingly. 

“Pick yas next words real careful like, *pal*. Or so help me’s I’ll split yas sack where yas stand and have yas wee mountain oysters for a midnight snack. Yas understand,” she hissed, trailing the knife tip down his abdomen until it jabbed into his groin. Seeing the much taller man flounder beneath Barb’s petite but intimidating gaze was nearly comical. But Johnny could hardly blame him. Despite knowing her as he did, there was a part of him that didn’t doubt she’d do *everything* she said... just for the shock factor and show of it... and call it ‘performance art’. 

Palms up, the man stammered helplessly for a few moments, his gaze flickering between the blade pointed at his junk and the tiny European ball of fury that held it... occasionally glancing to Johnny as if in silent plea or protest. Though, he would find no solace there. 

“Maybe yas thinkin’ yas should catch a different train, hm?” Barb asked poignantly, poking just a little for emphasis. Wordlessly, the man shook his head as he backed away. Turning to leave the platform before mouthing ‘crazy bitch’ as he made his way over to the next platform two blocks down. 

Sliding the little knife back into it’s hiding place, she turned and smiled gleefully at Johnny as if nothing at all had happened. “Umm,” she blushed as she thought about it. If she was honest, that nice car he’d ‘borrowed’ for the bank heist is what she really wanted. But that was light years out of her current league. “I don’t know. Something SHINEY,” she settled, deciding NOT to deflate his excitement with her overly-exorbitant tastes. “Sleek-like, y’knows? Equally good for business OR a night out. Somethin’ classy-ish.” 

Shrugging, she turned back to the platform, “But I don’t know much about alla that. So’s you’ll haveta help me out. Yeah?” She smiled as her gaze trailed the tracks, eagerly waiting for their ride to arrive. She wasn’t quite sure why or what, but there was something about the trolley that always made her feel... *something*. 

Johnny couldn't help but smile. He had the baddest bitch in Philly at his side and he was certain even Kaya couldn't argue otherwise. Though he wouldn't tell Kaya that, if anything, to save face with his boss. Poor Kaya, she was probably the DRUNKEST bitch in Philly, but he'd let that one slide since she was also, quite frankly, an amazing bitch. Er... Boss.

He hugged Barb tight, wrapping both arms around her and resting his chin on her head; shorty. "Don't worry, I'll get us somethin' nice an' shiny. Remember... I wanted tha really fancy hotel. You shot -that- down." He smirked then kissed the top of her head and let her go.

"I'm thinkin' black. I like black. Black like the car we had yesterday, yeah? Nice and sleek." He nodded. "Shiny." Looking down the tracks, Johnny smirked. Barb's little display had wasted enough time that the trolley was in sight now, making its way to the station. Soon. Very soon.

"Watch, watch!" he pointed, almost as excited as her... Even if his excitement was in watching her own child-like wonder. Something about artists, they just had that look of absolute joy and glee with things that fascinate them. And it was beautiful and amazing to see first hand. Especially following that 'bad bitch' moment. Sour, then sweet. A perfect mix.

"Quinn's Automotive, here we come. Hopefully, he's got a nice selection. If not, we'll move on to the next dealer." He nodded, but truth be told? He really wanted to buy from Quinn. That's who he'd borrowed the car from, anyway. Maybe he could just buy it outright if he played his cards right. And Johnny -ALWAYS- played his cards right. What kind of magician would he be if he didn't?

The bad kind... Fired. Broke. Joble-... Disregard. Johnny was currently all of those things.

Barb was still adjusting to the whole ‘more than friends’ idea. In a lot of ways it felt entirely normal. But then he’d go and do something like kissing her head *in public* that just made her... pause. She did her best not to wiggle as he hugged her close, fighting the wrinkle that threatened to sneak it’s way across her nose as she bounced on the spot. Exactly how was it that buying a house was fiiiine but hugging on the street was weird? 

The chiming of the trolley ripped her away from her self-assessing thoughts, and she bounced on the spot as Johnny called her attention to the oncoming line.  Somehow, his enjoyment of her enjoyment, only made Barb all the more excited. So much so that she actually reached for his hand as she lurched toward the back of the trolley. It was funny, most people avoided that section like the plague. But Barb made a beeline for it like it was freedom or paradise. “The back always has the best view, and the most interesting people,” she chirped at his intrigued expression. Only pausing to glance down at the way her fingers had laced in his AFTER they picked a seat. 

Well, that was interesting. 

Caressing the back of his hand with her thumb, she decided it was better to just not make it a *thing*. And smiled at him innocently, letting him decide whether to move or not while she - instead - stared cheerfully out the window. “Remind me, and I’ll take yas on tha midnight subway sometime,” she joked playfully, “Ya meet tha most interestin’ souls.” 

She was quiet for a long moment, her thumb tracing lines along his hand that - if he payed close enough attention - traced the skyline of the city. Was she ever NOT ‘art-ing’? Then, almost out of nowhere, she turned to him with suddenly-sad sparkling eyes and asked softly, “If we’s didn’t go IN ta tha city... like if we’s stayed up in tha mountains or what have yas... do yas think, maybe, one day... just like eventually at some point... we’s could go look at Vegas? Like... down on tha city so’s I can get tha colors right?” Her dark eyes tried to read his face as she chewed her lip, “Or, y’know... maybe just FLY over?” 

Her thumb made an arching, oblong, not-quite circle vaguely reminiscent of the neon signs he so often regaled her about. 

Turning back to the window, she was quiet again. Her thumb tracing long lines interspersed with short, draping loops, as she sketched a cypress swamp in her mind. She had questions. LOTS of questions. Surprisingly, mostly about food at the moment. Seafood. And rice sausage. Her musings were short lived, however, as the trolley slowly lurched to a stop. The driver calling out the stop for Race Street as the bell chimed merrily. 

Barb’s previously pensive expression melted into a mixture of nervous apprehension and childlike excitement as they exited the trolley, and rounded the block toward a long, gated lot. For a moment, Barb seemed disappointed as she stared at the high, barbed fence with it’s locked gate. But, around the next corner, the building itself opened up to three large bays that echoed with the sound of pneumatic wrenches, open engines, and bawdy men’s chatter. They were definitely open. And definitely VERY lively. 

And, silently, Barb kind of hoped they’d have something suitable. Because, for some unknowable reason, she found that she liked the atmosphere here. Sure, it was little and the windows were broken. But it was still good. “Yep,” Barb muttered out loud with out realizing. Still good. 

Johnny nodded with a smile. "Yeah, doll. I think we can make that happen. I'll get ya to see the lights at some point." He grinned, then followed her off the streetcar at their stop. Race Street. Jack's crew owned the area, even if they worked mostly off of the pier. Quinn's automotive wasn't too terribly far down the road, and he debated on stopping in at the Cat and Phoenix bar of Jack's for a drink following their new expense...

Walking straight into the small yard, Johnny turned for the door nestled between the smallest bay on the right, and the two larger vehicle bays on the left. "C'mon. James is probably in his office."

Johnny opened the door and nodded, smiling at a heavily tattooed young man who looked up at them. "Johnny!" the man announced, standing from his seat and taking his glasses off. "How's tha Jonkheer?" He paused as he questioned, looking out the window then returning a serious gaze to Johnny. "No really, how is it, man? That car is special."

Johnny chuckled and smiled at the man. "James, Mr. Quinn, don't worry. The car is perfectly fine. It's at the hotel we stayed at last night, no dings no nothin'." James immediately seemed in better spirits at that and nodded. "Good. I'd hate ta have ta kill ya." He slapped Johnny on the shoulder and laughed. But everyone in the room would easily know he was serious.

"Actually, we're here about wanting to purchase a car. I know the Jonkheer is really special to ya, but everything has a price ri-"

"Not for sale, Johnny," James immediately cut him off. "I shouldn't have even let ya borrow it, but for a friend of a friend, I let it happen. I can't sell it though. Not mine to sell, anyway." He chuckled softly.

"Well, who's is it? Maybe they'd sell?"

"I can't tell ya that, John. Even I've got bosses..."

The room was silent for a long moment before Johnny looked at Barbara, and then back to James.

"Well then, whattaya got that ya can sell?"

Barb tried. Bless her heart, she really tried. But Johnny couldn’t help but notice the twinkle that sparked to life behind her eyes the minute they’d entered the shop. Trying her best to stay out of this one and let Johnny “play his cards”, she idly glanced around the bay through the open door while the men talked... keeping to herself like a good little girl. 

...right up until she heard James hardline them over the Jonkheer. It was like a tigress go in for the kill as Barb zeroed in on the younger man as Barb perked up. Glancing back toward the bay, Barb cut James off at the knees as he inhaled to start his would-be sales pitch. “Not much by the looks a things,” she quipped. Her keen eyes darting to a few key pieces and parts that lay near the closest vehicle, “considerin’ those ain’t tha bits that go with that engine.” 

She plastered a syrupy sweet grin on her face as she looked back to James, catching his gaze with a stone-cold stare, “Seems like mosta these beauties is out for shipping, if I hads ta guess.” Her smile warmed as she slid an arm around Johnny’s waste. “Not sure I’s wanna spend good money on a hodge-podge Frankenstein rip off. That is unless it comes with a class like tha Rolls. Y’know... somethin’ nice an’ modern... like a talbot largo... Benz Trossi... Auburn Boattail... Bugatti Atlantic. Y’know... sleek, slim-line, sexy. None a that boxy phantom or Napier or chrystler shit.” 

Glancing up at Johnny she blushed a little - ok, so maybe she’d lied about ‘not knowing anything about all that’. “I’s could maybe settle for a Horsch or a Duesenburg for tha right price, though?” Her voice lilted up in questioning apology as she realized the ‘princess’ has spilled out just a bit. But, hey, he said he liked high-rolling riiight???

James chuckled and looked at Johnny, "Girl knows her shit." Looking at Barb, he smiled. "He treat you right?" James was definitely a good looker. Not like your ordinary slimeball car salesman, no. He looked like he worked on the cars just as much as the other fellas out in the bay. But he also looked like he knew his way around the business. The kind of guy who you'd LIKE on your good side.

Chuckling, he waved his hand playing it off and looking between them. "I can get ya whatever ya want, except that Jonkheer. Like I said, not my car, not my place to sell it. And that's one owner I ain't gonna cross, if ya understand." He snickered softly. "But, all of that out there? You're absolutely right. Those ain't tha engines that go with those cars. Special orders for tha Race Street folks, if ya follow." Winking, James walked over to the window and looked out into the bay. Pulling a cigarette out of his shirt pocket, he lit it and turned back to them. "But, I can get you a Rolls, Benz, Bugatti... Anything you want. Got tha money, it'll be in tha lot tomorrow. Free paint, free cosmetics modification. Comes with the purchase." He smiled.

"And I promise ya, it ain't gonna fall apart on ya when ya pull out of tha lot. If it does, I offer a two year, full-coverage warranty on all tha cars I sell. Short of ya fuckin' up while driving? I'll fix anything that breaks on it, free of charge. Now, ya hit something and break it? I'll offer ya discounted work to fix it for tha first year. Anyway, up to yous." He gestured between them, then turned to look out over the bay again, puffing on his cigarette. "Ain't never had a customer wasn't satisfied yet..." he added while watching his men, and the one female, work on the cars.

’Shiiiit, he could satisfy me,’ Barb mumbled almost inaudibly as she leaned her head onto Johnny’s shoulder. 

“Think yas can work up prices on those that I’s mentioned... while my....” 

There was a loooooooong pause as Barb turned to blink up at Johnny for a moment... obviously torn over exactly what to call him. 

“...while Johnny an’ I talks it over?” She finally finished, completely giving up on saving face at all. 

Fishing into Johnny’s pocket, she lit two cigarettes before pulling him toward the windows just a hair for the mirage of privacy. 

“Yas got any preferences? I knows ya said yas good with fancy. Tha Talbot Largo and tha bugatti’s both similar in line design as tha rolls. But less fancy... like a kid brother. Not bad, but not great... iffin yas kosher with settlin’ fer ‘not great’. Tha Auburn’s more traditional like. More along tha lines of a Deussenburg. Classy but not stand-out. Nice enough ta pull up at a benefit, but not flashy enough to be pulled outta a line up. And tha Trossi is just.... MMMM.” She shivered a little, playfully. “It’s like tha rolls but more modern-lined and distinctive. Definitely look good on yas. But it’s gonna be noticeable. For sure. ... if yas care. You tell me.” 

Eyeing him anxiously, she really hoped wouldn’t feel too put out at her having stepped in on his negotiations. But she was just SO. DAMNED. EXCITED. Pulling a drag from her cigarette, she smiled brightly as she assured him, “I’ll follow yas lead. Whatever yas want. Even if it IS another fucking Imperial.” She elbowed him playfully, hoping to god he wasn’t too sore over Asher’s treatment of his last car. 

Johnny frowned slightly at the remark but snickered none-the-same. "Trossi is nice, but I'd move for something fully enclosed. At least at first. Maybe get the Benz later when we want to be really flashy? Because you gotta know I'm all for bein' flashy, doll. I'm a magician after all!" He snickered quietly, puffing on the cigarette she'd given him. "I'd say maybe go for the Talbot Largo. It's better looking than the Bugatti in my opinion. Or, get it -and- the Benz. Not like we can't afford it."

The hushed whispers between Johnny and Barbara didn't go unnoticed by James' expert ears, but he chose to keep his two cents out of it until they were done discussing amongst themselves. He took a glance in their direction before snuffing his cigarette in his palm and returning to his desk, glasses sliding onto his face as he returned to what he'd been working on while he waited.

Johnny shrugged at Barbara as they continued to talk. "Honestly, you make the choice. I really don't care one way or another. Ya know my thoughts on it. Can't say I wouldn't -love- to drive that Trossi though." He chuckled softly, then turned her towards James and joined the young mechanic at his desk.

Barb nodded in agreement, having an obvious lightbulb moment as she listened to Johnny’s points. “Oh shit, yas right,” she chuckled softly, as she allowed herself to be moved back toward James’ desk. 

“Alright,” she smirked, “Yas heard tha man. Talbot Lago. 36 Speciale, ifs yas can swing it.” her smile was much more genuine and open this time as she bit her lip to keep from chuckling at James’ glasses. What was it about specs that made hot guys insufferably cute? “An’, if yas would be open ta tha consideration, I’d like ta pay down on a Trossi. Custom. I’s assuming yas handled escrow purchases before?” Her voice lilted up in question as she passed him Christian’s card from earlier in tha day. “You can have your people get in touch with my people and work out all the details.” Her accent dropped away for just a split second before she cleared her throat and continued. 

“I’s thinkin’ black an’ chrome... for both. With a preference for red interior. Although I’ll take black on black if that’s an easier option.” She glanced at Johnny briefly for reassurance before adding, “Obviosly we’ll want tint and custom reinforcements for tha cab. I’s assumin’ yas more than familiar with that type a work? And I’s open ta yas expert advice on any other modifications yas might recommend.” 

Nodding, she bit her lip again as waited for in put from either end. 

James all but facepalmed as he looked at the card. "You're kiddin' me right?" he held it out to them. "I don't need the card. I know that name all too well. I can get in touch. He'll let me know exactly what you can afford and how we'll work it out." James shook his head. He'd be needing to have a chat with Christian about mixing businesses again... How was he supposed to keep them hidden if they continued to show their ass? Er... Heads.

"Yeah, black and chrome with red interior is simple, doll. No worries there. I can make it happen for both vehicles. We can talk alterations and modifications once tha car's on lot tomorrow."

Johnny simply nodded along with Barbara and James, a goofy smile on his face. He wasn't sure why, but James' reaction to the business card tickled him.

James wrote down a few figures and turned them to Barbara. "First one,  is for the Largo. Second one is the downpayment for the Trossi. I'm sure if you have C.B. as your attorney, that you've got more than enough to make it happen."

Sliding the pages forward, the first price was around five grand... The second, the down payment was six grand. "The Trossi is around twenty g's total... If you think that's a fair price, then let's get down to business."

James sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatcha think?"

To her credit, Barb didn’t blink. Glancing at the figures, she shrugged. The Lago was doable, easy, with what they’d pulled from Jerry’s savings. The Trossi... well, that was another story. Once upon a time, there was a version of her life wherein she wouldn’t have batted an eye at that number. That time, was a very long time ago. Since then she’d learned the VERY hard way the exact value of money. And a decade of poverty and desperation had indelibly left its mark.

Truth be told, beneath the calm and forcibly regal exterior, her two lives warred with each other over the exorbitant price tag. But, she didn’t blink. Calmly glancing up at Johnny, she smiled sweetly, “What do you think?” 

Johnny was, after all, the one putting the payments down this time. “Eleven’s not bad. But, if you think it’d be smarter, we can always wait until the new investments turn a profit. Or put a dependency on the escrow... maybe?”

There was no way in the coldest pits of hell she’d be making this decision for him. 

Johnny scrunched his nose as his mouth tugged to one side of his face. "I mean, it would definitely be smarter to wait for the new profit, just to be on the safer side." Looking at James, he continued. "What are the odds that in a few months we come back in, that price is the same?"

"Unless something changes with the assembly lines or the economy in the next few months, you're pretty much guranteed that price on the Benz," James offered as he leaned forward. "Best I can do is knock the down payment down depending on financing options. Which, as I said, I'm sure you'll be fine for if C.B. is your attorney, accounts manager, whatever you wanna call him." He chuckled. "He does so many different things money-wise, it's ridiculous. I swear it." Sighing, he stood and placed his hands on his hips, staring at the written figures. "Anyway... Let me know what you want to do. I doubt Mercedes will make too many of the Trossi's, considering it's such a high ticket item, but I really doubt the availability will plummet any time in the immediate or near future. So, I'll promise that price for two months. Then I'll re-evaluate the cost at that point if you're not back by then. Sound okay?"

James looked at Johnny, then Barbara.

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. We'll cover that Largo today and sit on that bid for the Trossi for now."

James nodded and took a seat again as Johnny pulled out his money clip. "So, five grand for the Largo... You sure that's not a bit steep?" he questioned as he tugged cash out.

"If you think it is, we can discuss the door..." James joked, smirking slightly.

"Nooo no. It's fine. Let's do this. Black, chrome accents, red interior." Johnny dropped a small stack of folded bills on the desk. "Tomorrow," he emphasized as he added another few bills on top of the already significant amount of money.

James nodded as he slid the cash over and counted it. "It will be ready for you by evening." He scribbled a number on a piece of paper and handed it over. "Call this number if we're closed by the time you get over here. No matter the hour. I'll come and personally unlock the gate for you to pick the vehicle up."

As Johnny reached for the paper, James pulled it back and looked him in the eye. "Oh. And do make sure to bring back the Jonkheer. Tomorrow." He placed the paper in Johnny's hand as he, himself, emphasized the word back. "Long as we have an understanding, everything will be in order." James smiled at both of them. "Either of yous need a ride home? My girl out there can drive ya back to tha room you're stayin' at. She's prolly done with her job an' just helpin' tha fellas... Or takin' their money in a game of dice." He chuckled, then turned back. "Er, not my girl as in like..." he gestured between them. "She's just my best mechanic." He snickered.

Johnny blinked at the remark, then looked at Barbara. "Up to you, doll."

“Uh-huh,” Barb leveled at James with a teasing tone of disbelief. Glancing out the window, she eyed the blonde for a moment before turning back and giving James the same once-over. Grabbing the sheet that he’d written their quote on, she flipped it over; fishing her charcoal pencil from somewhere in the alternate dimension of her puffy curls. Glancing back to the bay, Barb sketched out the perfect essence of his fascination with what seemed like unimaginable accuracy and alacrity. The drape of her hair and the slant of her back as she leaned over the open engine of a red roadster, the angle of her foot resting captain-Morgan style on the fender, the slight squint of her keen gaze obliviously assessing and absorbed, the way she absentmindedly chewed her lip and the almost ever-present spot left behind, even the fit of her denim jeans and the silhouette of the blade in her boot... Barb perfectly captured it all in a mere few seconds. 

Adding a tiny dragon clutching a sprig of lavender in the far bottom corner, Barb smirked as she turned it and slid it back to him. “Maybe yas oughta think about changing’ that,” she smiled as she watched the creases around James’ eyes with trained attention. Winking, she tapped Johnny on the shoulder as she stood and turned for the door. “Yas face changes when yas mention her. ... just so’s ya know.” 

Barb tapped her nose with a coy smile, shooting him the ‘finger guns’ as backed out into hot bay. “Consider that a good faith investment,” she called teasingly, “Take it to a European appraiser. They’ll pay good money. ...unless you wanna keep it!” Her tone lilted up at the end like a badgering school girl as she tugged Johnny out onto the street. 

“Take me to the Subway!” She piped, all a twitter once again. There was just so much to be excited about.