The chosen location
Megan Drier

The lounge bar was a charming place, if you're charmed by obvious expensiveness, that is. Leather couches that looked both comfortable and slightly intimidating. A sublime list of cocktails - for those who could drink them, at least, since the blood-based options were, on the other hand, conspicuously poor. Soft lights, soft music - a cushy bubble of sound that let you talk easily to your interlocutor, at the same time making eavesdropping all but impossible.

The redhead sat on a slick burgundy couch, sipping a light pink sparkly something. She was dressed formally: a well-tailored midnight blue pantsuit, an impeccable white shirt. Her mane, however, was untamed, surrounding her face with wild ginger waves.

She rose as Maxwell got in. He hadn't seen her before, not that he could remember. On the other hand, she seemed to recognise him.

"Good evening. I'm Megan Drier. I hope this location wasn't too bothersome to find".

The inevitable small talk. They were there to discuss business, however. There was time for that.
"Good evening Megan,  I've met other clients here before. It's to my liking," he said as he reached his hand out to shake. He wore a  dark charcoal gray suit and his left hand held a black umbrella aloft. Then he took the seat across from her. So, how might I be of assistance to you this evening?
Megan Drier

She nodded, accepting his handshake. "Excellent!". Her grip was firm, her hand however was warm, soft - human. "I know we've been a bit vague on the phone, but as you surely know there are matters you can only discuss in person. So... We're looking for a location to host an event. Now, that sounds easy enough, isn't it? Why don't we just go and rent - " A wide gesture hinted to the surroundings. "Not any pretty place would do, however. Discretion - discretion is the key word we're looking for. And class, of course. But, discretion first, correct? So... Is that something you can help us with?".
She reclined back on the couch - a luxurious monster that refrained from swallowing her as a personal courtesy, so it seemed. She took another sip of her pink evanescent liquid.
“I believe I can accommodate such a requests. I just need to know the particulars. What type of engagement this is? How long will it be for, so that I may better anticipate your needs.” He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. “Depending upon the very nature of this engagement a few variables change. An exclusively private auction comes to mind, an upscale gala, etc. Will you be needing a cleanup crew afterwards that sort of the thing.”
Megan Drier

He was asking all the right questions, indeed, although she wasn't entirely sure how far they could go. Not yet. That was something she was meant to discover. "It will take only a night. Something between a political meeting and a gathering of friends, if it makes sense for you... As for the number, you'll be provided with all details as soon as they are available. Details. Those were details, indeed. "As for the cleanup. It could be needed, yes. That's where discretion is absolutely required, if you know what I mean". She looked at him, checking for any sort of reaction.
Max stood stock still listening to he her explanation of arrangements. Almost drinking in the in the detail. There was no counter offers needed, no staccato of back and forths disguised as polite arguments or courteous disagreements. No, there simply wasn't a need for that age-old dance.
His simply was a service provided to quilty professionals of like minds and interest. There were others that could provide the same within the city. in fact just as professional if not more. No. they came to Maxwell for one reason. Quality. Clients who came to him they already knew his prices and what to expect.
As Megan finished his expression seemed impassive as if he herd requests like this often. Business would elicit no real emotion from this man, it was seeing the job done right that put a smile on his face. "Discretion won't be an issue and I believe we will be able to accommodate your request without any unforeseen circumstances."

He pulled out a business card and handed it over to her, " Make the initial deposit there and the rest an hour before the event." He said indicating the directions on the card. " Do you have any questions or concerns?" Maxwell asked with a slight eyebrow raised
Megan Drier

A knowing smile on her face. "I think we have a deal". She had come to that meeting knowing they had one. She'd done her research. There were no concerns. Money was such a non-issue for her boss, a few words in their cleverly vague phone call had been enough to agree on that. Reliability, though - that was a more delicate matter. All information she could gather pointed at him as the right person. A face-to-face meeting, however, was precious, much more than any amount of data analysis or even word-of-mouth advice. But now she knew. "For any update, you can contact me here". She handed him a light-gray business card; numbers and addressess all different from what Maxwell had been contacted from. "To mutual success!". She swallowed what was left of her pink fizzy thing, ready to greet and leave if there was any question from the other side.

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