[Mr. Gavin was smiling. That was almost never a good thing. Apollo’s tense again, like he always is while speaking to his boss, watching to make sure that he’s completely ready for… well, anything. Not like he expected Mr. Gavin to attack him, but… there were so many things that he didn’t want the older man to know, it was hard not to be tense around him.
He just nods at the order to take a seat, pulling the chair out and sitting back-straight, gloved hands loosely crossed over his lap at the wrist. Progress…? Shouldn’t Mr. Gavin already know about this? Choosing his words carefully, Apollo answers,]
Of course not, sir. I’ve been working on what you’ve asked of me — there are several small-time politicians who will answer to you now, and some of the police. I can give you a complete list of their names, if you require it. There’s an underground gambling hall that wants protection from us, and I’m in the middle of negotiating with their leader.
[He doesn’t mention that he’d almost had Flora to work with them — better to keep her out of it. He doesn’t mention anything with the Borscht Bowl, though he’s certain that he could take control of that business fairly easily, or at least have them working with them — after all, Phoenix worked there.]
…That’s all I have to report in the way of progress, sir.
[Apollo’s tension is more than obvious as he takes his seat before him, though it’s nothing out of the ordinary, the other man generally wound tight as a spring whenever Kristoph has the pleasure of being in his company. But then he begins to speak, and what he says is, indeed, sweet. Even if he does know most of it. Even if what Apollo is telling him is simply a recap, a putting together of all of the things that he’s accomplished since he’d come back to work for him.
A quiet sigh, and the blonde leans back in his chair, that small smile remaining on his lips, though it never truly reaches his eyes. At least not in any warm sort of way that one might expect such a thing as a smile to.]
That is quite the list, Mr. Justice. And to think that I ever had any sort of doubt in you, at all. This gambling hall. Tell me: What sort of protection are they looking for, and what do they offer in return? I want you to continue to negotiate with them, of course, as something like that very well could be our first real connection in this world. Small-time politicians are only good for so much, after all. However, think of the possibilities when it comes to a network of businesses such as these. Why, we could be out of this ridiculous apartment in no time at all, if such a thing were to turn out.
[Of course, his expectations are probably far too high for this world, but oh, what pleasure it gives him to imagine such things. And with that, he disentangles his fingers, one hand motioning fluidly toward a silver pot that sits at one corner of his desk.]
Tea, Mr. Justice?