When he gets up, Willa sighs softly. "No, I'm not." She says sharply, before reaching into her wallet again to see if there was more cash in there. Slipped into the second fold on the pocket was the rest of the money. "Ah, there wasn't enough room in the main pocket." She counts out the missing five hundred, and hands it over to him.

"There you are." She's a little miffed; she'll have to buy a bigger wallet for next time so her integrity isn't questioned.

Julien Demassieux

Honestly, she didn't care what his name was - their business was complete, he had been paid.

But when he brings up the amount, she raises an eyebrow. "Our texts tell me differently, Julien." She pulls out her phone and scrolls up, showing the figure he was promised - encoded, of course. "Two thousand for safe delivery." Her hand tucks back into her purse, gesturing to the money. "How much did you count?"

Julien Demassieux

Willa glances back to him, quirking an eyebrow, before tilting her head curiously.

"Not a great idea to smoke around something that could be explosive, Juju, dear." She pats his shoulder gently and sighs, pulling out her wallet. As she does, she flips it open, revealing a wad of cash inside. She licks her thumb before counting it all out for him, handing it over.

"Recount, in case the bills were sticky." She commands him and waits, tucking her wallet back into her purse.

Julien Demassieux

"It's not an imposition." Willa smiles, friendly and accommodating, as she glances down at the directions. "Why don't we start by separating all the different pieces with their matches? That way, we'll know where to pull from during the directions..."

She begins to sort all the pieces together, pairing or quadrupling them off into their proper piles, before laying them all out in a neat and tidy row. "There we are... That's better. Now we can see everything we need." She taps the brackets he was looking for. "This is the next step, from where you're at, now."

She glances up and wiggles the instructions. "Let's get this built, in."

@quincy

When Willa receives the text, she gives her son an embarrassing cheek kiss goodbye in front of his friend, ruffles his hair, announces she loves him, and lets him know when she'll be back.

If all goes smoothly with the hand-off, she'd be home in time for a glass of wine before bed.

As she arrives at the warehouse, she click-clacks her way into the room he's been waiting in and adjusts her purse over her shoulder as he murmurs a good evening over his cigarette. She reaches out and takes it from his lips, taking a long drag, before putting it out onto the floor.

When she sees the crates, she smiles a bit more playfully. "You were a good boy, then." She taps her fingers on the wood, before grabbing a pry-bar, opening up the lid of one of the crates. Inside, illegal contraband; wrapped in neat little plastic packages. "Thank you, Julien." She glances back at him, smirking. "But please don't smoke around the merchandise."

Julien Demassieux

Willa smiles politely at the Monferno, and then the man who greets her behind the door. She accomplishes the feat of not laughing at the comical picture of the pokemon with the banana in it's mouth.

Within the mess, she can see the semblance of a desk, and a man sitting amongst its parts, trying to assemble it, the directions in his hands.

"That's fine." Willa answers honestly. Running a business is hard work. Instead, she opts to join him at his level, tucking her legs comfortably as she pulls her briefcase around her body to set it on the floor beside her. "Would you like some assistance before we begin? I'm sure having a desk would be helpful to sign contracts on." She smirks a little bit and holds out her hand, and offering for the instructions.

@quincy

Willa's heels clicked on the stone outside the building as she approached, carrying her briefcase full of paperwork and estimates for building supplies. She could usually get them cheap - even more exotic wood that would normally cost a pretty penny to import.

And the best part? It was all legal, so she could write it off as a tax receipt.

Once she enters, she presses the appropriate elevator button, and gets on, riding to the upper floors. There's a brief memoment where she pauses outside his door, taking a deep breath. She raises her hand and knocks on the door to the apartment belonging to one Quincy Cobalt, CEO and founder of Realgam. It's a high-rise, so she's sure he has a spectacular view - which meant he had money. Lots of it.

And she was more than willing to spend it to make his business' dream a reality.

@quincy