Lena didn't need to hear the spiel to know she would agree to whatever was offered. She didn't care where the money came from, or how it was made. She couldn't keep on living the way she was. Cash was spent on her nasty little habit, whatever was left bought Ramen and energy drinks. She scraped by the first of the month, making rent by pennies. Her power and water were shut off almost regularly. If this offer was going to give any solution, even if it meant demeaning herself, she would take it.
Sal's sympathy was met with immediate skepticism, her brow knit as she searched his eyes for even an ounce of condescension. The nurses had all tried to comfort her when she woke up, but she found their empathy to be empty. Of course they felt bad for her. Who wouldn't? But they had no idea how it felt. They never would. "So, I didn't. I started over. I had nothing left to salvage, after all." She spoke firmly, more to assure herself that she wouldn't waver as his eyes bore into her.
In some ways, she was grateful for how Dario moved on from her sorrowful tale. He brushed aside the pain so many were all too happy to fixate on. She rolled her shoulders briefly, working out the tension she hadn't noticed was building. "Mechanical engineering. Engineering as a whole has always been an interest of mine. I had a tough time choosing a discipline when I got to MIT." Her initial passion had been in aerospace, inspired early by her dad's workplace. Though he was only a janitor, she was still awestruck every time he brought her in.
Lena stared hard at Dario, trying to decide if she believed his offer was real. Was it some way to exploit her for his own benefit? Or did he actually see potential in her that he didn't see with the other hot blondes at the club? She was silent for a few moments, her blue-green eyes searching for something in her employer. Whether she wanted to see lies or the truth was anybody's guess. There was nothing else to it. Just a word. Partner. She would be stupid to just say yes, though she had every intention of following through. "What, exactly, does that entail? I can't imagine I'll still be serving liquor as a partner." The word tasted strange in her mouth, but not bitter or sour. It was sweet.
Dario knew a lot more about her situation than the few warning shots he'd expended in the current exchange. Information was the most powerful currency in his line of work--so her rickety credit score and unstable living situation remained locked away in the manila folder he tucked onto his lap. Never bring a knife to a gun fight and always make sure to have more bullets than you'd ever realistically need.
He watched her interaction with Sal carefully. The man's eyes widened at her response. Dario noted her chin, tucked firmly and resolutely with immense pride. "No doubt that took a lot of creativity and resilience, "Dario agreed, almost brushing the thought away. But unfortunately, Sal didn't pick up the hint.
"I mean--just going out and meeting new people's hard enough. But with the injuries, and no support, and all that medical debt I--" Dario shot daggers at the man. There goes one more bullet. New rule; never give a pistol to an imbecile.
Dario rushed to intervene. "What my colleague here means is that you faced some very unfortunate luck. I get that--you know, I have always had a knack for earning, but sometimes luck bites you in the ass." Only a half-lie, and mostly one he told himself. After all, no one knew Tim failed to his own metaphorical death. No one knew that they spoke to someone more like a phoenix or cancer than a human being. So he'd outrun his bad luck. Or he hoped he had.
He nodded, uncertain how mechanical engineering helped him, while also knowing full well how adaptable intelligence was as a skill. She could help plan; she could foresee issues. He snorted through his nose and shook his head. "Well of course not! No, you'd have an executive suite, one connected to my own, and you'd merely consult." What exactly she'd consult on would likely change with the breeze. He liked to diversify his assets these days. "You'd be a personal assistant plus," he explained. "Because I'd ask for you to be my eyes on the ground, look over plans, tell me why I'm an asshole, call me sir... for fun... instead." His eyes glittered with amused determination as he leveled her gaze.
"What do you think?"
The accident and subsequent extended hospital stay was enough on it's own to completely shake up a life. Learning of her father's passing, the economic ruin she was left in, her education in limbo, the man she would've married having moved on without her; each blow knocked her further and further down. But what really tipped her over the edge was the dreamwalking. Waking up from someone else's dream of a sinking boat, coughing up water as she broke out of the nightmare. She never bothered telling a doctor. Who would believe her? Instead, she self-medicated with stimulants and adapted to the ruins she woke up in.
Lena had turned her attention to Dario for a millisecond, only to have Sal draw it back. She stared at him again, though this time there was no scrutiny. Instead, her eyes were wide in momentary awe. There was no sickly sweetness or overacting. He seemed--he was--genuine. No one had ever acknowledged what little she had to restart with. Not even the doctors and nurses at the hospital. They had the audacity to tell her it might be time to find her mother. She'd rather end up dead in an alleyway before she went looking for that woman. Lena blinked a few times before a slight smile quirked at the corners of her lips, though she said nothing in return. Instead, she cleared her throat and looked back to Dario, who seemed desperate to adhere to his agenda.
Mechanical Engineering was a far cry from working in a club, but Lena supposed Dario had already taken that into account. It meant she was good with numbers and problem solving. Businesses were nothing more than well-oiled machines, after all. She could fix cracks before they were even seen, if given the opportunity. Which, she was.
A suite of her own, a glorified consulting job; it all seemed too good to be true. She couldn't help but inch forward slightly in her seat, an eagerness she couldn't subdue surfacing at the offer as he laid it out for her. If there was a pen, her hands would be on it, ready to sign her name on whatever dotted line was presented. She decided, instead, to play it cool. She picked up the glass she had placed down and took a thoughtful sip. Once the liquid was past her lips, she hummed softly. "It sounds like the sort of opportunity I would be stupid to turn down," Collected, she looked over at Sal, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "What I would like to know is your part here. I can't imagine you're just a pretty face. Are you in another connected suite I should be aware of?" She could feel it in Dario's stare. He had to know he already won. So what was the harm in asking some questions and showing just how charming she could be?
