where: the kline foundation who: @imanixkline & wesley hope
Considering his career, Wesley couldn't afford to be the type of person to refused to ask for help -- it was practically in his job description, leveraging his connections to get what he wanted, what he needed to be successful. Only these circumstances were different; they were professional, yes, but also deeply personal. The death of his beloved cousin, his family's legacy stained, Wesley was not only acting in the Mob or the city's interest, but also his own. Mostly his own. "Thanks for meeting with me on short notice, Ms. Kline. I was hoping we could discuss potential use cases for the finances coming out of my late cousin's estate, once that's settled." Obviously that wasn't really why he was there, but better the eyes and ears of the clean staff or other patrons around the foundation (if there were any) hear of his philanthropic intentions and run with it, if need be.
Once they were more or less alone in her office, Wesley allowed his shoulders to relax some, his typical poise on display save the hint of exhaustion behind his eyes. "I need your assistance with a few things." He said once the door had closed behind them. The male didn't bother to remove his jacket, not wanting to make himself too comfortable less he get distracted. After a brief moment, he followed up with, "and I've been meaning to thank you for the kind note, the flowers -- just," a dark chuckle, "haven't gotten a moment to write thank you cards yet."
