There were certain delights that simply were for men and did not suit boys. Cigars were such a thing. Arturo had found a nice privately owned establishment in the old core of downtown, hidden down an alley with a roughly hewn entrance in an old building. The entrance betrayed the interior which was a well maintained cigar bar. Four smaller rooms essentially along a thin hallway barely one person wide, with a bar and humidor nested by stairs which led up to the bar from the street. In one of the smaller rooms, the beast waited.
He had had such a wonderful dance with the wolf in velvet he had made arrangements to meet away from court. While it took away their protections, it also rid them of prying ears. It was a chance to continue their dance, and perhaps understand one another a little better. It always served one well to know the predators which surrounded them.
Garcia had a selection of cigars already delivered, ready to be cut for when his partner arrived. On the table as well was wonderfully aged spiced rum, paired specifically with the brand of cigar at the recommendation of the house. It was quiet the set up.
The room they had was small, with a curtained window that looked into the dark street below, the thick wooden walls held sound very well, it seemed privacy was a matter of concern to the clientele. The door was solid, but unlocked.
Arturo was seated, an ash gray pairing of slacks and jacket (the latter of which was draped on the back of the chair), salmon pink shirt, and brown well polished shoes served as an appropriate uniform for the night. The Lord had arrived a little earlier to ensure things were prepared, it was rude of a host not too, and now simply had to wait.
Would the wolf dressed in velvet indulge the invitation?
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Presence
