Curiosity turned to surprise: Nathaniel had clearly not considered the point Duncan was making. He took a quick glance from one wall to the ceiling up high and then to the wall on the other side. Before he had a chance to comment, however, the follow-up question hit him like a truck. Nathaniel, flabbergasted and gravely insulted looked to the man "El- electric?! I may be a little prim and proper but I'm no pantsy ass European. This-..." he cut himself off, catching himself getting a little too invested in the rebuke. With a methodical sigh, he recomposed himself and softened his tone "Look, this is a Bentley Flying Spur. It has an eight-speed dual-clutch automatic transmission, all-wheel drive and a 626-hp W-12 engine. It goes to sixty in three seconds - four tops. This is an American beauty. Hit me up on a sunnier day and I'll let you take the wheel."
With a quick glance, the lawyer eyed the others before raising his palms disarmingly and letting out an awkward "Sorry, go on."
Apparently lacking the intent to do anything himself, Nathaniel looked on as the others went to work. Curiously, he observed Clementine as her eyes shifted from a fiery storm and their normal blues. Then Errol as he kicked the industrial lamps to life. He offered the two of them an approving nod before returning to the car to quickly check on the French girl and then to shut it off. Soon, the door slammed shut once more and the cave that had once been filled by the low but powerful rumble of the car fell silent.
The lawyer moved towards Clementine with a smile "Careful about that. I've doubble checked the inventory of this place personally. If anything in here breaks, I'll expect market value compensation." While his tone might have been light and easy-going, the words most certainly carried no sarcasm. He flicked his head to the side to get a strand of hair out of his face as he approached. The movement was imprinted in his muscle memory and went without thinking.
Once there, he lined up next to the girl, putting his hands in his pockets. He looked to her with a degree of compassion and warmth that could only stem from experience "Clementine, I've seen that look before. In other clients. How are you holding up?"
With a quick glance, the lawyer eyed the others before raising his palms disarmingly and letting out an awkward "Sorry, go on."
Apparently lacking the intent to do anything himself, Nathaniel looked on as the others went to work. Curiously, he observed Clementine as her eyes shifted from a fiery storm and their normal blues. Then Errol as he kicked the industrial lamps to life. He offered the two of them an approving nod before returning to the car to quickly check on the French girl and then to shut it off. Soon, the door slammed shut once more and the cave that had once been filled by the low but powerful rumble of the car fell silent.
The lawyer moved towards Clementine with a smile "Careful about that. I've doubble checked the inventory of this place personally. If anything in here breaks, I'll expect market value compensation." While his tone might have been light and easy-going, the words most certainly carried no sarcasm. He flicked his head to the side to get a strand of hair out of his face as he approached. The movement was imprinted in his muscle memory and went without thinking.
Once there, he lined up next to the girl, putting his hands in his pockets. He looked to her with a degree of compassion and warmth that could only stem from experience "Clementine, I've seen that look before. In other clients. How are you holding up?"