Well, Davante, keep up the good behavior (ha) and maybe Santa will get you a cat. Land on the naughty list, maybe the guy will help you find a different cat. As for lacking the traits to make him a good manager, well, that had yet to really be tested. Sure, he was probably going to be a difficult manager, but Spencer was holding out that he would be fairly successful. He had to for the sake of his company. Though, if he did turn out to be a complete fuck up, Spencer would be willing to take one for the team and offer an... alternative supply line. Not that he had anything against Dorian, it was just until personal feelings could pay the bills, business is business.
Spencer shrugged in response to Dav, his attention more focused on the person that made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Ha ha, Dorian. You got the jump on him this time, son of a bitch. Spencer shifted, folding left leg over the right, though his hips shifted his legs further away from his new reptile "friend." A subtle movement hidden by the table, minus the shifting of his body as he settled into his seat, shoulders rolling forward to pull some slack in his shirt. See her again? Well, damn. It looks like she might be the newest addition to this business-venture. Judging from her sass toward Davante, it appeared she would be as... prickly as him. Oh goody. Then again, he wasn't exactly a warm ball of sunshine.
Spencer returned Davante's mischievous sneer with an unamused stare, jaw clenching briefly, before his attention was pulled toward their reptilian companion. Pleasure to meet him? Forgive him if he doesn't take that as reassuring. Besides, the emphasis on her words accompanied with that look, he felt more like he was a piece of meat... in the non-eating fashion. Well, maybe eating in one- Yeah, that thought was almost more disturbing than the other one. He offered an empty smile toward Askaree as she nudged the second glass toward him. He moved the glass next to the one he was drinking, though truthfully he probably would not drink it. Despite his discomfort, Spencer didn't care for the effects of alcohol. For a man so readily willing to involve himself in the criminal market, he tended to be rather... puritan. He didn't like to be drunk, he strongly disliked being high, and he abhorred being shot or stabbed. Poisoning was annoying and inconvenient but otherwise fine. It wasn't like it could actually hurt him.
Hey, Dorian is running is his mouth again. Thank God. For once. Despite himself, an amused half-smile crept across his face as she spoke, amused by her comment on the clientele that came into the shop. It was true, most of them were half-wits that he wondered how they weren't in prison or dead yet. Especially the dead part considering how fucking annoying the pissants could be and that Dorian had originally been the point of contact. "For curiosity's sake, what is your..." Spencer trailed off momentarily, mulling over the correct word/phrase as he rolled the vodka around the glass, "...area of expertise? Since we'll be working together in some form or fashion." Yes, please, let's catch Spencer up to speed.