It had been just over a week since Spencer Lombardo had arrived in Sacrosanct with next to nothing in his possession. However, unless he made you privy to that information, one would have a hard time guessing that considering the man had moved quickly to not only secure a new home but begin to replenish his belongings. While most of the house was still had only the barest of furnishings, there was one room he had completely furnished and filled. He had converted the second largest room into a small workshop for his little side business, something he kept to himself. It wasn't any sort of large scale operation, just a small one-man shop run from his house that helped fill his pockets and reclaim some of his losses. It was just a simple business of helping housewives encourage their husbands to "move on" a little quicker so they could collect the insurance.
Glancing at his watch, Spencer set down the vial he had been inspecting, the clear liquid inside splashing against the glass, first one side then the other. He was supposed to meet Dorian in less than an hour for drinks, though he wasn't entirely sure if it was business or pleasure. Then again, with the two of them, it would most likely end up a mix of the two. Still, he had another hour before he needed to overthink his interaction with Davante Dorian, which meant he could turn his attention to showering and dressing.
Twenty minutes before the agreed time to meet, Spencer was settling into a chair at one of the central tables. It gave him a good view of the doorway and easy access to the bar. He lightly held the top of his glass, the clear liquid inside running to one side as he tilted the glass, watching it closely. He set the glass flat on the table, mulling over his thoughts, before lifting it to his lips and taking a quick sip. Spencer had always been partial to vodka since he started drinking, partly because no one asked how it tasted. Of course, the ones that did usually received a noncommittal shrug, leaving it all to their interpretation.
His eyes roamed the establishment, the early afternoon a quiet hum of lazy activity. The evening was sure to change that but he still had many hours before needing to stress about that. Shocker, I know. Spencer Lombardo didn't like large crowds. He could slap on a charming facade if he had to but really he would prefer to limit the need. He would never admit this fact; oh no, he would be far too worried it would ruin or damage a reputation he maintained so meticulously. This could also explain why he always preferred large events with alcohol, something to take the edge off. Still, he shouldn't have any of that to worry any time soon.