[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar Gonzalez[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]http://media.giphy.com/media/wbomIbUs5Bc2I/giphy.gif[/img][hr][b]Location:[/b] Dockside Parking
[hr][hr][/center]

	Smoker-Boy was forthcoming, even polite. The problem was, the conversation (short though it was) led the younger gentleman to ask a direct question about his presence. If he had just let the man wonder, in his usual, stoic manner, he'd likely not have an opportunity to ask properly until after the situation was over. Unfortunately, in an attempt to seem nonchalant, Caesar engaged him in conversation that directly inquired as to DJ's presence, prompting a reciprocal query. 

	Caesar had to answer, or look more suspicious than he obviously already did. Seeing as he wasn't an immense fan of lying this early in the game, he didn't. [color=orangered]"Storage. Close to the docks."[/color] he began, lowering the pitch of his voice somewhat. [color=orangered]"An expanding Private Security firm might want a waterfront staging point. Recommend anyone?"[/color] 

	It wasn't a lie. It wasn't [i]exactly[/i] the reason for his presence, but he [i]was[/i] actually looking for a storage unit. And the expansion of his business [i]could[/i] make use of waterfront space. The two facts were mostly unrelated, but it was an honest expression of his intent; one that would present itself naturally. He already had the name of the place he wanted to visit. All he needed today was an excuse to do a cursory walkaround, see what he could see. Who he was and what he represented was cover enough for his activities, at least on the surface. 

	Then another neighbor pulled up. The Russian girl with a thing for tight, synthetic clothing, so far as he could tell. This was getting odder. In an attempt to keep a casual feel to the conversation but still wrap it up soon, he quipped back to her, [color=orangered]"Don't worry. I might have the pelo bonito, but there's no way I could fill out those pants, chica."[/color] He gave a wink and sideways smile that was part masculine and part unsettling. 

	The Russian girl was easy on the eyes, no doubt about it. While the elder Mexican had little issue approaching much younger women, the circumstances of this unscheduled meeting (and suspicions flying about) limited his prowling to the above three seconds of his best impression of Super Creepy Rob Lowe. Caesar had someplace to be. [color=orangered]"Nice bike. Electric?"[/color] 

[hider=Super Creepy Rob Lowe][center][img]https://i.imgflip.com/17nyut.jpg[/img][/center][/hider]