Template:Opco business day convention scene

The final panel Q&A wraps up: five hundred delegates hit the bar hard: Actual/actual chit-chat is thirsty work.

Waiters boogie-woogie through the crowd. They flog cold beers and live crabs on overhead trays. Nippers gnash. Punters chug Satoshi Extra-Dry. It’s an on-chain open bar. The vodka luge hits peak. Daycount chit-chat hits peak. The accordion swing-jive hits peak: breakneck BPM.

The Negotiator makes a track through the hullaballoo.

Then he sees her. Hullaba-helloooo.

That’s — the girl from the agency.

The drinks counter scene is chaos & his bar presence zilch, but he catches her eye — just. There’s a flicker and its gone. She looks down. She looks away. She flushes red. There: she steals another look through that tumbling fringe. This is the moment.

He rams a Tortuga chaser. That bad boy gives him wings. He sidles up.

She blows her fringe and contrives boredom. “You following me, youngster?”

He cracks out ol’ *innocent face*. “Look, lady: I was here first.”

She looks him up and down. “Is that a fact.” She says it like a fact.

“Yeah.”

She scoffs, but vibes playful. She runs a finger round the rim of his glass. Their eyes lock again. “O.K., soldier, so you say you were preceding?”

He shrugs. “I guess I figured you would wind up here eventually, so I just made sure I got here first. I was, ahhh — modified following you.”

She spits her drink. He pops an olive. The zydeco wails. They get close.