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This wasn't the nicest bar in New York City- not even close. There were even better cigar shops. This one, however, had a lot of its own class and style. The recovered speakeasy furniture. The dark stained wood. It helped that tonight, at least, Miles Davis was playing jazz. As such, the Cigar Factory was full with those who enjoyed that sort of thing- and among them was Lex Luthor. She has a table all to herself, the fat cherry of a cigar burning as she puffpuffpuffed on the thing. A bottle of exceedingly expensive scotch say on her table with her, and at least one bodyguard was standing near her booth as she enjoyed the evening's festivities.
*
Another person appears, perhaps out of place. He is a youngish man, probably closer to thirty than twenty but however many years he's seen have been kind to him. He has a slim but well-defined build, his dark hair kept short. He's come in this place dressed for somewhere else, no doubt - a well-tailored dark blue single-breasted suit over an off-white shirt and a plain cornflower-blue silk tie. He moves to the bar alone and buys for himself a drink and a cigar and then wanders the room. He stops a moment before the lady's table, likely drawing a scowl from the bodyguard but he pays this little mind. "Good evening." Sylvester says, lifting his glass to the lady.
*
Puff. Puff. A smoke ring. Lex looks up to Sylvester as he approaches the table. She doesn't answer at first, sipping her scotch a moment later as she puts the cigar to rest on a large ashtray. "Can I help you?" she asks, as her bodyguard does indeed scowl. The bodyguard begins to move towards Sylvester- Lex raises a hand. The bodyguard stops, but grumbles all the same. "I assume you have good reason to interrupt my free time, Mister?"
*
"I was just being polite." Sylvester replies without rancor. "I was taught to pay respects to a lady, even one that can buy your city several times over." He smiles thinly at the guard. "Heel, boy. Bad dogs get their snouts struck with a rolled-up newspaper." He inclines his head to the woman. "Enjoy your slumming, Miz Luthor."
*
A single eyebrow is raised, Lex looking at Sylvester quietly. "Slumming? Miles Davis is playing. I'd hardly call that slumming. This is appreciation for good jazz." she replies. "And you haven't told me your name. You don't exactly pay respects without introducing yourself." she says as she lifts her cigar again and leans forward, golden-brown eyes focused on Sylvester with curious intensity. She puffs a few more time at her cigar and waits for an answer. "
*
"True, true." he replies. "Sylvester Pemberton. A pleasure to meet you." He doesn't have to decide if it's right to offer his hand to shake, since his hands are more or less full. Less, but still. "Why not have him play at your birthday gala, whenever that is?" Sylvester suggests. He lifts his glass to have a sip, his blue gaze watching the lady as he does. That done, he jerks his head towards the bodyguard, though he doesn't look that way. "They grow them big eherever he comes from. What do you feed him?"
*
"Idiots." Lex answers Sylvester's last question first. "Well, Mister Pemberton- ah.. yes. I recall that name. Steller Studios, isn't it?" she asks, as she nods towards an empty spot in her booth. Her back is to the wall- and she has a commanding view of the whole club from where she's sitting. "Take a seat, Mister Pemberton. Now.. tell me, was it just politeness that had you come to my table or was it something… more?" she wonders next, as she slowly ashes her cigar. Its not quite as thick as some CEOs seem to enjoy, but its certainly not something one typically sees a woman enjoying in this day and age. Still, Lex seems curious, though- watching. Waiting. Reading every movement Sylvester takes.
*
Sylvester stifles a laugh at Lex's answer. "I prefer 'man about town' or 'genius playboy', but I do have something to do with the studio. Still, I don't get much time there, it being on the other end of the continent." He does sit. "Thank you, Ms. Luthor." He considers a moment. "How dim would I be if I didn't speak to the most important woman in the world? But still, politeness, I like to think."
*
"Oh.." Lex says with a little grin, looking at Sylvester with a shake of her head. She takes another sip of her scotch. "You do know how to talk to a woman, Mister Pemberton. I'll give you that. Play to my ego. Always a wise move." she says next, as she lifts her cigar. "But, it does make me think you want something. Very few men approach me without some desire in their hearts." She pauses again, to puff at her cigar- whiskey and smoke contralto positively purring as she continues. "Then again, most men want me for my money. My power." in the low illumination light seems to catch on her bald head. She wears it fiercely, without any shame or embarrassment. "Scotch?" she wonders then
*
Sylvester sets his glass and cigaar down, then runs a hand through his hair. "I don't want anything, Miz Luthor. But I can see why you'd think so… I imagine people don't want to bother you, so they only do that when they really need something." He inclines his head at the offer of a drink. Luckily he's finished his drink already. He takes up the bottle and looks at Luthor's glass. "Don't mind if I do. Can I pour you one?" He shrugs. "I'm lucky, I suppose - wealthy enough to not need your money but not important enough to attract your attention as a rival. So, here we are."
*
"Then I fail to see what you're doing here. If you have nothing to offer me, you're just bothering me during a performance of a Jazz legend." Lex replies, as she leans back and takes another long pull at her scotch. "And no. I'll pour my own drinks, thank you." she replies simply as she takes the bottle from him and refreshes her own scotch. Its a fifty year old, single malt. Expensive. *Very* expensive. "Still, I do appreciate your stones in coming up here. It'll be good for you- look. The press is already taking notice." she mentions, as a few flashbulbs go off. "I suspect you'll be getting more attention soon." she grins still, "I like to call that the Luthor Effect. The rags will be abuzz. Is the indomitable Alexandra Luthor getting into the movie business?" she laughs quietly.
*
Sylvester winkles his nose as she takes the bottle. "Forgive my manners, then. It seemed polite to pour someone else's drink before one's own. My mistake." He looks around to the paparazzi and lifts a hand in greeting, he offers them a smile too. "Just what I needed. Another reason for my relatives to chide me for not being respectable enough." He stands, then, taking up his cigar. "I won't take up any more of your jazz time. A pleasure to meet you in person." He looks towards the stage. "Maybe if you ask Mister Davis nicely, he'll start the song over?"
*
Lex nods quietly, lifting her glass. "A pleasure to meet you, then. Do have a lovely evening." she offers simply before she turns her attention back towards Miles Davis and his jazz. Back to her cigars and scotch.
*
Sylvester buttons his suit, leaving his glass behind. "Of course." and he moves along, heading back to the bar to watch the performance. When the song ends, he heads out. "Hmm."
*
Lex waits for Sylvestor to leave, and then speaks to her bodyguard. "I want to get all the information available on Mister Pemberton. And his interests." Lex remarks to her bodyguard. "Make sure I know everything by the end of the week."
*
Then, she refills her scotch, ashes her cigar and returns to enjoying the Jazz.
*