08-03-2014, 09:52 PM
“Not at all, Mr. Oakland.”
She’d leaned in closer to Damien in order to listen better to his whispered words, and though she did look at him from time to time, her gaze shifted from him to the officials present at the gathering. Her answer was succinct and honest. Despite the interesting revelations, she did not regret her choice to ally herself to the man.
From the beginning, the entire meeting had been of some interest. The fact that Damien had chosen her in the small group that accompanied him was not gesture lost on her. Some of his cronies weren’t pleased with the man’s decision, but she paid them no mind. What she cared about was that Damien followed through with his promise.
As they entered the room, Camila looked on at the delegates, discretely judging their expressions as they watched Oakland and the rest of them sit themselves. For her part, she’d dressed in a way she’d hoped would let her blend in while still looking presentable. A sleeveless dark emerald blouse with a bateau neckline was paired along with a high-waist pencil skirt. Sheer black stockings, a thin black belt, and equally dark four inch heels, along with emerald studs for earrings and a neat French twist completed the ensemble.
After the initial pleasantries were over, the President seemed to stir the conversation to the matter at hand, yet his comments were apparently not direct enough for Oakland. Her gaze had turned to the man as he mentioned his conviction. In that instant, she measured him in a different light. A criminal was leading the cleansing of Mexico? Though her surprise didn’t show, she couldn’t deny its existence.
Later, as the Chief of Justice spoke, the slight doubt that had threatened her assessment of Damien was, for her purposes, appeased. Alavo’s observations concerning US business ventures and the cartels procured from her a soft snort. Was the man so lost in his own little world to just make note of that then? She could have told him that. The problem, to her eyes, was that unless both governments put pressure on the Cartels, it was far too easy for any the major players in Mexico to escape to the US. That was something she cared little about, and hoped Oakland’s intervention could prevent.
Crossing one leg over the other, she once again looked over at Damien and spoke in a soft whisper. “What matters to me is what you do now. I care more about your actions today and tomorrow than I do about what you did yesterday. If your… abilities… were what it took for you to be here and help Mexico, then so be it. However, your passionate friend might want to leave all talks of demands from the US off the table for now. After all, I could have sworn President Monero wants to avoid a bigger conflict with the States, no?”
Edited by Camila, Aug 3 2014, 09:57 PM.
She’d leaned in closer to Damien in order to listen better to his whispered words, and though she did look at him from time to time, her gaze shifted from him to the officials present at the gathering. Her answer was succinct and honest. Despite the interesting revelations, she did not regret her choice to ally herself to the man.
From the beginning, the entire meeting had been of some interest. The fact that Damien had chosen her in the small group that accompanied him was not gesture lost on her. Some of his cronies weren’t pleased with the man’s decision, but she paid them no mind. What she cared about was that Damien followed through with his promise.
As they entered the room, Camila looked on at the delegates, discretely judging their expressions as they watched Oakland and the rest of them sit themselves. For her part, she’d dressed in a way she’d hoped would let her blend in while still looking presentable. A sleeveless dark emerald blouse with a bateau neckline was paired along with a high-waist pencil skirt. Sheer black stockings, a thin black belt, and equally dark four inch heels, along with emerald studs for earrings and a neat French twist completed the ensemble.
After the initial pleasantries were over, the President seemed to stir the conversation to the matter at hand, yet his comments were apparently not direct enough for Oakland. Her gaze had turned to the man as he mentioned his conviction. In that instant, she measured him in a different light. A criminal was leading the cleansing of Mexico? Though her surprise didn’t show, she couldn’t deny its existence.
Later, as the Chief of Justice spoke, the slight doubt that had threatened her assessment of Damien was, for her purposes, appeased. Alavo’s observations concerning US business ventures and the cartels procured from her a soft snort. Was the man so lost in his own little world to just make note of that then? She could have told him that. The problem, to her eyes, was that unless both governments put pressure on the Cartels, it was far too easy for any the major players in Mexico to escape to the US. That was something she cared little about, and hoped Oakland’s intervention could prevent.
Crossing one leg over the other, she once again looked over at Damien and spoke in a soft whisper. “What matters to me is what you do now. I care more about your actions today and tomorrow than I do about what you did yesterday. If your… abilities… were what it took for you to be here and help Mexico, then so be it. However, your passionate friend might want to leave all talks of demands from the US off the table for now. After all, I could have sworn President Monero wants to avoid a bigger conflict with the States, no?”
Edited by Camila, Aug 3 2014, 09:57 PM.