There was something drab about the way the man looked, like an unfinished clay sculpt. That is until he cocked his head a certain way or flashed his teeth like he did when the young woman introduced herself. He shook her proffered hand like a businessman would -- firmly, directly, engulfing her smaller one in his larger, warmer one. It was in that moment that Remy looked like something sculpted and long since hardened from a kiln, all angles and ridges, and strangely symmetrical. Still in a way that made him handsome, but also in the way that made people stare at him twice as long as they would stare at anyone else, shockingly handsome or otherwise, just so they could figure out the puzzle of his features.<br/><br/><br/>Remy was already reaching into the inner pocket of his blazer to pull out a thin business card when the familiar face crept up like a stalking cat at just the right moment to pounce her prey. His flint stare caught sight of Nora before she had fully come to take her place by Lane Barnes’ side, making him palm the business card and swallow his introduction further. His features were carefully secure, the smile on his face pleasantly surprised as his attention turned from the blonde to the brunette now next to him at the bar.<br/><br/><br/>“My apologies for interrupting your evening, ladies. My apologies especially to you, Nora. If I had known you were going to be in town at the same time that I was, I would have given you a call to set up a meeting. It’s been a little while since we had the opportunity to catch up. Though it’s pleasantly surprising to find you here with the same woman I was sent to speak with. Is it a coincidence or were you sent as well?” The tone of his voice suggested that he was pleased at this turn of events, but the glint of his stare suggested something different. Curiosity, or suspicion, that Nora was there for a purpose similar to what Remy was there for.<br/><br/><br/>He rose from the bar stool he had occupied just as the bartender delivered their drinks. Rounding around Lane, he pulled himself up close to Nora and kissed the air just a milimeter away from her actual skin in a polite greeting before reaching behind her to pull the bar stool out for her. “Sit down. I might as well get down to business, then perhaps all three of us can catch up on the course of events that I suspect have, in some way or another, brought us all here together tonight. Would you like a drink, Nora?” He nodded toward the bartender that had turned his attention on the brunette now, expectantly, at the signal from Remy, who had taken his seat once more, leaving Lane wedged between the two of them at the bar.<br/><br/><br/>“I have an invitation for you, Ms. Lane Barnes, on behalf of the Syndicate, in light of the recent events of a… personal nature that has come to our - and it would appear Nora’s - attention. You may choose to accept or decline at your own discretion, of course, but I would ask that you at least hear our proposal before making a decision.” He didn’t hesitate this time when he slid his palm across the bar’s counter and withdrew it to wrap around his scotch, leaving the card behind. It included his full name and an intricate knot of a symbol with a third eye in the center that represented the order. No phone number, no e-mail, on the black interface of the card.<br/><br/><br/>“Nora, would you like to make any appropriate introductions as to what we do, since you have, many times, worked on our behalf before?” He smiled around the lip of his glass, the dark slate of his eyes glinting with silver, as he watched the other woman speculatively. Much like what she did for a living, the Syndicate took care of unwanted dealings in the supernatural world - and kept them from leaking out and causing trouble in the mundane world. They were of the mindset that the two worlds were separate and needed to remain that way. James Sinclair, who had once been a part of their order, was a volatile wild card in their mind. “If not, we can continue. Would you prefer somewhere more private?”