He smiled when she asked his name. "My full name is... well... I don't really like it, but you can call me Sam," he said with a slight nod. "And yes, you've apparently met my mentally-ill friend. Like I said, he thinks he's God, or sometimes he'll suddenly start 'talking to God', or any other list of crazy things. If you met him and got away untouched, then you should consider yourself lucky."<br/><br/>He rose to his feet, and walked very slowly over to stand before her. He looked down upon her, which only accentuated how tall he really was. His eyes roamed her face... her neck, then down to her ample breasts. "I know what kind of... work... you do," he said, softly, his voice nearly mesmerizing and his charming smile so warm and welcoming. "If you need contacts... or possible names of potential targets who might offer you a big score... I am sure we can come to -some- kind of agreement," he said as he reached a hand inside one of his pants pockets.<br/><br/>"As for 'changing'... don't worry about that crazy man," he said, shaking his head slightly. "If you're worried about the bullet... I can help with that, too... for a price," he said, bringing forth his hand which held a business card.<br/><br/>"My number, to call or text whenever you like. Call or text anytime." He offered her the card, then slowly made his way to the door. He paused there for a moment, turning back to look at her, looking her up and down one final time with appreciative eyes. "Anyone ever tell you you're gorgeous?" he asked suddenly. "Yeah... I bet they have."<br/><br/>Then he turned toward the door and opened it to leave...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>