<em>Majority stockholder...</em>In his head, Johnny jotted the note down, and filed it away in a very special drawer, to save for later in case he found a use for it. That little nugget she had dropped cast any number of details into illumination. One in particular stood out clearly: this<em>Mattheus Robinson</em>. All Johnny had was a name, but already he could tell several things. Majority stockholder, therefore Syn Tierny answered to him. Now wasn't<em>that</em>delicious, this cold proud woman having to report to a man. He imagined that this little detail ground her gears like nothing else. Whatever the case was, she wasn't content to leave matters that way; after all, why else would he be here in the first place? She wanted to use him as a tool, to gain the advantage over this rival of hers. Pieces clicked into place in Johnny's head one after the other, creating a clearer and clearer picture. But the picture was incomplete for now...<br/><br/>"Sounds delicate," Johnny pursed his lips in a show of consideration. He looked down at her hand, laid flat on his chest. Her nails were painted a dark shade of maroon, like a deep-set bloodstain. Though a light touch, he felt as though there was weight behind it if she decided to push. And sometimes the best response to a push was not to push back but to yield and redirect the force. He turned sideways to regard her. "A high-profile job like this is going to take several things," he slipped past her and returned to his chair. Leaning back, he raised his legs and crossed one ankle over the other, resting them on the edge of her desk. Let her know that he wasn't to be cowed by her show. "Namely, time and research. I'm going to need to get to know your Matty Robinson. His habits, his customs, his personality. Who he knows, where he goes. And his home security system." He examined his own nails. "And I'm going to need to know about this "item" of yours." He looked up at her. "Are we going to play twenty questions? Bigger than a bread-box? Something that can be found in most suburban kitchens? What do you feel like telling me?