There was a buzz at the ground floor, and David grinned a little, as he picked up the phone. "Yeah?" The voice on the other end of the line told him the two of them were here, and he nodded. "Send them up."<br/><br/>He picked up two glasses from the wet bar and carried them over to the poker table, pouring a glassful of scotch for each of his soon to be arriving guests. He did so enjoy watching people squirm on the hook. He picked up the remote from the table and turned the music on, an eclectic blend of jazz and rock (heavy on the Afghan Whigs, who were perfect for this kind of evening) and turned as he heard the elevator ding, a sly smile on his lips, as he heard the elevator ding just beyond his front door. It was a touch facetious, perhaps, considering the elevator just let out into a tiny room outside of a front door. He opened the door without a word, taking in the sight of them.<br/><br/>David knew exactly what he wanted, so he didn't mind looking, taking in each of the girls, sizing them up. Poor Ever, who'd been so desperate to win big that she'd gambled with more than she could afford to lose. He'd enjoyed thinking about all the wonderful things he could do with her toned body, and he remembered how much she seemed to blush when he'd asked her if the fiery red hair was natural, and pointed out how he'd be able to check for himself. Then his gaze turned to the new girl, Sarah, his deep blues sweeping over the unfamiliar carefully, as if she herself might be an opponent instead of just collateral, although he could see the nervousness in her eyes, and that wolfish smile of his widened a little more. Ever had told him little more about her than she was pretty and she was British, both of which pleased him.<br/><br/>"Come in, come in, ladies, make yourselves comfortable," he said, that voice smooth but dangerous, the sound of leather and steel almost, before his gaze turned to the poker table. "I've set out some scotch for you, and put some music on. Did you want to get right down to it, or shall we chat for a few minutes first?" The cards were splayed out on the table, ready to be scooped up, shuffled and dealt out. He loved the look of cards fanned out like that - it was as if it was an invitation to bend them to his will, make them obey. And he was good at bending things to his will. He ushered the two of them into his condo and closed the door behind them, locking it again, the sound of that lock like a clap of thunder to their ears, he was sure.