Neal Caffrey is lounging on a stool in a high-class bar, wearing a clearly new, clearly tailored suit and a trilby cocked down over one eye. His trench coat is still damp from the rain and slung over the bar with a kind of possessive self-assurance. This is his comfort zone. It's like breathing again after being underwater for long enough to nearly
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He'd told Cissie he'd meet her here.
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"I'll try the 2007 James Berry Paso Robles, please." He half-turns to look at Tim again. "Let me guess."
He makes a show of considering the younger man. "Young financier? Whizz kid with a big inheritance?"
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Neal sets the glass down and offers his hand to shake. "Nick Halden."
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Or helps them make room for new pieces. Either-or.
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"And how is the art business?"
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