There are five cameras in the room. Cal is currently visible on two of them, one focused on the bar, one surveying a section of the room as a whole. The second of these, having a good view of the surrounding area, is perfectly placed to capture the approach of Obadiah Stane.
He orders something first, joking with the bartender about the quality of the whiskey; then he turns to Cal. "Fancy meeting you here," he says in a voice like molasses-sweet, sticky, slow-moving, and deadly in large quantities.
This time, Cal does recognize the actual voice, and is too startled to think to take the chance to move casually away while Obadiah is ordering.
Of all the people he would never have expected to encounter here.
He realizes too late that he's lost his chance to get out of there with grace, without causing offense. Not that he cares about offending Obadiah, but there is their host to think about. The guest list is very finely tuned. Everyone here is here for a reason, and Reed Chandler's political alliances are becoming more and more important as the time for his candidacy draws nearer. Cal has no choice but to step carefully.
His greeting smile is reserved, though, without the same kind of guileless enthusiasm he'd employed before.
"Mr Stane," he says. "I wouldn't have expected to see you here."
"Terry and I are good friends," he says, all smiles. This is a lie, and it's a ridiculous lie, and what it actually means is that he is enjoying the effort Senator Scott is putting into courting the Stark Industries campaign dollar.
Most of which is obvious, if only because Cal knows he's never seen Obadiah at one of Senator Scott's parties before. Of course, it's the kind of lie everyone tells at these types of affairs, so he doesn't dwell on it much.
"He and my father go way back." He resists the urge to sip at his drink; too obvious a nervous gesture. "They're very close."
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He orders something first, joking with the bartender about the quality of the whiskey; then he turns to Cal. "Fancy meeting you here," he says in a voice like molasses-sweet, sticky, slow-moving, and deadly in large quantities.
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Of all the people he would never have expected to encounter here.
He realizes too late that he's lost his chance to get out of there with grace, without causing offense. Not that he cares about offending Obadiah, but there is their host to think about. The guest list is very finely tuned. Everyone here is here for a reason, and Reed Chandler's political alliances are becoming more and more important as the time for his candidacy draws nearer. Cal has no choice but to step carefully.
His greeting smile is reserved, though, without the same kind of guileless enthusiasm he'd employed before.
"Mr Stane," he says. "I wouldn't have expected to see you here."
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"He and my father go way back." He resists the urge to sip at his drink; too obvious a nervous gesture. "They're very close."
Politically, at least.
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