These types of gatherings were far from Phlox’s favorite to attend. Everything about them was suffocating. The smell of luxury perfumes and top-shelf scotch filled their air, making his head ache. He always felt so out of place, always having preferred quiet times and simple things to these outlandish soirees. Yet Avarice insisted, and he knew better. When Avarice requested your presence, it was always in your best interest to attend.
“Phlox my good boy,” Avarice said, taking Phlox’s hand in his, his grip firm, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”
“You made it seems as if I didn’t have a choice.”
Avarice laughed rough and deep, the type of laugh that came from the partaking of one too many cigars over the years “You are a smart man. Come, let’s gets a drink. I’ve acquired a single-malt from Forgotten Honeycomb that is to die for.”
“Isn’t it in poor taste to drink while discussing business?”
“On the contrary,” Avarice smiled wickedly, “a good deal needs a good drink. Remember this: always mix business with pleasure.”
“Isn’t that… the opposite of how the phrase goes?”
He patted the back of Phlox’s back, laughing once again. “You’ll learn in due time, my friend. Now come, we mustn’t keep them waiting too long.”
Berrybloomsims 