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"With my business acumen," Moz said, "and Neal's ability to circumvent certain, ahem, legality issues, we should have had a thriving import business by now."
Neal shot Peter a look. Peter replied with an arched eyebrow.
Offering a grin and a shrug in return, Neal faced the small mirror balanced on the metal counter. With a practiced gesture, Neal adjusted his bow tie so it sat just right. The silk gleamed when he pinched and tucked the tie. And to think Peter originally offered a clip-on tie. Neal suppressed a shudder.
"I am well versed in the machinations of the financial world. Our combined expertise would have us luxuriate in leisure," Moz continued. He exhaled a "woe is me" kind of sigh. "Neal and I would have been kings."
"Kings? Really?" Peter drawled. "You want a boring business empire instead of all of this, Your Highness?"
'This,' as Peter referred to, was a cramped surveillance van, the remains of takeout from the bodega three blocks away, and a dented metal roller suitcase Jones hauled in crammed with their tuxedos and 'Big Brother paraphernalia' as Moz disparaged them. Neal failed to comment. He silently mourned the mistreatment of bespoke attire.
Moz sniffed, his nose wrinkling, as he reached over to adjust Neal's bow tie, making sure the button camera stayed well hidden. Neal swallowed back a sigh as he then tipped his head back when Peter took his turn to readjust it.
It wasn't clear if Moz's scoff was because Peter's tweaks weren't up to snuff or for Peter's gesture to the van with the grand sweep of a showman's hand.
"At the very least, we should have warranted a van that doesn't smell like decades of oppression, cheap coffee, and toasted sesame seed bagels."
"Hey," Jones protested with a grin. "I like sesame seed bagels."
Neal laughed. Then sighed when Moz squirmed closer to fix his tie again.