Summary:Talia meets Oliver Queen to discuss a new business venture. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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The meeting was set in a high rise office space in Staten Island; the building itself had been vacant for sometime, recently bought and re-zoned. Thirteen floors, each serving a purpose. The first floor of the large building a walk-in clinic and space for doctors to treat patients that come in, the second floor therapies. Third and forth, billing. The rest.. research, development.. etc. Even the basement that houses the boilers and other HVAC items will have their purpose, proto-molecule machines, etc.. that help with medical advancements and researches will be placed.
All of this, a work in progress.
But the Leviathan never sleeps. She works in her office at the top floor, preparing for a meeting with Queen Industries. The company already has a dog in the fight when it comes to Big-Pharma, and a collaboration seems to be what's needed for Talia to get her business off the ground and into continued growth.
"Oliver Queen is here, Ms. al-Ghul." The voice plays over the comms. Kimberly, her devoted assistant, waits for permission to allow the man inside.
It's been a fairly standard-issue sort of day for Oliver Queen. A late start, a light breakfast, a thorough workout, and then an expensive outfit. After that, a quick drive to Staten Island in a car worth more than most people make in a lifetime. Per usual, he took a few high speed turns en route and ditched his entourage, so there are no personal assistants, bodyguards, or other hangers on with him when he arrives.
He wears a tailored Italian suit with no tie and his top button undone, a simultaneous nod and nose-thumbing when it comes to expected levels of fashion. It doesn't take long for the perpetually stubbled, friendly, and confident CEO to find his way to the meeting. And he's on time for once, nearly beating the announcement of his arrival as he lets himself in.
"Quite the place you have here," he greets, holding out a hand. "I hope you don't mind, your staff helped me find you. Good people."
Thankfully, Kimberly already stated Oliver's arrival, so her head doesn't have to go on the chopping block. There was nothing amiss about what Talia was doing, going through paperwork thoroughly, signing documents, rolls upon rolls of plans upon a table that set far into the room. Her office was big, still housing the tape that the glass came in, and working in the office that was hardly decorated felt almost like home.
Well, she was in it for a week, consistently, so it better had.
"Mr. Queen.." Talia says as she stands from her desk, reaching out a hand to shake his. "Oh, trust me. If I minded, everyone would know. Tis a pleasure to meet you." Her accent was something near european, but with a mix of Punjab.. "Please. Have a seat. I do hope your travels were safe and well?"
Rather than shake, Oliver gives Talia's hand a squeeze and a brief lift. It's a gesture that's precise without seeming practiced and familiar without being overbearing. Coupled with a smile and nod, he's neatly taken the role of gracious guest. "It's Oliver, please. The pleasure's mine. Traffic was murder, but when is it not?"
The young man shrugs at his own rhetorical statement and settles himself into a chair. "And I hope the day is treating you well, of course. So. I normally leave meetings like this to my CFO or one of his minions, but when I saw who was on the schedule, I decided to make a personal appearance. What can I do for you, Talia? May I call you Talia?"
Talia was taken aback by the handshake. For a moment, that brief bit of shock was shown upon her face by way of a lowered brow which soon normalizes. Her thoughts on that remained hidden, and a polite smile was put into place. "Yes.." Is all she says in agreement with traffic. "You may. And the day so far is good." She gestures to the chair in front of her, then takes a seat herself. "I do appreciate you taking the time to meet with me, CEO to CEO. T's respectable. I, personally, am looking to collaborate with a local, yet global business in a new endeavor that'll hopefully be approved with the FDA in a matter of weeks due to it's importance."
Once Oliver takes a seat, she would take the file from her desk, then hand it over. It's a new drug, one that improves pancreatic and kidney functions when it comes to patients with diabetics. And more.
She allows him to read, at least before she hands over the chemical compound and goes into more detail.
Despite his reputation for being a party boy who's been kicked out of more schools than most have ever attended, Oliver is a shrewd CEO who's surprisingly well-educated. Some of the technicalities are beyond his understanding, but he's able to wrap his mind around the broad strokes after a quick skimming of the literature.
"This all looks good on paper," he admits, setting the packet down for the moment. "We have our own medical R&D facilities, but I doubt they're as comprehensive as your own. Looking to partner up with someone for manufacturing? Distribution? Tell me more."
She waits for a moment, then nods. "Yes. Manufacturing, distribution, and advertisement once approval is granted. We'll be in the bylines, of course, but QI will be at the helm and hopefully the face. To put it bluntly, I would like to ride the coat tails of Queen Industries until Leviathan is made known in the states. If you've done your research, we have offices mainly in Asia, Europe, and Canada. To take on the US is a monster that we've yet to battle."
She leans back, then reaches into her desk for a silver case, which was flipped open and cigarette taken out. She lights and inhales, then exhales as if she were exuding stress. At least she was honest in her intentions.
Queen raises his eyebrows and makes a thoughtful, considering expression. "Makes sense," he admits, after a few seconds of pondering. "We already have the groundwork laid here. Working with us will put you on the map, as it were. And I get to make money off of facilities and staff that are already paid for."
Seems like a fair plan for all involved, but the youthful businessman always keeps his eyes open for financial pitfalls. "Hmm. I like the idea well enough and I appreciate you thinking of Queen Industries. Once your approval comes through, we can sit down with some of our people and hammer out the details, make sure everything is mutually beneficial."
"I'm glad." Talia says, immediately putting out the cigarette on the provided ashtray. To not offend his senses, she rises to open up the window, allowing a few gusts of air to blow in from such a high space. Thankfully, nothing blows away upon her desk, the files were -that- heavy. "I'll send everything to your offices as soon as possible. I do hope that we can work with each other on this, step by step." She smiles.
"Your team, my team. You and I." Was she flirting? Who knows, her tone was drier than the Sahara. "Dinner, perhaps. Where we can discuss our expectations for this venture."
"I'm all about setting a reasonable level of expectation," Oliver replies, smiling crookedly. "Dinner first, you and I. Then we can have our dreary business meeting."
He's not flirting. Not quite. Then again, he's never particularly obvious about it. "I'm glad I decided to come in person. Feel free to call my office, I'll do my best to make myself available."
Talia grins, now her tone spelling out her intentions. So she was flirting, she may have been old, but she certainly wasn't dead.
"Oh darling, if we're to do dinner first, I'll give you my personal cellular number." She takes out a card, then playfully whips it into his direction with a flick of the wrist. That flick tells, that if it's not caught, it would cut the skin of where it passes by.
Was it just a test?
"Pick the place. I am new to the city. Call me when you've made arrangements."
Reflex and instinct. Ollie snatches the card out of the air between two fingers and his thumb. "That's a nice party trick. I'm more used to handing these out than getting them," he admits, cocking an amused eyebrow and turning it to glance at both sides. "I'll call you soon."
Rather than the voracious attention he lavishes on bits of celebrity arm candy, his interest is… cautious. Exploratory. Even genuine.
Curious herself.
Only one thought runs through Talia's mind.
Fucking billionaires.
"Good." There was no goodbye, only a gesture at the door as a warm smile crosses her face. No see you soon, no I'll be looking forward to it, just her getting right back to work. It may seem cold, but when he leaves, she'd stare at the door and think…