It's been three weeks and four days since the attack on his club, and Toby still hasn't forgiven Dorian for it. All messages related to anything but business go unanswered and all attempts at bribery (they're not gifts when he's this upset, period) are ignored or sent back. He certainly hasn't gone to their shared penthouse, either, and has been grumpily holed up in various suites in his hotel instead.
Dorian's been insufferable in demeanor when they do see each other, too. Every worry Toby brings up or consequence he points out is met with some version of 'it's fine' or 'it'll blow over,' and each time digs a little deeper under his skin. If he'd wanted to work with someone who was dismissive and uncaring about his feelings or opinions on a matter, he'd have lived with his mother in the last few years before her death. He'll pass on getting it from a business partner and lover, thanks.
Today's annoyance is with yet another former regular telling a bartender he's not comfortable coming to a club that was openly attacked by bounty hunters, who were only there because one of the suppliers is a former Sith. This is on top of having to pay a heavy fee to restart a contract with a supplier who had previously been cutting Toby a good deal because of how much product his clubs and bars moved. How Dorian can't see the extent of the damage done is truly mind boggling.
He's not expecting to Dorian to come to the bar today. It's slow enough that Toby's settled on one of the couches in the VIP section, a mostly full glass on a table by his feet as he looks over some accounts and various books. Putting his business knowledge to work is easy enough, but it's been a pain in his ass. Kriffing bounty hunters and their need to make such a mess. Ugh.
When the other man approaches, Toby looks up briefly before returning to his work. "You need something?" he asks, flipping through pages in an inventory list. "I need a few minutes, but I can slot you in after I finish looking these over."
SW Universe: A Forced Return to Normal
Dorian's been insufferable in demeanor when they do see each other, too. Every worry Toby brings up or consequence he points out is met with some version of 'it's fine' or 'it'll blow over,' and each time digs a little deeper under his skin. If he'd wanted to work with someone who was dismissive and uncaring about his feelings or opinions on a matter, he'd have lived with his mother in the last few years before her death. He'll pass on getting it from a business partner and lover, thanks.
Today's annoyance is with yet another former regular telling a bartender he's not comfortable coming to a club that was openly attacked by bounty hunters, who were only there because one of the suppliers is a former Sith. This is on top of having to pay a heavy fee to restart a contract with a supplier who had previously been cutting Toby a good deal because of how much product his clubs and bars moved. How Dorian can't see the extent of the damage done is truly mind boggling.
He's not expecting to Dorian to come to the bar today. It's slow enough that Toby's settled on one of the couches in the VIP section, a mostly full glass on a table by his feet as he looks over some accounts and various books. Putting his business knowledge to work is easy enough, but it's been a pain in his ass. Kriffing bounty hunters and their need to make such a mess. Ugh.
When the other man approaches, Toby looks up briefly before returning to his work. "You need something?" he asks, flipping through pages in an inventory list. "I need a few minutes, but I can slot you in after I finish looking these over."