It is gracious of him to offer refreshments yet Sorcha finds it almost awkwardly amusing. It was the trademark happening of every business deal she had ever seen in the movies so when he pulls out a glass clearly meant to showcase some prized alcoholic beverage she cannot help but reveal a small smile, mossy eyes twinkling. She takes it from him almost eagerly, immediately taking a few gulps of the cold liquid and finding it settling. While most people enjoyed a beer here or there to calm themselves there was something so purifying about ice cold water, a fact that most people missed. Sometimes she wondered if she was the only one who enjoyed simple things but she also figured it might be because she was a witch and was so tied to them. The apologies go smoothly, neither wishing to drag it out and she was a practical woman. If she had felt truly ill at ease with Dareios she would not have come today despite the circumstances.

Sorcha prides herself on her ability to notice things (another reason she felt anxiety since she had failed so greatly with Frost), so she notices the frown and his attentive eyes. The words bubble up so fast that she actually makes a small sound before catching herself, averting her eyes a moment to compose herself. Honesty was, as she had mentioned, a prized thing. She had no one to tell her problems to and he seemed quite open relaxed into this rather obnoxiously comfortable couch that their relative stranger status hadn't mattered. No doubt he did not want to get involved anyway with the affairs of the Were's. Tobias and Tetra would keep an eye on Sorcha while she was there and she had even finagled getting a companion to walk home - or at least to the busier part of the city - with each night.

The mention of antiques sees her leaning forward as well, a new light in her eye of interest. While most antiques were boring there were many that were rare and held such historical value that she had often coveted them - or being the one to find them. Don't mind the girl, she just had a bit of an Indiana Jones complex. Her eyes narrow, however, at his mention of legal and a slight frown dips her plush lips. "I won't get into anything illegal," she warns, wondering exactly WHAT illegal stuff he was doing. It went against her nature to not ask him but some things were better off not knowing. "As for your antiques, I would like to see some another time, if you have any. Just to look at, mind you, I'm not in the market to waste money on them. It fascinates me - in another life, perhaps I will be the archaeologist digging up past treasures and scouring the world." Now she grins, amused by the idea, and sets down her glass on a side table, pausing for a heartbeat as she wonders if the condensation would mess with the finishing. Well, with his wealth he probably had a house cleaner, she thinks and goes back to their discussion.

Yes, she had a learned quite a bit. She had learned that her potions were selling like hot-cakes and that certain people - Were's - were not thrilled about her chosen friends. She tries to shove the almost instinctive nervousness down at the mention, focusing instead on the business proposal that he was offering. "Indeed," she answers promptly, her mind spinning. Large scale, he says, and her eyes widen. It would mean scraping most of her time spent hawking her wares on the side walks but if what he was saying was true she would make more income doing this in a month than she did in three on her normal routine. Sorcha leans back into the couch now, unaware as she thinks. Her eyes snap from their focused look to track him as he moves to his desk, admiring his fit figure in a surprisingly feminine manner - because what woman wouldn't notice a rich man as attractive as him? With his fangs in no one would ever guess he was a vampire, she thinks distractedly, remembering calling him a snake. It was a wonder he even wanted to do business with her.

She nods now, glancing at the thick manila envelope that he holds in surprise before back at him. "They will sell," she says with confidence, smiling in a more assured manner once more, much like when they had first met. This moment, this opportunity, it meant that her future wasn't so uncertain anymore. That things were coming together. "I have plenty of potions and if any of your clients ask for something special I can try to make something for it, but I won't be sending you poisons or anything with dark magic," she said, leaning away from the back of the couch now with a stern expression. "I like healing people, not hurting them, and there are plenty of others who give witchcraft a bad name. Most of my stuff isn't even magical, just better prepared than other things, but I do both. If you are fine with that then I accept your terms."

A sense of purpose fills her once more, erasing a final hint of the negligent nervousness. There was no doubt he would be connected - he had many centuries to connect himself to various species. "Dareios, forgive me if it is rude, but just how old are you?" It was a complete shift in conversation but when she had a question, well, it was hard to refrain from asking.