Great. A country's worth of people in New York and her "godson" finds the one with a working conscience. Mentally, and thus well out of the scope of notice and blame, Sato sighed. It was as if she minded that Alex's choice companion had morals, of course not, and it wasn't as if she'd actually offered to pay for Dev's friendship (though even Sato would find that hard to tell amongst the wretched babbling), but a little greed would've been--well, familiar. Convenient if nothing else. She was going to lodge a complaint with the local Sins, definitely.
For now, however...
"Oh. Um. Thank you?" Sato's expression was edged with hope. "I really didn't meant to--well, er. Yes, thank you." She unlaced her fingers, palms smoothening down her coat. "So. Well. I'm Hannah and--oh." Suddenly inspired apparently, she took out a slim, stiff square of paper. The business card was warm toned and small, curved script announcing Sato's name, business number (Murasaki), and professional email. The back had a raised abstract of stylized kanji--Baku--something more felt than seen. "That's where I work. Art. I mean, it's a gallery. With art. And, well, that is...um, I'm sorry but what exactly would you like to hear?"