Ricardo grinned. He usually considered the policĂa nothing more than a necessary evil cutting into his profits, but occasionally he could admit there were some he didn't mind tolerating so much.
"Tanto como quisiera creer esto sea una visita social, estoy seguro que usted quisiera hacer negocio." He reached into his coat, and pulled a thick wrinkled envelope. "Nuestros permisos. Todos en orden, como siempre."
Indeed, there were permits in there, along with...other things. Like a thick, dark wad of cash, and, as part of their standing tradition, a single pass to the show. For any time, and girl, Chad might choose.
On the stairs Jazz tensed. Here it was. She started running through a list of excuses that would keep her busy and unavailable for a "performance."