“Pretty close,” Ira nodded, absently running a jagged thumbnail back and forth across the pad of his index finger. “But not in Nearside, I only came here three or so months ago. Originally hail from Pittsburgh, but it’s not too far away. What about you?”
Another thought suddenly struck him, one he’d been meaning to ask since he’d had lunch at Staas’ restaurant. They had already swapping questions, so Ira wasn’t as cautious about voicing it as he would have arbitrarily. “Oh, also. I’ve been curious about this, how’d you come to own El Torro? I know that you’re Dutch, so… He smiled sheepishly, at a loss. “Mexican relatives?”