Nicolas sat up straight, his hands folded in his lap, as though he was afraid what to do with them otherwise. He didn't want to fidget not in a situation like this, depite how uncomfortable he was in the little place. He wanted to seem professional enough, because despite all that he'd grown up with and done, this was new. His inheritance money had been something he was never sure what to do with beside let it stay in a vault.
"Hm," he mumbled under his breath, trying to think what he remembered from the few times he'd visited art galleries for some reason of another. "Well, I know it isn't yours but--it sounds like it's something important, for local artists. So is it an advertising problem or do you not know?"