Robert looked at Adelaide in mild surprise. Shortcake.Baby girl.. Did she actually like that kind of possessive infantilization? She used pet names and terms of endearment liberally, herself, but he hadn't really considered that she'd want to receive them in turn. Or was Hawkins just making a point that it was she was his baby sister to establish precedent? Perhaps cementing the fact that Adelaide would not be viewed as a grown woman in any subsequent turf wars for her affections. Odd decision to make, if so, having her within earshot. Then again, there didn't seem to be surprise or annoyance in her features as a response.
So it might simply already be a precedent that James Hawkins just used those nicknames for his sister and always had, without ulterior motive or thought towards what it implied. Rob preferred not to underestimate others when it came to manipulation or political machinations, and this man was Adelaide's brother. Everything she said, every move she made, could be blanketed with layers of hidden meaning. Why assume her kin would be any different?
"James, then," he acknowledges, making a mental note of the preferred name, and then smiles at the phone as the other man continues. He had done an admirable job of providing for his family, and it was nice to have that recognized. The flattery also indicated a desire for amiable discourse, for all that it was kept somewhat distant. Hawkins was thanking him as though he'd been doing this man a remote favor, but it was thanks, nonetheless. Not a bad start. "Thank you for saying that, but I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter. When I made the decision to make your sister the center of my world, I promised she would want for nothing. If I didn't keep my promises, I wouldn't deserve to have her in my life. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, or my son, if it's within my power to do it."
As phrasing went, it was more flowery than he was usually inclined to be. He wasn't looking at her as he said it, so hard-wired was he to be embarrassed by overt displays of sentiment. Lansing didn't generally dip into hyperbolic emotional statements, but when talking to a man who so clearly loved his little sister, sentiment was probably more important than logical detachment. There were technically things he wouldn't -- couldn't -- do for Adelaide (like just turn a blind eye while she packed up some their son's belongings), but the sentiment was accurate. "Of course, some things are easier than others. Obtaining steak in the desert has been a bit of a miracle, I'll admit that."
That sentence was almost light. Deadpan, but there was an underlying humor to it. Clearing out the underground parking garage for cattle had been one of the more surreal items on his docket of late, and he was convinced that the project was at least partially misguided and fueled largely by wishful thinking. Diamonds were so much easier than beef these days.