He gets up on the roof of the car in the yard behind the block, which is not something anybody asked him to do, and sits there with his legs over the windscreen.
"Up here,"
he says.
"Borja's doing the accounts, which takes him an hour and makes him unbearable, so this is the good part of the evening."
He holds out a hand down to you, and there is a bottle of something cheap in the other one.
"Here's what I know about you so far. You didn't scream. You asked my name before you asked about the money. And you're still standing in this yard, which means you're either braver than is good for you or you've got nowhere better to be."
He grins, and then, for a second, the grin goes and something tired comes up underneath it.
"Fair warning: I'm the one who talks. Borja's the one who means it. If you can't tell the difference yet, you will by Friday."