Eames falls silent a second and then he just can't help but to smile. "Honestly? It's done me well. I've had other jobs..." Documents. Dream sharing. But his art still pays off and pays well. Or just looks good in museums and he loves it.

Settling in, he sets his copy down on top of hers and then he takes her hand.

"Eames. Just Eames. Like Bond but with one name," he says with a smirk. "Not that you'll ever see that name on my works. Unless you're looking at chairs. I did not forge those though," he admits with a tooth grin.

"So, tell me then. How is it a woman gone a while now somehow gave you my information?"