Faolan takes the receipt from the other man, glancing over the number and the email address for a moment, before reaching to tuck it in his coat pocket. Maybe some people would start to program these things into their phones right away so they don't lose them, but Faolan's old-fashioned. (And his mobile isn't really all that good, considering.) And then, rather than leaving it at there, he reaches further into the breast pocket of his coat and pulls out a card, before sliding it across the table to the other man. Written on it is his name, first and last, in simple black lettering on the white background, a phone number (his mobile, considering it's easier to work that way), and an email address. No address or professional designation, but it's obviously a professional business card.

"Here," he says. "So you know who's contacting you, when I do. Or in case you should feel inspired. To enact any more bribes." He smirks, slightly.