Cesare lets out a quick laugh before sticking his tongue into his cheek in thought and looking down at the business card. He reaches forward and takes it, before putting it into his suit pocket.

"I'll have Cameron Brig. Dalwhinnie at a push." If Jean-Claude is joking about special requests, Cesare doesn't care. He wants good scotch. If he didn't have an opportunity to have it before, he's making one. Give Cesare an inch and he'll take a mile.

"I hope they're good dancers." Because Cesare is obviously visiting to see the ladies' dancing ability. Of course.