The most important events in one's life are unlikely to present themselves with any kind of obviousness.

Possibly the most important event in mine certainly didn't.

My name is John Marcone, unless you associate yourself with the press, in which case you probably use the media nickname "Gentleman Johnny," to my annoyance. Simply put, I run Chicago. I am in complete control of the illicit side of civilization, and have a fair bit of influence over the "aboveboard" business as well. If anything happens in this city, I'm responsible for it, and if I'm not I soon rectify the matter.

For instance, my bodyguard, Tommy Tomm, had recently been the victim of a supernatural attack, which was a major inconvenience for me. In addition to being one of my most trusted and capable soldiers, Tommy was a good man, and I was genuinely sorry to have lost him. To complicate matters, he was not the only target of the attack – a call girl named Jennifer Stanton, an employee of the Velvet Room, had also been killed. Complicating matters further, the local police force had been called in to investigate the scene, and they had enlisted the help of Chicago's only advertising wizard, one Harry Dresden.

I had heard stories concerning Mr. Dresden, and from what I could gather he would be a valuable asset to Chicago's PD. However, Tommy's death was a personal matter, and it wouldn't do to have the police underfoot while I made my own enquiries as to who would be spending the rest of their short, painful life tied to a pole in a warehouse. Therefore, I was on my way to engage Mr. Dresden in business talks and offer him the opportunity to make a relatively large sum of money for relatively little work.

"There he is, coming out of the building – damn, he's running. You think he saw us?"

My man's voice crackled as it came through my radio – a side effect of magical energies is an interference with electronics, I'd been informed, and there were certainly magical energies left over next to the scene of Tommy's murder. Mr. Dresden had been inside the hotel where the act had happened, presumably consulting with Lt. Karrin Murphy, head of the Special Investigations unit. The SI unit was the department which, officially, handled "abnormal" police cases. In actuality, it was the professional equivalent of banishment – being assigned nothing but "crap" cases was simply the salt in the wound, as it were. Lt. Murphy was high on my list of underappreciated individuals who could almost certainly prove themselves useful when the time was right.

"No, I don't think he has. Do try to catch him, though – I'd rather have this conversation on familiar ground."

I signaled my driver, Mr. Hendricks, and he pulled out from where we had been sitting at the hotel's curb to begin cruising alongside Mr. Dresden as he loped down the sidewalk towards his office. The two men I'd stationed outside the hotel doors were running after him, doing their best to look unobtrusive though they were pushing past quite a few people.

"Pull up ahead of him, if you please."

Mr. Hendricks skillfully pulled the car into an empty parking space approximately half a block ahead of Mr. Dresden and immediately stepped out into his path. Since losing Tommy, Mr. Hendricks had become my personal bodyguard, driver, and second-in-command. At 6' 3" and over 300 pounds of pure muscle, he certainly looked the part of my might and protection, but he'd proven time and again that beneath his beady blue eyes he was intelligent and fiercely loyal.

Mr. Dresden pulled up short as he noticed Mr. Hendricks blocking his path, and I saw recognition dawn on his features as he glanced behind him to see my two men catching up. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Get in the car," Mr. Hendricks replied. He may be intelligent, but I will be the first to admit that diplomacy is not one of my second's strong suits.

"I like to walk. It's good for my heart." The reply came naturally, and I quickly surmised that Mr. Dresden was quick-witted and probably a smart-ass.

"You don't get in the car, it isn't going to be good for your legs," growled Hendricks. I winced inwardly as I realized that Dresden was going to assume I'd come to threaten him rather than talk business.

"Mister Hendricks, please. Be more polite. Mister Dresden, would you join me for a moment? I'd hoped to give you a life back to your office, but your abrupt exit made it somewhat problematic. Perhaps you will allow me to convey you the rest of the way."

I could see the interest in his eyes as Dresden leaned down to peer into the car. "And you would be?"

I flashed him a winning smile and said, "My name is John Marcone. I would like to discuss business with you."

I could tell that Dresden was still uncomfortable, but he slid into the back seat of my car after sparing a quick glance at Mr. Hendricks. The radio immediately sputtered and died, and I made a mental note not to bring any delicate electronics to any future magical meetings.

"Mister Dresden, I understand that you work for the police department, from time to time."

"They throw the occasional tidbit my way." I saw his eyes glance back over to Mr. Hendricks. "Hey, Hendricks. You should really wear your seatbelt. Statistics say you're fifty or sixty percent safer."

I noticed Mr. Hendricks glare back at Mr. Dresden, and watched as Mr. Dresden simply beamed smugly back at Mr. Hendricks. I added "insolent" and "sarcastic under pressure" to my mental list of Dresden's attributes.

"Mister Dresden, how much would it cost to retain your services?"

"My standard fee is fifty dollars an hour plus travel expenses, but it can vary depending on what you need done." I could tell that he hadn't expected the question, and had immediately started wondering what I was up to. "Inquisitive" and "quick thinker" went on the list.

"How much would it set me back to have you not investigate something?"

I saw the wheels in his head start turning faster. "You want to pay me not to do something?"

"Let's say I pay you your standard fee. That comes out to fourteen hundred a day, right?"

"Twelve hundred, actually."

I flashed Mr. Dresden another smile. "An honest man is a rare treasure. Twelve hundred a day. Let's say I pay you for two weeks of work, Mister Dresden, and you take some time off. Go catch a few movies, get some extra sleep, that sort of thing."

Dresden eyed me warily. "And for more than a thousand dollars a day, you want me to…?"

"Do nothing, Mister Dresden. Just relax, and put your feet up. And stay out of Detective Murphy's way."

Dresden immediately put the pieces together – I could tell just by looking at him. In the same instant, I could tell he wouldn't take up my offer – he gazed out the car's window, pretending to think about it, but I knew that this man's loyalty was only matched by his stubbornness, and nothing I could offer him would change his mind.

"I've got the money with me," I said, hoping to be wrong for once. "Cash on the spot. I'll trust you to fulfill your end of the deal, Mister Dresden. You come highly recommended for your honesty."

"Mmmm. I don't know John. I'm kind of busy to be accepting any more accounts right now." I didn't let him see how his use of my first name rankled me, but I felt something else besides that. I was annoyed that this wasn't going to be as easy as I'd hoped, but at the same time I felt a strange attraction to a man that could stand up to the lord of Chicago, knowing full well who he is, and tell him "no."

"Mister Dresden, I am quite eager to establish a positive working relationship, here. If it's the money, I can offer you more. Let's say double your usual fee." I steepled my hands in front of me, trying one last time to sway Dresden to my side. "How does that sound?"

"It isn't the money, John. I just don't think it's going to work out." With that, Mr. Dresden casually looked at me full-on and we locked eyes.

When a wizard locks eyes with another mortal, they can see deep inside that person in what is referred to as a "soul-gaze." What they see varies depending on the wizard, but it is, in short, the very essence of the person they gaze upon. The interesting thing about these soul-gazes, however, is that they are reciprocal. While a wizard is allowed to see the innermost being of the mortal they have locked into a gaze with, the mortal is allowed to look back at the wizard, and they are allowed a glimpse into the magical person they are with.

When I gazed upon Harry Dresden, I saw power, and so many possible outlets for that power that I was nearly overwhelmed. I sensed that this man had experienced so much more than would be expected from someone of his age, and could somehow tell that there was exponentially more to come. I saw passion within him – passion for life, for goodness, and for the ideals that he had chosen to uphold. I saw the parts of him that would be weak to temptation, and I saw the parts that fought tirelessly to keep them under control. I saw that this man would not work with me, not only because he was loyal to his friends, but because he saw me as evil. I saw the ideals of an inexperienced man, fresh into the world, which had been tempered by the harsh realities of life. I saw Harry Dresden.

When the moment faded, and I once again looked simply into Mr. Dresden's eyes, I immediately checked my emotions and made my face as bland as it had been before the soul-gaze. I watched as Dresden's eyes grew wide, and guessed that he was reacting to whatever he had seen inside of me. I am a formidable man – I did not envy him at that moment.

"All right then. I won't try to force my offer on you, Mister Dresden. But let me offer you some advice?"

The car was slowing down as it approached Dresden's building by this point. "If you don't charge for it." I could see that he was clearly rattled, and I reaffirmed my notation of "sarcasm under pressure."

"I think you'll be happier if you come down with the flu for a few days. This business that Detective Murphy has asked you to look into doesn't need to be dragged out into the light. You won't like what you see. It's on my side of the fence. Just let me deal with it, and it won't ever trouble you."

"Are you threatening me?" I didn't think he actually believed I was – his argument might have been strengthened had his voice not been shaking so badly.

"No. I have too much respect for you to resort to something like that. Anyone who has the fortitude to stand up to me the way you have has earned at least that much. But think about what I've said, would you? I would as soon not make an enemy of you over this matter."

Dresden clenched his jaw, and I could tell he was still rattled and about to make some kind of overblown, dramatic statement. "Mister Dresden, I do think we could work well together. If you ever feel the need to contact me, please don't hesitate." I saw him freeze for a second as he considered what I'd said.

"I don't think I like your kind of people, John," he retorted as he stepped out of the car. "That's no offense to you, but I think Cujo there in the front seat would probably have a field day tearing me apart if I spent any more time in your car. So, for the time being, why don't we just try staying out of each other's way?" Dresden's eyes were still scared, but also calculating. And he was trying to be friendly, at least.

"Have it your way, Mister Dresden. If you change your mind, here's my card." I pulled out one of my business cards and wrote my personal line's number on the back of it. "It's been a pleasure."

Our fingers brushed for the briefest moment as I handed it to him, and I couldn't suppress a minute gasp as I felt the energy coursing through him. Dresden noticed, and smirked. "Sorry, I've got a shocking personality."

I drew back into the car and said "Mr. Hendricks, take me back to the office, if you please. I do not think I could handle any more bad jokes at the moment." I graced Dresden with a quick smile before we rolled away from the curb. I glanced back and saw him standing at the curb looking after my car with a confused look on his face.

"Well, I think that went rather well," I commented to Mr. Hendricks. Mr. Hendricks simply grunted in reply.

I thought back on what I'd learned during our meeting, and I remained confident that my initial assessment of Dresden's qualities was accurate. I firmly believed that he was a powerful man, and potentially a powerful asset or even ally. As I remembered him jogging down the street away from the hotel, I allowed myself one minor addition to the list.

"Nice ass."