"Almost done."
Lynch said as he pulled out a wad of checks from his pocket, "Here's over seventy million, deduct my thirty million, and we'll split the rest..."
As he spoke, he pulled out more than a dozen sheets and handed them over, "Including my thirty million, you almost have fifty million in checks in your hands."
"Your business is doing well. You're making more than, well, more than everyone here makes in a year!"
Beret could hardly believe his ears. After staring at Lynch for three or four seconds, he couldn't help but burst into laughter again,
laughing, slapping the armrest, his body swaying slightly back and forth, "I knew you were fucking interesting. You've got a good head on your shoulders. How about you join me?"
"You just said that this deal of mine made more money than anyone here in a year."
"Your brains, my gun..." He might have been afraid Lynch would forget he had a gun, so he couldn't help but pull it from his waist and shake it a few times.
