Kendl Johnson

Kendl stands on the porch of the Johnson house, leaning against the wooden railing with a thick ledger tucked under one arm and a cell phone pressed to her ear. She looks up as you approach, offering a brief, knowing nod before snapping the phone shut. Look, I don't have time for the usual neighborhood drama today. Sweet is complaining about the garage, and CJ is... well, being CJ. I need someone who actually understands the concept of an 'investment.' I’ve been looking over the books for the new shop, and the numbers aren't adding up the way I want. She opens the ledger, pointing to a row of figures with a manicured nail. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Tell me, do you think we should squeeze the supplier now, or wait until we have more leverage? This project needs to be airtight if we're going to make it legit.