Confidentiality and Business Ethics (Invite)

[Kaelyn]

Doc: Doc noted the wink between Mortll and Amalea. Interesting. How did he miss that .. all this time? He pulled at Chub's ringlets. Pulling them straight, to watch them spring back into a coil of curls. "The meetings will be to get all views. I was hoping that I could garner independent thinking. To envision how the protections under the law would protect the weakest among us. As you say Amalea.. It is true not all of us, would need or utilize the protections, we would have things in place for such an eventuality.. but not every one has a proactive sire or lineage."

Kaelyn: Kaelyn smiled adorably at Doc as he pulled on her curls. She didn't understand the conversation or what was going on at all, so would stay out of it. Fingers wiggled towards Amalea in greeting. "Hello, Amalea."

Mortll: Mortll thought about the Trainwreck that was Worthington when Doc spoke about lineage "Well It would be absolute absurdity to require people to act responsibly about sireing " Mortll rolled her eyes

[Doc]

It had taken all Doc’s reserve to ignore the file and socialize with the everyone at the Voodoo. It was almost like things were before Mortll and Enzo got bound. But they had gotten bound, and then Enzo left. And Doc had kept Mortll at arms length. He knew what she was going through. He lived it everyday. He had tried to warn her. He liked Enzo, and he would love to have him come back. But Enzo was a player. He broke hearts.. And moved on; which is what he did .. again.

It was because Mortll had shown up and decided to socialize herself, that kept him from leaving immediately and heading back to the lab to read the file. Mortll was making an effort to move on, and he needed to support that effort. And Mortll and Amalea. Doc had thought Mortll had been a bit reactionary when they had met before he left for Italy. Then seeing the two of them, exchanging grins.. Well… he had been surprised.. But it explained so much! No wonder Amalea had never ever seemed to even acknowledge his flirtatious overtures.

The conversation had widened, as Ariadne, Chub and Mordie came by. It was at the point, that Doc had said his good evenings, and exited the Voodoo. Now he was upstairs in the lab, ready to read the file. He opened the envelope and pulled out the file and the first thing he noticed was a handwritten note from Amalea that read “Sorry..”

Sorry? Why was she sorry? Because it took so long to the get the file? Because she had delayed the research? Or.. because she knew why Doc wanted the file? Did she know it was about Phoenix? Did Amalea know that Phoenix was related to someone all this time, and she purposely hid it? Or was it something more than that? Did Amalea know who was related to Phoenix and purposely hid it from Nix, because she feared Nix’ reaction? ****! Had Amalea known all this time and hid it from them both?

What did Amalea know? And what was she holding back? Because she had to be holding something back due to the ‘Sorry’ note. But what was it? Or was he simply reading too much into it? Yes. That had to be it. He was reading too much into things. Nix had been pretty private about her desire to find her birth mother. The chances that she spoke about to anyone was slim. He opened the file.

Doc stared at the face in the photo in the top left of the file.

No. He read the name on the file. No. Doc pulled Phoenix’ file and compared the two DNA reports. There was no mistaking it. They shared the same LOCI markers. He closed the files, slide them into a drawer and locked the drawer. He needed to speak to Amalea, and find out precisely, what the note ‘sorry’ meant. It was too late to meet back up tonight. Therefore, he texted Amalea.

Text: Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow.

[Amalea]

Amalea was starting to think her visits to Voodoo were cursed. It had started innocently enough – a discussion on vampire politics. She was happy that someone was trying to bridge relations with humans, but was surprised to find herself swept along for the ride. It wasn’t like she minded; all of her friends were vampires and she’d do whatever possible for them. It had just been the beginning of the oddities.

Next had come the babies or rather a very awkward, at least for her, conversation about babies; specifically her non-existent ones. Of course, one would argue she brought it upon herself by commenting that babynapping was an easy way to get a child without the mess of getting pregnant and delivering one. The conversation had just gone to hell from there with someone bringing up her having Doc’s babies, or fadebabies, if one was to be completely accurate. Of course, Mortll had had to ask if she was willing to have said fadebaby. It was also her bad luck that Doc had had “to make it clear” that she had never encouraged any sort of advances.

Then there had been tonight. It had started pleasantly, which wasn’t surprising given the company. She was secretly pleased that Doc had taken notice of her efforts at getting dressed up. At one time he had been interested, but as he liked to remind her, she had failed to respond favorably to those overtures. Her only defense was that she had been oblivious and naïve; now she was fairly certain the ship had sailed from the harbor. It was disappointing, but she was sure he’d find the right woman someday.

She hadn’t been sure how the file exchange was going to happen. It wasn’t a surprise when he had asked about it shortly after they had sat down; after all, he had been the one to call about the missing information. That he had pocketed it had been unexpected. She had though he would have wanted to confirm all the details were there and perhaps ask questions. Being that it was personal, she supposed it made more sense that he’d want to open it privately. It was part of the reason she had slipped a flash drive with the entire set of digital files into the envelope; she thought he’d appreciate having every last bit of information she had, even if some of it wasn’t printed.

It had been Mortll’s arrival that had heralded in the Voodoo Curse, as the red-head had begun to call it. Though, she supposed in retrospect, it may have been Ari’s flight in as an owl that had set it into play. Despite that, she was blaming Mortll given it was the female’s actions that were curse-worthy. That she had referred to Doc as Charles was the blood thief’s first clue that something was amiss, even without the look Doc had shot her; she’d never heard the necromancer call him by his first name before and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know why she did.

The woman’s comment about asking her out for drinks had caught her off-guard. Of anything Mortll could have said, that ranked pretty high on the list of ‘never in a million years’. It had been flattering but surprising; she didn’t even know Mortll swung both ways. Of course, she had been polite and thanked the woman and returned the compliment. It wasn’t flirting per se, but it was obvious Doc had taken it as such given the wide-eyed look he’d given her. While she nearly laughed, she really wanted to be banging her head against the table. She had given him a slight shake of the head in what she hoped would convey that she wasn’t a lesbian, but still wasn’t sure if he had read it as such.

Needless to say, Amalea had been grateful when an opening had presented itself where she could politely excuse herself and head home before any further incidents could arise. Kicking off her shoes as she closed and locked the door, she sighed in relief. She had made it through another weird night at Voodoo in one piece, at least physically. Mentally and emotionally was another story; a long bubble bath was definitely in order. Sinking into the mountain of bubbles that had amassed, the red-head nearly purred as the warm scented water provided some much needed stress relief.

It was a much calmer blood thief that emerged from the bathroom and crashed on the couch with her favorite book. Completely engrossed in the story, the text alert from her phone nearly caused her to fall off the couch in surprise. Once she had regained her composure, she reached for her phone to see who had sent the message. Seeing the name of the sender, she smiled before reading the message. Her nose twitched as she mulled over the seemingly simple request for dinner. After tonight, there were a large variety of reasons that could be behind the invitation; with the way her luck was, it was likely that he wanted to deliver a variation on the ‘you hurt her, I hurt you’ speech. She supposed she could decline, but that would be rude and there was no real, viable reason for not going. Aside from that, Doc was a good friend and it was possible it was either business or project related. She quickly typed up a reply and sent it on its way.

Text: Just name a time and place…preferably not Voodoo

Men were damned confusing, the red-head mused as she tossed the phone on the end table. That the two currently causing her issues were closely linked made it even more of a mess in her mind. On one hand, she had Doc, his mystery project and the enigmatic dinner request. At least one of the three would be answered the next night though she suspected she’d need years to figure Doc out; his project was his own and while she was curious, she would be content with whatever details, if any, he chose to share.

On the other hand, she had Cyril. It was obvious that he was interested in some fashion from her conversation with him yesterday. He had tried a bit harder than he had needed to, if she was honest; it had been clear on the train platform that camping wasn’t his thing. Even though she hadn’t been overly keen on the idea of grabbing lunch with him given the business aspect, she had been disappointed when lunchtime had come and gone and she hadn’t been able to get away from the city meeting. She had had her suspicions last night that Cyril had been the eavesdropper and there had been some small thrill to find out that she had been right. Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t pick up the phone and just straight up ask her out rather than beat around the bush. Idly, she wondered if the picture Doc took as proof would kick the man’s *** into gear.

In either case, she had no issues with pulling together another ‘dressed up’ look for her dinner engagement. It was fun for her, Doc seemed to appreciate it and it’d annoy Cyril, so it was a win all around in the red-head’s opinion. Now she would just have to wait and see where she was meeting Doc and sincerely hoped it wasn’t Voodoo, as she wasn’t sure she could handle another instance of the Voodoo Curse rearing its ugly head. In the meantime, she had a date with the bed.

[Doc]

Doc stared at his cell phone for twenty minutes, as he waited for a reply. But no reply came. Finally he realized Amalea would reply in her own time, in her own way. He sitting here waiting was not accomplishing anything except making him obsess negatively on the event. What he needed to be doing was planning his next steps. But part of him seemed unable to get past that small almost insignificant stumbling block. Why had she not replied yet?

Yes. Doc knew there were a myriad of reasons why should may not have replied yet. Perhaps she was busy in conversation with someone else. Perhaps she was absorbed with work, it was a natural assumption, she was a workaholic just as he was. That thought, in and of itself, caused his stomach to clench. What would be her reaction when he told her who she was related to …? The sensation of his roiling stomach was completely new to him. So much so it caused him to abruptly change the focus of his thoughts. What was causing this? It had been hours since he had imbibed anything, and as much time as had gone by, it shouldn’t be affecting him now, unless. He frowned, unless he was poisoned?

Even as Doc began to focus on the symptoms he had felt, they faded. Frowning, he thought back to the events of the previous few hours. The people he had been around. Who would have had the opportunity to poison him. He sat at his desk and started making notes. What kind of poison? Slow acting of course, because it only affected him in the last hour. But then again, the effects were gone so quickly. So it was metabolised quickly. So, it wasn’t a slow acting. So it had not been anything he had eaten. Contact poison?

The pen was placed down, and his hands held out in front of him, he studied them, turning them this way and that, looking for any contact dermatitis that would be indicative of an irritant, or poison, But Doc’s hands were pristine. Doc frowned. It was curious. He had felt his stomach seize. It was an unusual feeling. A feeling he had not felt since his turning, except for his attempts at ingesting human food. So for him to feel it out of the blue like this, there had to be a reason. But what? It was a puzzle. Moving to his bookcase he searched for and pulled a medical journal, and began reading it, hoping it would spur a new thought or line of inquiry.

----

It was a short time later his cell phone dinged. The sound was almost ignored, until he remember he was waiting for a reply. The journal forgotten, Doc picked up the phone and looked at the text. It was was Amalea, and she said yes, with a caveat to please not let it be at the Voodoo. Without missing a beat, he replied with the name a french restaurant he had favored when he was human. Then he stared at the phone again. He raked a hand through his hair. Now what?

He didn’t eat. Oh sure he could fake it. But why had he said dinner in the first place? He didn’t eat, and she knew he didn't. Why would he do that? What the **** was he thinking? What the **** was she thinking now? And.. he hadn't made reservations. **** me! The upside of not eating, never needing to make reservations again. Until now. Doc sighed. Where was his head? And then as if things weren’t fucked up enough, his stomach seized up again.

“****!”

Doc had shouted it out in frustration. What was going on? Abruptly pushing away from the desk, he stood and started pacing. It had been a year since he needed to resort to his calming mantra and repetitive pacing. The actions had been coping mechanisms he used when he was younger, and having to deal with his father. But then later, he used them to deal with the stresses of medical school, and finally the stress of evading the police.

As with most things, after one became accustomed to things, the anxiety and stress from those repeated instances faded with time and repeated experience. But this was a completely different event. This was one he had never been in before, and one he wasn’t sure how to proceed with. What if telling Amalea, caused her to avoid him? To distance herself from him? How would he feel about that? Normally he would have cared less what someone thought of him. **** them, would be his go to response. But not with this one. He didn’t want her to distance herself.

Growling with frustration and indecision, he paced as he wondered if he should tell her at all. Perhaps it was best to just say nothing. So Doc allowed his mind to follow that train of thoughts, only to have it end badly. Amalea being more than irate at his disregard for her feelings. He felt nauseous. He forced himself to breathe. Yes he knew he didn’t need to, but it was helping to make his focus.

****. The reservation. Doc grabbed the phone and dialled the number he had memorised from years earlier. The maitre d that answered the phone, was not a voice that Doc recognized. ****! He hadn't been there in years, and he wanted reservations for tomorrow night. Not even trying to play for sympathy, Doc blurted out the request, followed by he was a long time patron, and gave his name. The maitre d said he would check, and he was placed on hold.

While Doc was on hold, he cursed himself for reacting, instead of acting in a well thought out method. By rights, he should have made the reservations, made the offer, then when she accepted, given her the time and location. But was that what he did? No. Why not? He had no ******* clue. His frustration level was rising again as he waited on hold. They would going to apologize politely and then what the **** would he do? He had already told her the name. \

“****. ****. ****!”

Frustrated and angry, Doc was ready to just hang up and try to salvage things in a different way, when the maitre d came back on the line and gave him a time a 7:45pm. Doc’s relief was palpable. “Thank you! Really. Thank you.” No matter how bad the evening went, he would be leaving a ******* great tip.

[Amalea]

Amalea had left her phone on her nightstand as she finished getting ready to crash for the night. Normally she didn’t retire so early, but tonight had been draining and hiding under a comfy blanket in an air conditioned room sounded ideal. Truthfully, she would have preferred to curl up in her canine form, but wasn’t keen on having to clean up the shed fur come morning so the blanket won out. She had just stuck the toothbrush in her mouth when she heard her phone beep. Silently, she laughed as she continued as it was just her luck and she knew that it was very likely Doc with a location. If not, whoever it was was just going to have to wait till she was done.

It was only a few minutes later that she had finished up and returned to the bedroom. With a yawn, she slipped into the bed before retrieving her phone from the nightstand. A quick unlock of her phone brought her to her messaging center. Soft laughter filled the room as she scanned the message which was as predicted. Hitting reply, she typed out a return message.

[text] Sounds delightful. What time?

Having sent the message, she set her alarm for midmorning; she was going to take full advantage of tomorrow being her regular day off. While she really wanted to sleep till noon, there was too much to be done between getting ready for dinner and working on a couple new business ideas. Opening the to-do app, she made a list of things she needed to accomplish the next day with finding directions to the restaurant near the top of the list, an outfit came shortly after with research and other odds and ends rounding out the list. Satisfied that she seemed to have everything covered, her phone reclaimed its place on the nightstand just before she turned out the lights in an attempt to get some sleep.

---
Next Morning
---

The red-head grumbled as her alarm went off indicating it was time to get up and face the day. She was comfortable and cozy inside the cocoon that had formed from the blanket sometime in the night. Slapping her phone in attempt to silence it, she began to untangle herself from the blanket so she could at least hunt down some breakfast before starting her task list for the day. A couple slices of toast and a glass of orange juice later, the red-head jiggled the mouse to awaken the computer from its slumber. A quick Google search yielded both the address and directions she sought. By the looks, it wasn’t too hard to find.

Returning the plate and cup to the kitchen, she mentally ran her to-do list. While important, the research the blood-thief had in mind could be put off for a day or so as it wasn’t super critical. She wanted to get started on it soon, as she had many ideas she wanted to consider, but finding a suitable dress for the evening won out. That task was a fair bit more time sensitive, and if she was completely honest with herself, a lot more fun.

The walk to the bedroom was dominated by the mental argument of precisely what type of look for which she should go. By the time she reached the closet, the only thing she had decided on was something that wasn’t black and was suitable for the venue. The venue itself raised its own set of questions in the red-head’s mind; chiefly, why dinner? As far as she knew, Doc wasn’t one of the ‘lucky’ ones that could handle real food, though she supposed, it was possible he did and she just didn’t notice. Leafing through her closet, she began pulling out potentials for the evening. A yellow dress was passed by for being too bright while one of her purples was deemed too dressy. Anything black was an automatic no, which actually cut down the possibilities to an acceptable level.

As she tried one of the final contenders on, her mind returned to the question of’ why dinner?’ again. Even if he could eat, from what she understood about vampires, it wouldn’t be tasted properly, if at all. She knew vampires like Amara could enjoy the taste, but others would not. It was a puzzling mystery to the red-head and she knew it wasn’t likely to be one she would be able to solve anytime soon. Doc could be an enigma; it was one of the things she liked about him. Another dress was slipped over her head and she knew with a single look that this was the one for the evening.

Several hours and a couple books later, Amalea had donned the chosen dress with a set of black flats. Taking one last glance at the directions, she set out for the restaurant for a mysterious dinner. She was nervous as she didn’t know quite what to expect given she had no idea what reasoning was behind the invitation. Checking her watch as she got off at the closest train, she was glad to see she was still on time and that much closer to hopefully unraveling the mystery. It was a quick walk to the restaurant and she soon arrived, smiling as she saw she was indeed in the right spot.

[Doc]

Doc arrived early at Chez Andre. This was something set apart from his usual punctuality. He, himself, could not put pin down why he felt the need to be there early. He had reservations, he knew the restaurant. He had been a regular for years, until he didn’t need to eat anymore.

Perhaps that was it. It had been four years since he had been there. A lot can happen in four years. Would it still be the quality restuarant he remembered? Or had it slid down, as so many other businesses in Harper Rock had over the last four years? And if it had, what then? It was too late to go somewhere else, so arriving early really did nothing except to cause him to obsess on how badly he could **** this up.

Stopping at the Maitre D station, he waited patiently for the gray haired Maitre D to give him his full attention. When he did, the Maitre D paused for a quick second, and smiled widely. “Dr. Nilson! What a pleasure to see you. It has been some time.”

Lifting a brow, Doc gave him a closed lipped crooked grin, “Luca.. you’ve gone gray.”

“Ah, mon ami, I am not the only one.. Come tell me, where have you been? I trust it was not something we did? Though pleased we are to see you again.”

“No.. “ Doc shrugged, “You know how it is ..starting up a new business.. It takes revenue and time.”

“Oui! I did see that you opened your lab, and branched out too, I think. The travel agency is yours as well, yes?”

“Yes.. that was a hobby.. That grew into a business overnight it seemed.”

Luca returned to business, “So Dr. Nilson,” he scanned the list briefly, “Will you be dining alone as usual?” He reached for the single menu.

“No. Someone will be joining me.. Female,.. 25.. Red head.”

Luca gave Doc a grin, “Ah ha.. Good good. I have just the spot. If you will come with me. I will get you seated while we await your companion.”

Luca led Doc to the upper alcove, where table settings for couples were aligned along the large bay window, allowing the diners to either look down into the main dining room, or to view the city streets half a story below them. Doc knew these table were reserved for the couples, to give those passing by outside, the subliminal idea that the restaurant was meant for intimate dining. Normally Doc would have requested another location, but he wanted the evening to go well. And service would be on point, based on this location. So he said nothing. Yet, inwardly he cringed.

Once seated, it didn’t take long for a server to come by and take his drink order. He debated ordering for Amalea. Would she see that as being considerate,.. Or overbearing and arrogant. He erred on the side of caution. He wanted this evening to go well.

His drink had arrived, when he saw her enter. Too far away to hear, Doc watched as Luca was charming and congenial as he brought Amalea to the table. Doc stood, and moved to help her with seat, giving Luca a look that said ‘I got this..’ Luca smirked to himself, and headed back to his station. Once they were both seated, Doc gave Amalea a smile, “You look very nice this evening..”

Indecision hit him again. Should he steer the conversation? Or let it happen organically? He was saved from having to say anything, as if on cue, the server returned to get ‘the lady’s beverage order’. That was when Doc realized, this may not have been the best idea. Broaching that kind of conversation should be done in private, not where servers and strangers looked on. What the **** had he been thinking? Why had this not occurred to him earlier. Lost in his reverie, he realized that the server was leaving, and he had missed what she had ordered. Focus!

“The whole dinner thing.. Which you probably already know, I am out of practice.” He looked at her, “I wasn’t sure if I should have ordered for you.. And if I did.. I wasn’t sure what you would have wanted. Therefore I didn't. So.. I apologize if that was .. awkward.”

[Amalea]

Amalea hung around the front of the restaurant for a few moments as she had arrived too early. She paced back and forth wondering if she should just go home. Uncertainties made her anxious; her life turning into the mother of all insecurities didn’t help the situation at all. Finally, she talked herself into entering the restaurant given she couldn’t find an acceptable reason to leave Doc hanging. He was a good friend and she wasn’t going to just bail on him without an emergency arising.

She stopped at the Maitre D station so she could inquire if Doc had arrived. The question was answered even before it was asked as the gentleman told her Dr. Nilson was waiting for her. There was no point in querying how the man knew who she was meeting so she simply thanked and followed him to the upper alcove. He kept the conversation engaging without delving into the mundane, safe topics like the weather, which she found impressive. She supposed that one did not become a Maitre D at a restaurant of this caliber without having refined people skills.

While the red-head was still nervous, a part of her was relieved to see Doc. She smiled at him as she took the offered seat, oblivious to the departing, smirking Maitre D. “Thank you,” she spoke softly as he retook his seat. His comment brought a light blush to her cheeks, the curse off being a human, she supposed. “Thank you. You look rather fetching yourself,” she smiled.

As a testament to how well run the establishment was, the server seemed to appear by magic to get her drink order. The house Rosé was her choice. If the server was surprised that she requested a half-glass, he was careful not to show it. She wasn’t concerned with what he thought; she knew her own limits. She also knew better than to push them in some cases. This was certainly one of those.

She was wise enough to refrain from inquiring why he had chosen to meet for dinner. He had to have a reason and she was sure it would be clear in time. If the extended explanation was any indication, perhaps he was just as nervous as she was. Or perhaps she was projecting it or just imagining it. It was likely she was just reading more into it than what it was – a simple explanation. Shaking her head, she smiled reassuringly, “It’s alright. You’re not expected to be a mind reader.” There was a couple second pause before she continued, “This isn’t exactly normal for me either. So no expectations to be had on my end.”

[Doc]

Doc noted that Amalea ordered the Rose. His eyes flickered ever to slightly as she indicated she only wanted half of a glass. Only half a glass? Doc smiled pleasantly, as the server finished his work and left, but inwardly Amalea’s order gave him pause. Half a glass, meaning she wanted her wits about her, because she suspected.. What? A reason she would need her wits, against him? Was she worried -he- might try something? If only she knew. He sighed inwardly, but that was the whole point of this dinner.. To tell her, right?

Doc had reread the files on the thumb drive that Amalea had sent with the official paperwork, she had grown up without a father, and the mother, from what he could tell, was not what someone would describe as a ‘great’ mom. He could presume things about her, based on the file. But presumptions were just that; there was no fact to substantiate the suppositions put forth.

Once the server left, Doc wanted to put Amalea’s mind at ease. There was no telling what she was thinking, the only way to move forward was to take the bull by the horns and take on issue. He sipped his drink and then set the glass aside. He linked his fingers together and rested then on the edge of the table. “I am sure you have probably guessed, why I asked you here. It is about your file. There was a match from your database to a sample of long standing that we have had in our system.”

Doc pressed his lips together briefly, “It is important that you realize how the information could impact your life. I do not want you to think I am dictating your future actions. But there is a certain happiness that can be found in ignorance. Hence the saying ‘ignorance is bliss’. Once the information is known, you can never unknow it again. So I thought we could have a meal… and if you had any questions, about the file apart from the reveal, we could discuss them.. In such a way that you may have more information to make an informed decision about long term knowledge.”

When the server returned with Amalea’s half a glass of Rose, Doc went silent, giving the server the opening to start reeling off the menu options, “Tonight we have As appetizers we have Herbed Walnut and Citrus Tapenade, Broccoli Beer Cheese Fondue. And Phyllo-Wrapped Brie with Fig Preserves and Toasted Walnuts. For our main course we have as as options, Duck Confit, Coq au Vin, and Bouillabaisse. As sides for this evening, we have Green Bean Gratin, Fire Roasted Tomato au Gratin Potatoes, Cheesy Pumpkin Cauliflower Gratin and Potatoes Anna with Apples and Sage.”

Doc looked at Amalea, for her to go ahead and order. There would be time to discuss the other matter when server was gone.

[Amalea]

Amalea knew little would escape her companion’s notice. However, she would let him decide if he wanted to know the reason behind her seemingly odd choice. It certainly wasn’t a matter of trust; she had been completely honest the previous night when she had told him she trusted him implicitly. She just wasn’t going to admit, without a bit of coaxing, that her nerves didn’t mix well with alcohol. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin the night by getting sick.

Granted, the red-head still wasn’t sure why he had wanted to meet her. There were so many possible reasons; it was hard to narrow it down to even a couple. Her (nonexistent) relationship with Mortll, recognition of vampires, the file, Cyril…the list was a bit endless given she wasn’t even sure she could list all the possible reasons. In any case, no matter the reason, she wanted it to go well.

Her attention was brought back to the current moment by the sound of Doc’s voice as he commented that she had probably guessed at the reason for dinner tonight. She shook her head ever so slightly in indication that she hadn’t. The file, of course; perhaps she should have been able to take an educated guess on that. She relaxed slightly, at least he wasn’t about to go all rawr over last night’s display with Mortll. The file wasn’t precisely safe territory either, but it was familiar. “I hadn’t guessed,” she admitted quietly, “but I should have. A cold case?” That was an intriguing nugget of information.

Amalea could have laughed at his opening statement on the information impacting her life. He had no way of knowing that that one email from Troy had already turned her reality upside down. It was bizarre to think a few words on a screen could do that. Finding out you’d been lied to by your own mother and a man you considered a father was quite the shock; particularly when it those lies directly affected oneself. She supposed he was correct, ignorance could be bliss and there was no way of unknowing that information. Did she wish she had never learned of the deceptions? In this case, no; she only wished she had known about them sooner. Well, that, and finding out in a different manner would have been most appreciated.

There was sense in his words; the red-head couldn’t deny that. The red-head had to wonder though, what was so unique about this match to necessitate such pearls of wisdom. The proverbial skeleton in the closet couldn’t be that bad, could it? He had mentioned being afraid the file on her end was tied up with legal issues which would be problematic. But why; was it possible that this was some sort of law enforcement thing? Then again, he had started by saying it was a sample of long standing which meant it could be four or five years old; perhaps an unknown deceased relative?

The server returning with her wine had impeccable timing. It was a welcome distraction to disengage from their conversation for a moment to allow her to collect her thoughts. Rather, it would have been, until he began listing the options for the night, reminding the red-head that they hadn’t ordered yet. The list of options was concise which she supposed was the mark of a good chef. Restricting one’s menu meant that each dish could be given proper attention to each to ensure the highest quality. It was one of the reasons Crimson Delights had a maximum of eight heads for catering. “I’ll have the Coq au Vin with the green bean gratin, please,” she smiled politely at the server.

Amalea returned to her musing briefly as the server turned his attention to Doc. What kinds of questions was she supposed to want to ask? A name would be nice, but it would have to wait. As soon as the server departed, she gave Doc a soft smile, “I should start with an apology. If I had known it was for a project of yours, you would have had the file the day of the request. Perhaps I should be asking if you had any questions on it, to start?“

[Doc]

Doc waited until Amalea had finished, and added “Duck Confit, and the Fire Roasted Tomato thing.. Another one of these, Please.” He finished his drink, and handed the glass to the server. He waited until the server was too far away to overhear, to speak again.

“Yes.. it was.. is a cold case.” He wasn’t lying. It was cold. Ice cold. Phoenix wanted him to find her mother, instead, he found her father. Something neither of them expected. “You have no reason to apologize. Having to be vetted and go through the procedures is how things of that nature should work. Shortcuts lead to questions. The information is solid, and obtained by structured protocols.” He looked like he wanted to say something but he paused. After a significant pause he added, “However, as I said before, take some time, thoroughly think through how this could impact you. Not just the positives.. But the negatives. There is a saying.. “ he smirk, “I am full of ‘sayings’ tonight it seems, but it goes.. You can pick your friends.. But you can’t pick your family.” He took a breath to help him focus. “Enough of that, on to other things.

“I want you to know, that you are a very capable person in your own right. I know how hard it is to start a business in this city. I have thirty years experience, my own capital, and investors, and it was ******* hard to secure a loan for the lab. But you managed to do it with less experience, and I am guessing with less capital outlay. That tells me one of two things.. You are a formidable business woman who knows how to secure funding.. Or you have some really good dirt on someone.”

Giving her a crooked close lipped grin, “I would be impressed either way, but I know you. It is not the latter of the two. Being able to wade through the quagmire of health regulations and security protocols by itself is a feat. Having dirt wouldn’t help you there. Cyril told me how detailed and thorough your vetting procedure was. Never have I seen a guy get so aroused by paperwork. He was impressed by your attention to detail. Be forewarned.. The man has serious crush on you. If he gets to be a bother, let me know, and I will take care of it.

“What I am trying to say, is that you should be proud of who are you, and what you have accomplished. I know you have done it all by yourself. You are successful business woman, and You walk a fine line between two worlds and you do credit to both of them. I am proud of you. Most of us have a hard time fitting into one.. You fit into both of them.”