It was a grand meal, though Samuels could always expect that from the small, quiet Italian restaurant she often found herself when she ventured from the facility. Enough people knew about the out-of-the-way place so that business was healthy, but it wasn't overwhelmed. It was clear to her that patrons knew what they'd found and simply didn't want to share it far and wide and spoil it, and there was good reason. The food was five-star. She would put it against any place she had been with clients or those within her network that waited for months to get into.
Those that ran it were the other half of the reason it was what it was. Three generations of the same family worked it and were every positive stereotype you could carry with you into such a place. They were interested in their customers and their lives, bantered back and forth with each other with the humor and energy that only a close-knit family can, and created an atmosphere of a home away from home where you were always welcome.
She admitted to herself that sometimes she went there just for that. She went just to have someone give her the illusion that they let her in for a time. Sometimes she went to listen to them be a family. She had made her sacrifices and she'd do it over again because she had done groundbreaking work in any number of fields. Her knowledge and that of her compatriots were decades ahead of anyone else anywhere and that was worth it.
Still...
"There's my ride," she said to the full-figured woman who looked like everyone's grandmother as the gleaming black limousine cruised to the curb, street lights reflecting brightly from it as it slowed then stopped.
A hand touched her back as her other arm held the door open as the older woman watched it slow to a stop, "It's a pretty ride."
"Just let me know when you'd like a ride and I'll take you for a spin around town."
She dismissed it with a grin, "Those are only for weddings, funerals and rich people who don't want to drive anymore."
Samuels smiled, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement as, behind her, an already tall woman that had no fear of heels, a brown bob, unique gray eyes, and a black pinstripe business suit moved with a dancer's grace around behind the vehicle to open the door for the doctor. "I'll have you know that I still drive, I just like to go around my city in style."
"
Your
city, eh?"
"Born here, live here, know where the best Cannoli are."
The restaurateur laughed. It was a sincere and joyous sound. "Yes you do. Next Friday?"
"Of course, my dear."
Samuels heard, "See you then." from behind her.
"Thank you, Staci," she said just after she was settled into the plush leather and before the door closed.
"A pleasant dinner, I trust?"
She glanced to Traci, happy to see Staci's near-literal copy in body and literal in attire looking happy to see her. "It was very nice, as usual. I trust nothing unusual happened while I was away."
"Very routine, Doctor," she said as Staci took her place in the vehicle next to her sister before the vehicle pulled into traffic once again. Traci glanced once again at her phone."Nothing of note."
"Good." She was happy for the lull. Her work life seemed to cycle that way. Problems would blossom from one end of the operation to the other. A procurement didn't go as designed and alternate plans had to be made. Sometimes a client got snotty because they were kept waiting when it came to having their wishes fulfilled. Then there was always the ebb and flow of internal politics. There was nothing that she couldn't handle, but the lulls let her play and enjoy the fruits of her labors, and the night was young.
"Have you made any other plans for the evening?"
"No..." She thought about it before giving it finality. "Nothing really jumps out at me. Let's just enjoy a drive."
The car cruised the heart of the city and she took it in. She liked cities best at night. It was calmer, though in cities like hers, it was never asleep. And there was just a different sort of life being lived after the sun goes down. She thought cities at night were almost their own artistry as the lights of the buildings and bridges seemed to paint with light in a way that entertained her eye.
Circling outward from the near center of the city they crossed a suspension bridge to that section of any city that nestled itself between the affluent center and the seedy underbelly. It was still reasonably clean, modern, and respectable, but neon could be found far more often as could the chain restaurants, drug stores and all the other pieces that kept the center running smoothly. Of course, there were other elements that kept the center running smoothly, too, but that being the reason they were there was never talked about in those terms.
It was always couched in terms of "other." If not for the drug dealers, ladies of the evening, petty thieves and the like, the city would be paradise. They never accepted that nothing existed that there wasn't a need for. If a city didn't have people to fill those needs it would create them because the people weren't examples of paradise. They were rife with vices and those would be fulfilled one way or another. Without those needs met their paradise would implode.
Concessions were made though in order to help keep the illusion going. The young men and women selling themselves and whatever other product they were plying had better clothes and were a bit more sociable. The women walked up and down the street stopped to chat with men rather than just standing on the corner hanging themselves out like meat on a hook.
As the limousine traveled Samuels rolled the window down and surveyed the scenes before her. A Mercedes had pulled up to a dealer and a young woman was chatting up a middle-aged man in expensive casual clothes. Perhaps it was the pristine white tube dress that caught her eye and made the girl stand out and how that contrasted with the straight, dirty blonde hair. Perhaps it was how she stood, as if she knew what she had, what she could do, and what she was worth. Perhaps it was the strength of that person that was conveyed in her dark eyes along with a profound vulnerability that Samuels could see even from the distance between them.
Those eyes looked away from the man she was speaking to long enough to make contact with hers. The woman's lips turned up and, after a moment, she went back to her conversation. Samuels leaned back in her seat contemplating that moment. "Back around the block," she called out to the unseen driver. She didn't wait for an acknowledgment that wouldn't come, instead, simply waiting to come back around.
"Something of interest, Mistress?" There was enough individuality left in the two them that no one would readily know that they had been almost completely remade by the doctor.
"I think so. Let's just come back around and make sure."
