Moema had tended to five separate cases in the past two weeks and it would seem that only Ryan's circles wives and girlfriends and mistresses were her clientele. She didn't mind. Work was work and afforded her a very comfortable life. She was able to hire someone to purchase her groceries for her so that she could avoid going to the Market.
She was also able to hire more nurses and did blind interviews where basically she had resumes sent in with first initials and last names, no gender or race. Only those things. With that, she hire Jamison Kenith and Yolandi Smith. Jamison was a riveter and Yolandi… She was of ill repute. But now both were Nurses under Moema.
Having just released another patient after a solid Recovery, Moema was finishing up some paperwork when a knock echoed in the quiet office. "Enter at will." She states, continuing to write.
She didn't even look up when the door opened. "Heya Doc." That caused her to look up and sigh at the sight of Frank Fontaine shutting the door behind him.
"Mr. Fontaine. What a surprise." Sighs out Moema, who caps her pen and sets her paperwork in a folder. "To what do I owe this impromptu visit?" She didn't even bother to ask how he got in. Yolandi was working the front at the moment and was very susceptible to strong willed men.
"So you hired Landi, huh?" he rubs at his chin and sits in one of the two chairs in front of her desk, "Interesting choice. Yours or Steinman's?"
"I hired her." Nods Moema.
"Hm. I wouldn'ta pegged you fer hirin' whores'n'th'like…"
Moema clenches her jaw, "Perhaps that is what she was before I knew her, but now that she is under my employ, she is an effective member of my team. Is there a reason you are even here, Fontaine?" she glanced at her clock and then her open schedule, "I have a meeting in twenty minutes."
"I wanted to discuss some business with you…" he chuckles a moment, "Perhaps I shoulda scheduled..?"
"Perhaps you should have." Nods the woman.
"Tell you what, Doc! You meet up with me for dinner and we'll talk."
"Why would I go anywhere with you, Mr. Fontaine?"
"Well, from our last talk, I figured you would prefer to help people than waste all your time on the mistress' of the rich!" he stood, "Tell yuh what, Doc. I like yuh and I wanna help yuh… So-" he reached into an inner pocket and set a card down showing Kashmir Restaurant. "meet me here, tonight. Say around 8 or so…" he then winked at Moema and went towards the door, "Wear somethin' snappy."
That earned him a set of quirked brows. And with that, he left, leaving Moema to sigh and stretch her fingers to as far as they would go on their own. She supposed she would go. It was curious, his attraction to bothering her… Maybe she could figure out what the hell he wanted? Maybe. Yeah, she'd hear him out and go from there.
Moema stepped into Kashmir in a stark red dress that reached just below her knees and was off-the-shoulder with a black sheer bit that wrapped all the way around. A thick black belt cinched to her waist nicely, and black low-heeled shoes shined nicely in the dim lighting. Her hair was done up- well, most of it was done up. There was just so much hair! Perhaps it was time to get it cut?
God, what was she doing here?
"Why hello Doc." Came the greeting from Frank Fontaine as his hand hovered over her lower back. "Don't you look snappy?"
She ended up giving him this dead-panned look that only furthered his amusement. "Shall we?"
"Oh, we shall." He motioned her to a table in a darker corner. Moema couldn't help but roll her eyes. There was another man sitting there, a kinder looking man. Though, his clothing seemed rugged. A working man. Moema preferred working men to men in suits. They held values she found enduring. "Doctor Moema Suero, meet Atlas."
"Just Atlas?" asks Moema, giving Fontaine a look of suspicion as he motioned she scoot in. "I refuse to be entrapped by you, Fontaine-"
"Ere." States Atlas, scooting to the center of the booth. "And ye, jus Atlas."
Moema smiled thankfully at Atlas and sat where he had, leaving Fontaine to shake his head and unbutton his jacket to sit. "I see." Nodded Moema. "Where do you work, atlas?"
"Fisheries…" he answered shortly, glancing around.
Moema looked towards Fontaine and frowned, "Just what are you playing at, Fontaine. I am frankly tired of your silly games."
Frank lifts both hands in a placating gesture, "Calm down, Doc. Let the man tell you his story, would yuh?"
Huffing, Moema turned her attention back to the charismatic looking Atlas, and motioned he carry on.
"I got friends working everywhere… And the ways they're treated an' paid is awful." He stated. His lacking grandeur and tale left Moema to bob her head. "We ain't got no one t'speak fer us."
"And you want me to speak for you?" Moema asked.
"Nah. We just want the proper medical care, is all… It'd be a start. Yanno?" she nods at Atlas' words.
Heaving a small sigh, Moema glances around, "Why was this such a lead-around, Fontaine? You could have brought him to my office…"
"Didn't wan'ta risk it." He states.
"Did you think I was kidding in the Bathysphere, Fontaine? Do I look like one who cares about some silly Status Quo?" she had to stop before her voice rose. Clearing her throat, she gave a solid look to the bald man, "You don't need to yank my chain, Mr. Fontaine. Now then, if you gentlemen will excuse me-" she begins to get up but Frank reaches out and latches onto her wrist.
"I said there'd be dinner… Didn't I?" he chuckles before making a small fuss over letting her go.
"Well, I can't stay… Moira'll be in a right fit if'n I don't return soon." Atlas states, standing.
"Moira?" Moema asks, curious and a twinge jealous. Sure, she just met the man, but there was something about him… About that boyish grin he gave when she asked about Moira.
"Me wife." He hefted out a wallet and flashed Moema a picture, showing a rather lovely looking pale skinned woman with dark hair and freckles. "Tha's m'son. Patrick."
She allowed herself a moment to feel that little crush of her soul before offering a faint smile to Atlas, "Your family is a handsome one. I am envious of all you happen to have."
Atlas grinned and looked Moema over for the first time, "Were I a single man, Doctor Suero…" he then shook Fontaine's hand and left.
Fontaine looked over Moema as she sat down and then towards the door. "I see you took a shine to Atlas…"
"He feels like an honest man." She shrugs, "I like honest men. I cannot be held at fault for my preferences."
"What if he cheated on his wife with you?"
Moema opened her mouth then shut it. After a long moment, much to Fontaine's amusement, she squared her gaze with his, "He wouldn't be an honest man and all that I like about him would be moot."
With a shake of his head, Fontaine chuckles, "You are one complex dame, Doc."
"Why is it you refuse to use my name and, instead, insist on silly nicknames?" she blurted out.
Fontaine gave a shrug, "I dunno, Doc. I can't bring myself to call you Suero… And I don't think you'll enjoy me usin' yer first."
"Hm." A short nod came from the woman in red, "You have a point, I suspect."
A small chuckle escaped Fontaine before he flagged down a waitress for food. The two ordered and shared rather insignificant discussion… Like weather.
"Do you miss the weather?" Moema asked.
Fontaine scoffed, "Nah. You?"
She got a far off look and nodded, "Of course. Sporadic mid-spring rains were so… Cleansing."
He scoffed, "Cleansing?"
She nodded, "Yeah. I could stand in it or sheltered from it and just feel…" her head shook as she searched the thoughts in her head, "like everything was getting washed away. Every deed, every sadness, every nightmare… Gone." Her bare shoulders bobbed in a shrug. "That's what it felt like for me."
Fontaine grew a serious look on his face as he rubbed at his chin. "I think I wanna see fer m'self…"
"Tch." Moema smirks, "Good luck with that."
He forced a grin back at her.
Their food was served and there was a little more conversation as they ate. When the food was cleared away, Fontaine set his napkin on the table and leaned back, "How do you feel about dancin'?" At the curious look on her face, he opens his hands and brings them up to either side of his torso. "I feel like dancin'."
For a long moment, Moema eyed Fontaine before leaning over the table a little, "What is it you want from me, Fontaine?"
He shrugged and noisily cleaned his teeth with a combination of tonguing and sharp sucking. "Ordinarily, I don't want nuthin' from no woman save one thing. I go through the formalities, the night ends, I take 'em home and that's that. But you… Forgive the classic use of the line, but you ain't like the other women here… And it ain't just your blood… I watched you at Ryan's party. You didn't take shit from no one and you certainly don't take shit from me… And, although I find that pretty annoyin', it's also intriguing." He shrugged and clapped his hands lightly before crossing his arms, "You intrigue me…"
She turned her head slightly, eyeing him warily.
Fontaine readjusts and leans his elbows on the table, arms still crossed, "I mean, when I went after you in the Bathysphere, you dished as good as you got… Had me goin'-"
"You don't believe me." Moema stated, shaking her head.
"What happened out there don't really concern me down here, Doc. You ain't got proof, do yuh?" he released his right hand to point at her.
A look of 'Are you stupid?' crossed Moema's face, "Who keeps evidence of such acts?"
He shrugs, "So no." a nod and then his right hand re-tucks into the crook of his left arm. "And it seems that tiny little you could take down any grown man is pretty far-fetched…"
Heaving a sigh, Moema nodded, as if this was her lot in life. "Great. Thanks for dinner, Fontaine." She then stood and headed out the door, leaving Fontaine to toss his hands up before giving chase.
"C'mon, Doc!" he called after her. "You can't blame me for not believing you!"
"And you can't blame me for being insulted by your blatant ass-hattery." She retorted with a small snarl. "Go home Fontaine… Or better yet, find yourself some night worker, as I'm sure you're accustomed to…"
Fontaine offered a dry chuckle before his longer legs caught up with her pace and set him in front of her, effectively halting her. "Would you calm down, Moema? Christ!" he latched onto her arms, "You gotta see it from my point'a view…"
She shook her head once more and let her tongue dart out to wet her lips, "I don't have to see anything from your point of view, Frank. Now kindly remove yourself from my person."
"If I do, you'll run off again…" When she rolled her eyes and looked away, he crouched slightly to get to her eyelevel and leaned to the side, "Hey, now, Ema…" the nickname drew a curious look from the dark skinned woman. "You are wearin' a smokin' red dress made for dancin'… So, let's just dance, a'ight?"
She opens her mouth and looks about in frustration, "Why do you focus on such trivial things?"
"Why do you only focus on the important shit? Take a break. You'll work yourself t'death, Ema." Came his response.
Grimacing, she shook out of his grasp, to which he raised both hands to free her. Then, she turned on her heel and headed back to Kashmir, leaving Frank to grin.