ArchivedLogs:Socializing
Socializing | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2013-09-08 ' |
Location
<NYC> Russian Tea Time - Upper East Side | |
This chic and upscale restaurant serves surprisingly little tea for their name -- though it can be found, on their menu, and quite good quality at that. Elegant and understated, there is an old-world feel to this place. For those who make their dress code (and book reservations enough in advance), the food here is good, hearty Russian fare, although the main attraction here comes not from their extensive food menu but from their extensive bar. Their vodka comes three double-shots to a flight, for those with strong constitutions (and a safe ride home.) It is perhaps rather early for heavy drinking, but it is a perfect time for lunch. The restaurant has quite a heavy lunch crowd, rich smells of food suffusing the air. Lucien is not at a table; he's seated at the bar next to a tall dark-haired woman, elegantly dressed in a turquoise cap-sleeved dress, the simple gold necklace at her throat and diamond ring on her finger quietly elegant as well. The plates in front of them are empty; there's a trio of shot glasses in front of each of them, though Lucien has as well a bottle of beer beside his. Shot glasses empty, beer glass half-full. He is just leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek, the warm smile on her face warming further at the touch. Though he sees her out -- there'a s sleek black sedan waiting for her outside -- he doesn't leave himself, taking his seat at the bar once more with a quiet exhalation. He slips his phone out of his pocket, finger tapping at its screen to pull up his calendar and email. One hand smooths at his crisp grey vest, though if it /has/ any wrinkles to smoothe out they're certainly not visible. Sam isn't such a social creature, at least not in any physical sense. As such he moves slowly through the bar, playing with his phone he seems unaware of his surroundings, his attention squarely on whatever information his phone is providing him. When he gets to the bar however he wears a content smile and raises a hand to get the barman's attention. Finally looking up from his phone. Iolaus doesn't enter through the front door. Nor, as it happens, through the back. Dressed in a fine black suit and brushing a few pieces of lint off of his jacket, Iolaus enters Russian Tea Time through one of the handicapped stalls, fortunately unoccupied. He is occupied by a much taller black man in a white dress shirt and black slacks that match his black dreadlocks. "Thanks, Reg." Iolaus says, glancing around the stall. His eyebrows furrow for a moment, opening the stall door and stepping out into the main bathroom. "How did you know there was no one in it?" he asks, curiously, as he walks over to one of the sinks and places his briefcase down onto the ground to wash his hands. "Whose saying I did know?" The guard says, flashing a smile of all white teeth. "We just got lucky." Iolaus gives the other man a grin in the mirror, lilting. "Well, we wouldn't have made it on time any other way, so, I guess that'll have to do. Come on - don't want to keep the donor waiting." With that, Iolaus picks up his briefcase and heads out into the main room. After a brief stop at the front to talk to the somewhat puzzled maitre'd - glances at the front door do nothing to elucidate him - Iolaus and Reg are guided to a table set right near the edge of the bar. Both men take their seats on one side of the table, and Iolaus sets his briefcase on the table, opening it to page through the documents inside. It is Reg who notices Lucien first as his eyes scan over the room. The tall guard nudges Iolaus and turns to murmur into his ear. Iolaus' eyes fall onto Lucien a moment later, and a smile spreads on his face. "Lucien." The doctor's voice is warm as he calls over to the other man. Lucien glances up from his phone when another joins him at the bar. There's a moment when his expression doesn't change, quietly neutral, his brilliant green eyes sweeping over Samuel. "Mr. Griffith." His softly accented voice is quiet, neutral as his tone is. His expression only warms in a small quick smile when his eyes shift to track the new entrants into the room, and his head tips in a small nod to Reg and Iolaus. "Good afternoon. I should think," there is a small trace of amusement in his tone, "that in your position you would prefer /not/ to make such entrances. Then again," he allows, mildly, "security is hardly /my/ line of work." As the barman arrives, Samuel orders a cup of tea (it's possible he missed the fact that the place is more of a vodka bar). He then turns to Lucien. He seems to take a moment to manage his thoughts before continuing. "Mr Tessier." He doesn't interrupt when Lucien begins to speak with Iolaus and Reg. "Better through the back door than through the front, when you see the kind'a people I saw outside his apartment. 'Sides, he was running late." The guard sounds completely unapologetic. Iolaus' attention glances to the other man at the bar, looking up and down Samuel and flicking a questioning look to Lucien. "Not that it seems to have mattered, considering we are still here before my fellow lunch companion." He says, shrugging his shoulders once. "Just as well. Always have to make a good first impression." "The kind of good first impression you would have made --" Lucien is glancing away from the others, back to the maitre d', who is conferring softly with another man in a crisp suit, glances shot Iolaus and Reg's way from across the room, "-- by taking such an unconventional route into the restaurant. I suppose everyone has varying standards of 'good'. Though I would, personally, take a few minutes' tardiness." He shuts the screen off of his phone, slipping it away into the pocket of his vest. "How is business going?" This is evidently to Samuel, his pleasant smile still softening his expression as he looks back to the other man at the bar, eyebrows raised questioningly. Samuel shrugs a shoulder. "I've finally got a time I feel can work without me looking over their shoulder." He grins in an amused fashion. "This means, I've got time to myself. I would like to say this means I'll spend more time being social, but the truth is it no doubt means I'll begin work on new projects." He glances to Iolaus. "Doctor Saavedro, it's good to see you again. I gave your credentials to several of my associates along with my strongest encouragement that they speak with you. It helped I hope?" He takes a sip of his tea as it arrives. "I'm afraid that certain business expenses made my own donation less than feasiable, though I can change that any time now." "Good to see you again as well, Mister Griffith." Iolaus says, nodding his head with a smile. "It has been a while - not that you would notice," he says, glancing around at the room with a light smile. "No apologies are needed, please. I've spoke with a few of the people that you referred to me, thank you. The introduction was very helpful." he says, politely. His eyes glance to Lucien once more, before sliding back to Samuel. "Too much work can hurt your ability to work, so they say. That's what people are always telling me, anyway. I have yet to see much evidence of that, myself, I admit," he says, laughter light in his voice. "But it is probably good advice, regardless." "It is often harder to see things," Lucien murmurs down to his empty plate, hand dropping to rest on his knee, "when we live with the evidence of them every day." He glances up towards Samuel, a flicker of amusement in his expression. "Some people just are not built for socializing, I suppose. Hopefully your new projects will be engaging, at the least." Nodding to Iolaus, Sam grins. "True, though I've never found my work tiring. In fact I find computers... Easier than people." There's a chuckle as he looks at Lucien. "We shall see, I at least intend to make an effort this time." He shrugs a shoulder. "I think when you spend more than a month in a lab without any direct human contact and fail to notice this fact until it's pointed out to you... That's time to step back and evaluate your life." "Perhaps. I admit, I have not been to such extremes myself. That is rather more than even I've done." Iolaus chuckles, glancing towards the maitre'd at the door and to the glass door beyond. "Reevaluation might be necessary, at that point, if only for your mental health. That kind of isolation can be very unhealthy." He looks down at his watch and then up to Lucien. "How are things going with you, Lucien? I know things have been rather... busy for you, at late. Is the change one that you are enjoying, so far?" he queries. "It is certainly a big one." The doctor picks up a menu, eyes skimming down it once before he turns back to his watch with a frown. Lucien's lips twitch into a small curl of smile. "I should think the time to step back and evaluate your life comes long before that. But," his hand lifts, tipping palm-up as his fingers spread in a gesture of indication of the other two men, "to each their own." His hand falls back to his lap. "Busy. Yes. That is a fairly apt description." He slides down out of his chair, slipping the suit jacket off of its back to drape it over his arm. "Busy enough I should perhaps leave you to your work and return to mine. I do hope we have time to catch up more extensively soon, though, Iolaus. I do not see you near enough these days, and I'm sure after fall that will only get worse." Nodding Samuel sighs. "I seem to have an... Exceptional tolerence for isolation. I show none of the mental strain most do under the conditions." He inclines his head to Lucien. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you again." "If it works for you, then it works for you," Iolaus adds, gently. "Not everyone is the same as everyone else. Doctors - myself included! - are too quick to see a diagnosis, these days." The doctor's attention flicks over to Lucien for a moment. "I would like that, very much, Lucien. When you have a spare moment, give me a call and we can arrange something. It has been far too long since we caught up," Iolaus says, giving the other man an affectionate look. "Something which I would pefer to remedy sooner than later, if your schedule is accomidating." "For you," Lucien answers with a tip of his head, a warm smile, "I am sure I can be accommodating." He turns the same warm smile to Samuel, fingers lifting to touch to his forehead in a lazy salute. "If it works for you --" He gestures to Iolaus, a sort of what-he-said flick of indication. "It was lovely running into you again. Take care." He shrugs into his jacket, offering a nod to the maitre d' across the room before he slips back out into the daylight. Sam turns his attention to Iolaus, his expression thoughtful. "We discussed briefly the possibility of my donation. I can at present spare fifty thousand dollars." He tilts his head thoughtfully as though considering that number before continuing. "I can make the arrangements fairly soon. Though under the current circumstances, I'd like to request my company not be mentioned. I have no issue with personal connections to your hospital, but my company needs to be kept out of such issues." "Of course, Mr. Griffith. Anything that you give is more than welcome," Iolaus says, nodding his head gratefully. He glances up as a tall woman walks through the door, and he stands as well. "If discretion is what you are looking for, we can most certainly accomadate." He opens his briefcase and pulls out a business card. "Give my head of fundraising a call and she can coordinate any requirements you may have," he says, stepping over to present Samuel with the card between two fingers, a warm smile on his face. "If you'll excuse me, I have an appointment for lunch. My apologies," he says, heading back towards the table. "Madam, it is good to see you again," Iolaus says, extending a hand to greet the woman approaching the table and sit her down to try and pry a donation out of her clutches. Sam nods with a smile. "Of course, I hope you have a productive meeting. With that he takes a final sip of his tea, rises and makes for the door, his smile a touch warmer as he looks at the man. "I look forward to seeing your continued good work." |