Atlantic City wasn't small by any means, did New Jersey even had small towns? Then again, most places were big in comparison to where she had grown up, but every place had it's tightly wound communities. This one could be like that, even with all of it's hustle and bustle.
She was lucky no one had tried to talk to them, Jayati could be testy when she was interrupted on the job and this felt a bit like that. More than a bit, and more than a hint of risk in it too. But there was a time in history where people like this man were used to find people of her sort who were in hiding, and less able to defend themselves than she was. This close to home, this man was a danger, and he could be dealt with in one of two ways.
Jayati would do whichever was necessary for her home and her people. That was her duty, and more importantly, her calling.
Already she was gaining an idea of his limits, and wondering how they could be refined, but again, that really wasn't her normal scope of operations. So she stowed the card after nodding her thanks to him for trying. Instead she pulled out a receipt from the gas station this morning and a pen from the inner pocket of her jacket. On it she wrote down her number, "I won't discuss it here, and I won't even tell you more than you want to know. It might be easier for you that way. Honestly. But if you want to, here is my number." It was jotted down in precise writing, along with her first name, and slid back over to him.
"I can assure you that you don't have cancer or anything contagious," But then she paused, "Well. Maybe if you want to have children, but I would try and be a little less obvious about it. In case someone more hungry than me notices." Hungrier for power. Less understanding. More prejudiced. With more grudges. Less compassionate. Not that she was the most tactful out there, clearly.