Re: Selina C/Jack P: the (bad) diner
Cat rolled her eyes. "The bartender at the place across town? Serves swill. He's clearly lacking in sense. Come drink at the Cat, instead."
She stood, long limbs encased in designer clothing that managed to just keep from being pretentious. The smile she gave him was surprisingly genuine; she always was more comfortable around society's dregs. Oh, this editor? He wasn't a stellar citizen, not by any means. But for Cat? That just made him more trustworthy. He was unapologetic and what he was, and it was the people that tried to appear squeaky clean that one needed to concern themselves with.
"Remember my little drinking establishment in your next column, if you want to really thank me. The bar game in this town? It's cutthroat."
She smiled at the bartender, and she made her way for the door. Bed beckoned, and she intended to sleep until the bar opened in the afternoon. "Merry Christmas, Jack." Lush and warm, and then she was gone. Out the door and into the winter cold.