selina kyle, the catwoman. (kleptomaniacal) wrote in gothamknights, @ 2008-09-24 16:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | selina kyle |
narrative: jetsetting.
Ramon Sanchez prided himself on many things he chose to do with his time.
Sometimes it involved hosting big, boastful martini parties with his best friends, wherein everyone would discuss how much wealthier they'd become thanks to the bank accounts they'd set up in foreign countries. Sometimes it involved doing lines alone in the suite he'd rented, with his mistress idly draped over the luxurious sofa, stiletto'd feet propped up as the television blared.
And sometimes, it involved buying pearl strands at fine jewelry stores for his wife back home. Everyone on the beach had overheard the loud, sirrupy tone he'd dripped through his phone. The business trip was going well, that was why he hadn't called her before now. Very busy, many deals being closed. He'd even bring her back a little something for being such a good girl, waiting for him. He'd see her soon, baby. Of course, the tone changed as soon as he hung up, turning to put an arm around his mistress, who'd just rolled over from giving her back and the backs of her legs a good baking. One gold tooth glinted in the sun as he assured the woman, who likely didn't care one way or another, that the wife wouldn't expect a thing. She thought he was in Florida. Probably didn't know where Florida even was.
Sanchez did not, however, pride himself on losing money -- whether it came in the form of hard cash, his secret bank accounts, or the pearl necklace he purchased for his wife the next day. It was polished up so nice and pretty, the pearls shone with green and pink sheens. Expensive, but not by relative terms. Not for his income.
His angered roaring upon finding the pearls missing, box and all, from his dresser drawer was enough to shake everyone a few doors down and one story up out of their drunken stupor. Everyone, that was, except his mistress, who simply rolled over and placed a pillow over her head.
---
Thousands of miles up in the air, the pearl necklace in question was being examined against a newly-tanned collarbone.
"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?"
Selina Kyle glanced up at the stewardess, green eyes hidden behind the sunglasses she had yet to remove. Her two bags were scattered over the next two seats, casting shadows on the newly-purchased sundress she was wearing. Hey, when you were on vacation by yourself in Sao Paolo, you had plenty of time to go where you wanted, do what you wanted. Whoever said solo trips had to be depressing?
The international jewel thief grinned, idly adjusting her shades with recently-manicured nails. "I'll have a martini -- dark chocolate. Haven't given a toast to myself in a while."
The stewardess grinned somewhat nervously back, marking something down on her order pad. "Gotta indulge, huh? I'll bring that right back for you." And she was off, headed down the aisle to the next person.
The dark-haired woman returned her gaze to the new necklace. She'd enjoy wearing this one at Gotham's parties. It wasn't expensive enough to fetch her a decent amount of money if she resold it, and the creamy white color would be a nice offset to her new tan. The verdict? Keeper.
Besides, although she'd never seen the wife -- she was almost certain that the pearls would look better on her anyway.