Almost as quickly as she'd gone, Cat returned to the table, another takeout container full of jasmine rice and a serving spoon in hand.
"Please, help yourselves, take as much as you want." She gave them a sly grin. "I chose my three favorite dishes on the menu, so there's no danger of me not having what I want."
Cat was in the habit of stacking the deck in her own favor where possible.
There was a sudden flash of familiarity to the scene, and a sudden, strange feeling of mistrust toward Rylee -- but not Rylee. More and more, recently, there'd been these little pushes of thought, and each one made Cat push harder against it than the last. It would have been easy to confuse them with her own intuition, but her own intuition was built on years of experience with people, observing them, being able to identify what their type was in minutes, if not seconds, and Rylee was clearly a sweet boy.
But there was something else, whatever it was inside her insisted.
She ignored it.
"So how do you like California, Rylee?" she asked as she set the container and spoon down and took her own seat.