Re: The Cat: Matt & Cat
"I can't resist making a profit," she teased about his request she not take his beauty routine to the magazines. She could've dropped back to English, like he did. But she didn't speak Russian often, and it was comfortable. After a night of locked doors and locked windows? She could use a little bit of comfortable. Sure, she wouldn't wish her childhood on her worst enemy, but it was still her childhood, and it still came with memories of being too young to understand how hard life really was. Even young, living in an orphanage and stuffing her ratty teddy with a portion of her pick-pocketing take, she'd had hope that she would come out on top. Blind hope, and she wasn't that kind of blind anymore, not about anything, and she hadn't been in a very long time.
And, sure, she knew about his little trigger problem. But she also trusted her own ability to take him down, should it come to that. She was a little out of practice, but that was something she was remedying before her little job interview with Tethys. By the time she showed up to work? She would be ready. But right now? She entirely believed she could handle anything that happened in this bar, and that wasn't all ego. Cat? She was just that good.
She chuckled, the sound warm and entertained, her head tipped back and the line of her neck a smooth and uninterrupted thing. It was a hedonist's chuckle, something belly-born, and she shook her head. "You're supposed to at least make demands. Did no one teach you?" she teased. "One drink." Because he left it up to her, and he ought to learn a lesson or two about that.
"Assuming you do a good job. Bring me a bourbon?" She folded her own towel on the counter, and she left him to the customers. She? Felt like a game of pool, and the clients always liked being socialized with. Anyway, wasn't the whole point distraction?