Re: The Bar: Cat & Isaiah
Cat? Cat knew about him, if coincidences turned out to not be coincidences, and if he turned out to be Calvin's son. Calvin had been a good man, and he'd been an unwilling scientist. She'd liked him, even if he had been the one to find a working serum. An excruciating working serum, one that had changed her life and left her memory full of gaps. She remembered the days after the serum, and they'd thought she would die. She'd thought she would die. The attempts before? Those had been uncomfortable, but the final one? She'd known that one was different from the moment it hit her veins. But she'd liked Calvin, because Cat lived in a world where you did what you had to in order to survive, to protect the people that mattered. And Cat didn't hold what Calvin did against him.
He'd talked about his son often, and Cat considered coming right out and asking Isaiah B if he was The Isaiah B, but she was never fond of being direct. Blame the thief in her, but Cat, she liked to be circumspect. It was more entertaining, and cats did like to play with their food.
He said she should advertise, and she lifted a brow. "But me saying it is so much more effective than a sign, don't you think?" Her lush smile stayed, warm and welcoming and tell me your secrets. "We have the hard stuff, but you asked about the light stuff," she said of the beer, and she fished out a glass and pulled on the tap. She tipped the bottle, got a good head on the pilsner, and she placed it in front of him on the bar. She tucked her cloth into the folded-over apron she wore at her hips, and she grinned at him. "You'll have to rate me once you're done." She cleared her throat. "How likely would you be to return? Not likely. Moderately likely. Very likely. Mind you, my personable bartender isn't in yet, so don't judge me too harshly."