That was where Cat's mossy gaze lighted when she opened the door. On his fingers and upon that doll. Had he left the door unlocked? Oh, that was her secret, but she didn't knock. She didn't even consider it, and perhaps it was her payback for his desertment of her in that weight room. Oh, she wasn't going to admit that it had been her, but wasn't it obvious? She'd known it was him, and yet here she was, standing in his doorway.
She was dressed in skintight denim and a designer t-shirt in emerald. The shirt cost triple digits, and no one would think the slip of cotton was anything special, not without looking at the label tucked away and hidden under a cascade of dark hair. Her stilettos? Those were Louboutin, and she was soundless on them as she stepped into the room.
For a moment, a sliver of time, everything stopped. She was in an altogether different room, and that room smelled like this one. She blinked unseeingly, and the single bed was replaced by cots, and she shivered as the present slammed back into her. She hugged herself, and it was a show of vulnerability that hadn't been intended. She chuckled, a bitter sound of acknowledgement, and she walked over to the dolls in a row. With graceful fingers, she tucked the dolls into each other, and she was entirely present by the time she was done.
She dragged her hand over the cat's fur, the feeling soothing beneath long fingers. Recovered enough to drape herself into the chair, the cat obliging her by moving to the bed, and all the seductive grace that guarded her was back where it belonged. She smelled of musk, of spices, of warmth, but she didn't feel particularly warm, not in that moment.
Cat? Had no idea how to play chess well. Oh, she'd sat down at a game before, because rich mobsters liked moving pieces around and pretending they were other Families. Twelve, and she'd found herself on a very powerful man's lap, and she'd listened as he explained to her what the pieces meant. It had been a game for him, but nothing had been a game for her, not then. But, even with the lesson, Cat had never been a planner, and she'd never been good at chess, but she knew the rules well enough to send her horse in the board using the right angles.
She didn't say anything still. Instead, she reached out her hand and moved a pawn forward. Finally, she parted confidence-red lips. "I'll take a drink. Vodka, neat, no need to bother with ice." No, she certainly didn't need ice.