Re: Bar: Cat/Matt
His sidelong expression, that incredulity at her suggestion that he could be the plant? It made her smile. No warmth, all lip, and he might not get up-close and personal, but that? It was her specialty. She could con someone, spy on them, win them over, and she could do it so very close that they would feel her breath upon their cheek. Oh, sure, she was an unbelievably amazing safe cracker, and there wasn't a place she couldn't break into - or out of. But the fact that she could sell whatever needed selling? Up-close, personal, that was what made her a valuable asset. Too messy. Cute. As if their entire lives weren't messy.
She watched him. She didn't know what was going through his mind, but she knew something was passing where she couldn't see, behind those eyes. It just made her all the more certain that she'd gotten it right. Too much attention, and he was caught like a fly in amber, and unknown men? Harmless strangers? They didn't do that.
Of course, whatever she expected him to say? It wasn't what he actually said. Casually, she raised another brow and regarded him across crowded space. That look of his? She didn't like it, and she wasn't even certain why. All she knew? Was that the bar suddenly seemed too small, too crowded, and she straightened when he reached for her neck.
Enhanced, and she was fast. It was possibly lucky for her, but even luckier for her staff, her patrons. When she spoke again, her voice was low, quiet and dangerous. "Not here. Get out," in perfect English, only a hint of New Jersey accent behind the O. And then she softened again, smiled lush and warm, the welcoming proprietress once more. "Next time? You can ask to see me somewhere private."