[The Cat: Nisha & Cat]
Cat abhorred Valentine's Day. In the past, the holiday had always involved wanting things she didn't have, and she'd always painted on a smile and pretended not to care. It was an old, old thing, her feelings about cupid's little annoying holiday. And this year? Well, this year she was in a relationship, but it was a relationship built atop a glass foundation, and Cat was always afraid she was going to step too hard and shatter the entire thing.
So, Valentine's Day? Not her thing.
And so she was working. Why not? Let the others take the day off and spend it with loved ones. Steve had people - plural. And she was still holding onto the hope that Claire would wake up one morning to realize she was in love with Helena. Anyway, Cat was working. Skintight denim and a ribbed tank in black, she had a black apron folded over and slung low on her hips and her heels were stiletto. Sweat dotted her brow, and it was warm inside the Johnny Cash-themed bar. The song playing was about rings of fire, and Cat was cleaning a glass thoughtlessly, rag in her hand and mossy eyes unfocused.
She was not daydreaming, because Cat didn't daydream. And she certainly wasn't thinking about her sister, wondering where she was. She wasn't stinging from the pinch of being left behind without a word, unimportant again. She wasn't worrying about Tethys coming through the door and taking her. She wasn't doing any of those things. Her lips were stained diva red to match her stilettos, and her eyes were cat-lined, and she blinked a few times and focused on the woman sipping her whiskey.
That Cat looked too young to own a bar? That was absolutely true, but there was age to those mossy eyes. And she didn't know this woman knew Eddie, and she didn't know this was the lawyer she'd heckled out of boredom. But, well, she would've had the same greeting regardless. She grinned. "Not many people smile into their whiskey on Valentine's Day - not when the neighboring barstool is empty."