In the end, flattery didn't get me what I really wanted.
His smile was flawlessly untouched, even if his thoughts were not nor was his heart. Beating at almost 100 MPH, Petyr Baelish was not impervious to the sickening wave of nostalgia that overcame him, the pulling of the strings on a heart he had made 100% sure to become stone cold without Catelyn Tully.
Too long, but will you really know, Cat?
"What could be more important than meeting the beautiful Catelyn Tully? Even the President wouldn't be quite that important. Unless he asked me to be his running mate, that is." Which wasn't the truth, because Petyr would then tell Mister President that he could do the job much better than he ever could.
A raise of his finger called the bartender over and he ordered scotch. Just seeing her at the bar like that, it made everything melt away, pushing his thoughts back to when they would be at a high class bar in New York, before the times when Catelyn's affections slowly became faded and focused on a Eddard Stark.
"Surely, an old friend can send a few gifts or so?" Petyr settled down on the seat besides her, his hand properly resting on his own thigh while his mind improperly thought of how much he wanted it elsewhere.