It had been a long couple of nights as she adjusted to her schedule working at the Cat's Meow as their latest bartender. As far as work goes there were certainly less enjoyable options, and she got to bring home her nightly tips to boot. For the first time in a good while she had a steady income, and while it wasn't what she might have made in a single night in her 'other' work before, this was definitely more consistent. It wasn't much, but she now had a decently stocked fridge and didn't have to worry about how she'd pay her rent. The hours suited her as well, she was fairly nocturnal already and the club didn't open until the evening and closed near the early hours of the morning. Everything just felt more alive at night. All in all things had been looking up for her.

Early in the evening as the sun already hung low in the autumn sky she stood in her bathroom, music blaring while she finished getting ready for her shift tonight. The majority of bartending successfully was in looks, a high percentage of the burlesque's customers were men and a glimpse of her navel and a well-placed wink went far in increasing the tips that went into her jar. Her blonde hair was piled up high on her head, golden curls hanging down so it was out of her face but still appealing;, a black crop top, dark jeans that hugged her body and a smattering of silvery jewelry completed the look. She was just finishing spreading metallic gray shadow over her dark lined eyes when she heard the knock on her door. The music was so loud most might have missed the hollow sound, but sensitive hearing came with the territory for most Weres.

She was a bit surprised seeing as she didn't have any visitors... ever, and for a moment she wondered if it might be her former neighbor Ivan King who had seemingly vanished into the night a few weeks ago. Turning the music down she stepped lithely into the living room, running her hand down the back of the gray tabby cat that was comfortably draped across the back of raggedy armchair, "You having some friends over?" she questioned her fellow feline with a smile dancing on her glossed lips. Peeking through the door peephole surprise painted her features to see the recognizable form of Frost perched on the wall opposite her door. Two questions raced through her mind, firstly how did he know where she lived and secondly why in God's name would he come here?

Carefully she wipes the surprise from her face before she opened the door, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had surprised her; no doubt he expected to have the high ground with the element of surprise on his side. Sliding the lock she opened the door enough so that her slender form filled the frame, hand on one hip that was cocked lazily to the side as her hazel eyes sought his own beneath the tangle of white man he called hair. They sized each other up for a moment, a slight smile crooking the corners of her lips as he spoke. "Not at all, I thought I might see you before too long," she said easily, knowing and hoping he would chew on that for a moment.

Stepping back she opened the door further to allow him to enter if he liked, unless they were to talk out in the hall like teenagers in a co-ed dorm. She watched the graceful sway of his form as he walked inside, he was slender but there she always got the sense of underlying strength from his movements. His shifted from was an equine of some kind, of that she was sure, which made the strength make sense and his rather proud, self-assured nature. She knew of at least one pack who gathered in the west side of the city, but she wouldn't be surprised if Frost had or was starting another; he didn't seem the type to take orders from anyone. Closing the door behind them she made her way to the kitchen counter, leaning back against the cool countertop with both arms.

No doubt this was meager living by his standards, but the apartment was cozy and did the job fine. She had furnished it in a shabby-chic sort of fashion, mostly thanks to thrift stores and goodwill , a look which some would probably pay a pretty penny to some interior designer to achieve. Despite her calm demeanor curiosity lit up her blue green eyes. "And what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked finally, one manicured eyebrow raising as her lilting southern accent filled the loft space, "I have to be at the bar in an hour." Curiosity killed the cat, after all.