The food arrived. Selina found that she’d lost her appetite. “Did you write down the address?” she asked coldly.
“I wrote it down. I’ve got it here someplace.” She began to rummage through her purse. When the quest failed, she closed her eyes and recited an address in one of Gotham’s trendy, transitional neighborhoods. “When I write something down, it’s as good as memorizing it. I never forget. Honest. Do you think it’s somebody trying to make contact with Catwoman? Is this how you usually do it? Should we go investi—?”
Words froze in Bonnie’s throat when she caught sight of Selina’s ice-cold eyes.
Selina rose from her chair. “You’ve gone too far,” she said. “This isn’t a game, and you’re not my partner.”
“I’m sorry, Selina,” Bonnie said quickly. “I didn’t mean— I won’t—“
But it was too late. Selina had vaulted over the flower boxes once again. She was putting distance between herself and the café as fast as her long, muscular legs would allow. The waiter saw her leave. He hurried over to the table with the check in case Bonnie thought she was going to do the same thing. Bonnie emptied her wallet and told him to keep the change as a tip. She was on the sidewalk as quickly as possible, but Selina was gone.
For the first ten blocks Selina was too mad to think. She’d gone another ten before she began to think clearly. Not that she liked any of the nattering thoughts swirling in her head like wasps. Everything was Bonnie’s fault for butting in where she didn’t belong. No, everything was Selina’s own fault, for thinking that she could let anyone inside her armor, for thinking that she could have a friend. She was Catwoman. That was enough. Catwoman didn’t trust anyone, didn’t need anyone—certainly not anyone like Bonnie.