Caleb didn't always have the good sense to appreciate just how instinctive his sense of manipulation was. It came from having the company of Camila Flint his entire life, who was perhaps the only person he would be willing to call more clever than him - and he'd never say it in front of her. Their favorite pastime growing up had been mind games as they honed their abilities to get what they wanted, and it made getting what he wanted almost second nature. It was why he often grew so tired of people. It was hard to enjoy a game of chess when you knew you were winning three moves in.
Katherine had proved more challenging, certainly, because there was no baseline for him to judge off of anymore. But simply knowing that her new confidence was untested had been all he needed to unravel her. Because he had no interest in begging her for scraps of understanding. Not when one poke at an obvious insecurity (one, in all fairness, he could fully empathize with) could incense her to release nuggets of truth that she would have otherwise withheld. He knew the catharsis of telling him off would tickle her, but he wasn't done with her yet.
She stormed off and the bartender glanced his way with a sympathetic look. It was only then that Caleb unrolled his smile, a wide, pleased thing that certainly didn't match that body language of the retreating blonde. He finished his drink, flicked a galleon towards the bartender, and turned on his heel.
He landed right outside the club, leaning against the corner of the building, a knowing smile on his face. He was barely in the edge of the light of a streetlight, almost guaranteeing that she would pass by him unless he spoke up. So as she approached, he lifted a finger to his lips and bit at the fingernail, almost bored looking in his slumped posture.
"You know," he said, rolling his eyes towards her to catch whatever look he had earned - would it be surprise, hatred, disgust? "When I really don't give a shit about someone's opinion, I hardly get defensive." He knew he was toeing the line now. Too much and he'd push her past her need to prove him wrong and she'd give up entirely.
"But you're right about a few things - I'm a big enough man to admit when someone is right, and I think it's only fair to own up to it." He pushed off the wall and pushed his hands into his pockets, ambling in a semi-circle around her, eyes casually tracing outlines in the dark, not looking at her so he could drive his point home when he wanted to. "You're right that no one really bothered with the dying girl. Especially pretentious lads like me who's leading factor in interacting with women is securing a lady who could produce an heir. It's pretty poor manners, and certainly not fair, but I'm sure you've figured out that whole trip about life not being fair anyway."
He tilted his head as he kicked a small pebble out of his bath, pressing on. "And you're right to suggest that not everyone noticed. In fact, you'd probably be right to say it might have only been me. Which is why it certainly is lucky that our peers are far less cleverer than they fancy themselves to be. And that my peers are more excited about catching the bad guy than dissecting the motive."
He stopped, craning his head to look upwards in the sky, wishing the stars were more visible. It'd add to the drama. "And you're right that I really do have no idea what you did to turn your luck around. I won't take that from you."
He finally looked at her, and an almost devilish grin stretched across his lips. "So now let's talk about where you're wrong."
He turned on his heel, continuing his lazy circle around her. "You might not need me to do what you want, but you certainly want me to know what you do. Last night, you offered me an invitation. There's no other word for it. And I'm a clever businessman, Katherine. Surely you'd know that a salesman doesn't take a product at face value. So, excuse me that I'm not falling over with just how impressed I am that you organized a mass party-crash."
He shrugged. "And pissing off the girl with nothing to lose? You act like that's not a good plan." He tilted his head, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Some people like to light fires. Others like to hand gasoline to arsonists. I wouldn't knock it 'til you try it. And you should know, particularly after your little rendezvous with Romanyk, that you shouldn't trust yourself with a wager. Because I wager, if however Luke did this is just slightly less boring than what the average man might guess, I'd still be here. Playing our fun little game." Cue smirk to dig in deep.
"And I think we both know that while the show might not be the intention, you're enjoying adding a little bit of flair to this battle plan. Maybe not for me benefit specifically, but I'm enjoying it all the same."
He stopped in front of her, planting firmly and looking straight into her eyes. "And for the last, where you're wrong and my wrong have some overlap. Forgettable? Yes. Yes, indeed. But you might have missed the condition, in all your offense. Forgettable. Until. Now." He leaned back a bit, having leaned towards her for effect, robbing her ever-so-slightly of her personal space. "And you can be offended that I didn't notice the dying girl, but I think part of you gets why I didn't. I'm paying attention now, but if you want to bore me with unearned pride, I'll save myself the trouble. But if you're involved in something that does warrant this self righteousness, lay it on me, love." A wry smirk twisted at his lips, his eyes narrowing in dangerously.
"If you can surprise me, I just might worship you."