“I think that’s for the best,” Kat murmured after Diego promised not to doubt her word again. She smirked as she took another bite of her massive burrito, chewing for a while and allowing Diego a chance to express that he wasn’t surprised by the idea that she was someone who got what she wanted, no matter the cost. Well, he had one thing right. She could pay for nearly anything she wanted. But when people were used to being paid, the relationship would always revolve around money.<br/><br/>Who was she kidding? To Kat, everything concerned money. Money was what made the whole world go around. She should have realized that sooner when it came to Chase. Once he no longer needed her, why did she expect him to stay? Of course he would want to break up and move on to some gaggle of new, exotic women.<br/><br/>As she was swallowing down a pretty large bite, she blinked at Diego’s words. He made it sound like it was obvious that he would be nervous to pretend to be her date all night, even though it was just pretend. But then he added in something about how he would have been a nervous wreck had it been a regular date between them, but all the more with added pressure, photographers and the works, the likes of which he could only fathom at that point.<br/><br/>She took a long swig from her tall water bottle to help wash down the enormous bite of burrito, and during that time, Diego asked about the gala and what exactly he should be expecting out of it. “Well, gala’s are all the same.” She said again, flatly. “You arrive on a red carpet, everyone gets photographed by paparazzi and professionals alike. You make your way inside, usually it’s a ballroom, sometimes it’s one of those huge outdoor tents.” She spoke as if he would know exactly what she meant.<br/><br/>“Once inside, you have a little time before dinner, so most people walk around and rub shoulders or network, if you can.” Her eyes suddenly narrowed on him. “You are not allowed to network for your chauffeur business, by the way. Not unless you can get your hands on an unmarked Lincoln with tinted windows.” She took a breath and carried on. “Anyway, after some schmoozing, people find their seats and have an elegant four course meal. During dinner, there are typically some speeches being made about the fundraiser, what their monetary goals are for the night, et cetera.”<br/><br/>Kat looked bored as she spoke about it. “After dinner, there is usually some sort of event that takes place where people can raise said money. Sometimes there is an auction of sorts, other times there are things to bid on, like services that local businesses can provide to you or to your business. Sometimes there are performances involved, or little games to play, or even food and alcohol to purchase. All of the proceeds go to the fundraiser.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Usually these fundraisers are for those hospitals that treat kids who have terminal illnesses or animal shelters that euthanize the animals who don’t get chosen.”<br/><br/>She perked her brows. “Maybe that makes all of us rich yuppies seem like really good people with bleeding hearts, but honestly, people only do it to get it on their record. That way, when someone interviews them or writes an article about them or their business, they can add that bit in. Mr. Rich Man donated a thousand dollars to help cure childhood cancer. Let’s all applaud for his selflessness and generosity.” She rolled her eyes lightly. There may have been more to that story, but Kat wasn’t really sharing anything else on her own. She held up her burrito again, about to take a bite, before she remembered a pressing question of her own.<br/><br/>“What did you mean about being nervous if this were a date?” She tilted her head to the side. “You mean, with anyone, or specifically with me?” Kat decided to ask the bold question, having learned a long time ago that it was better to jump right to the point and not beat around any proverbial bushes.