Upon Stella’s arrival, he slowly made his way to where she stood waiting. Anton had the good fortune of first seeing her in profile, appreciating how her yoga pants clearly accentuated her curvy bottom. He pictured Evangeline, and how she<i>always </i>preyed on his weakness of being a butt man. Of course, there was no way for Stella to know this, but still, he so enjoyed the curvature of a woman’s posterior. And another thing, whoever invented yoga pants should receive<i>at least </i>one Nobel Peace Prize.<br/><br/>“Yeah, I can imagine, Stella,” he stated. “I thought of you last night when I turned out the lights, wondering whether or not you missed him. And, well, by the sound of things, it would appear you surely did.” With neither cat in sight, Anton went on, “And really, he was no bother at all. With Lics around, I believe he’s more into her than getting into all kinds of mischief. Which reminds me, if you’re up for it, I’ll be more than happy to let Lics spend a night at your place. That way, Tesla can be the home team, so to speak. I highly doubt she’ll miss home or me one bit.”<br/><br/>He was sure with Stella’s voice within the apartment, Tesla would come trotting out at any given moment. As they waited, he answered, “I think a regular green salad of your choosing should suffice, with either ranch or blue cheese dressing.” Gazing at her, Anton needed to be clear. “Either dressing is key, as it’ll help in, uh, reducing any, um, damage from the spicy tiger prawns.” He looked at her with an innocent smile, well, as innocent as he was able to muster. Where were those confounded cats? he wondered. He might need to engage in an apartment recon soon.