Fifteen minutes and two cab-rides later, Lucella found herself walking down the sidewalk two blocks away from the aforementioned diner. She was once again happily dressed down in a pair of artfully faded blue jeans and a tight-fitted, emerald-green shirt, the v-neck collar resting just below the dip in her collarbone- he wanted to play games with her, fine; she'd give him something worth playing for. Her hair was loose and tumbled down her shoulders in soft auburn ringlets. At her feet she wore sturdy black leather boots, and she walked at an average pace, but with purpose. She stepped up to the diner and pulled open the door. The smells of coffee and warm grease washed over her, and she stepped inside.