Constance found herself well and thoroughly caught between the guidance of her mentor, who she admired more than any other woman she had met, who helped her believe in herself and the fact that she could make a difference; and the gut feeling that while Veronika was hiding more than just her country of origin and true sex she wasn't actively spying on the US for Russian intelligence. For one thing, being a 'decadent Hollywood girl' wasn't exactly the best place to pick up intel; well unless she became a plaything for one of the directors; but<em>he</em>couldn't do that considering the transformation hadn't been completed back in Russia. Still, some things just weren't adding up, like why a man with the type of power and influence the spy had possessed would give it all up to come be eye candy on a Hollywood set.<br/><br/>Unless being a starlet, lovely and blond and slim and perfect, was truly what the Russian wanted.<br/><br/>The slip up of which state the blond was suppose to be from dragged her out of the moral conflict, a slight tensing of her eyes noting the shift. No, the spy was slipping up, which meant that she was doing her job well. And this might just be her big break, her chance to prove to everyone at the SSR that she had just as much value as Peggy, that her mentor wasn't the exception to the rule, just the trail blazer. Like she would be.<br/><br/>It was surprisingly easy to laugh at the dramatic upset Veronika displayed for the notion of a strong, handsome man who would seep her off her feet. The laughter was only partially suppressed, hidden behind her hand as she tried to control herself. "I suppose sausage fingers would be one way to put it...." And she had experienced her fair share of that both on the set and in the office of her actual job. As if she were nothing but a token to appease Peggy, and eye candy at that.<br/><br/>The redhead found herself blinking in surprise when the Russian lay a soft hand over her own, speaking so earnestly that she would find a prince one day. There, beneath the girlish affections Veronika sometimes over did was an intense, fierce passion, and having it directed at her made her aware why Norman Khramov had been so dangerous in some ways. "I... have no intention to settle down like that. I'm more than what a man would make me." Though Peggy had spoken about how a man didn't negate a woman's strength, that the right male could compliment it. Like Captain America. Or Sousa. But there weren't many men like that in the world, she knew that from her part in the war. The only reason she had come to Peggy's attention was her daring flight paths and the fact that when her plane had been shot down within German occupied France she had managed to land and blend in with the locals so well no one knew who the Allied pilot was. If she could fool Nazi's for weeks and pass along information in coded letters while being hunted surely she could prove she belonged in the LA division of the SSR.<br/><br/>"There is more to life than belonging to a man you know...." Connie trailed off mid sentence as the familiar, if not welcomed, sound of Trevor Hoyt's voice broke through the air. Instinctively she turned toward him, a smile on her lips that would have fooled most people into thinking he was a long lost friend while her bright eyes glinted with a silent rebuke to shut the hell up.<br/><br/>Being assigned to the man as a partner had been a curse; he was a by the book tight ass who never wanted to do anything that would ruffle Captain Folsom which was ridiculous. If Sousa was still the Captain here it would be different. But instead she was stuck with the only other person in the SSR who was as marginally accepted as she, a black man who had served with honors in the war but wanted to prove himself so badly he would never do anything unless the Captain signed off. In other words a dead weight. "Mr. Hoyt." The look he gave her was enough for her to know he wanted nothing more than to drag her out of the diner, but she was a white woman and he a colored man who was pressing his luck coming in here for all that California was far more progressive than other states.<br/><br/>When a rather large man who looked like he would be comfortable with heavy machinery came to their part of the counter the redhead widened her smile and then her eyes to go with the look of confusion. Just as he hadn't given up her cover yet, she wasn't going to let him get tossed out of the diner just because he had acted out of frustration. Besides, if he owed her a little then perhaps he wouldn't go bleating to the Captain.<br/><br/>"Bothering us.... oh, no, no not at all. Mr. Hoyt is a good friend, and one of the best driver's to be had." Trevor would likely be furious with her later for that, but by implying that he served her it allowed her privilege of fair skin to extend to him. Hopefully he realized that, the hot head. It wasn't fair that he was so damn handsome, not that she had ever vocalized that particular opinion to anyone outside of her cat.<br/><br/>With an exaggerated glance at the clock on the wall she gave a little gasp, acting every bit the flighty woman Trevor no doubt thought her. "Oh, I totally lost track of time, I do suppose we will be late now. I didn't mean to worry you." slipping off the stool she withdrew the change to pay for her milkshake and tip, giving Veronika a hug, "Forgive me? I must run, we'll catch up again soon, yes?" Because handsome or ill tempered, there was nothing Trevor could do to get her to give up the task set for her. Perhaps he was worried about impressing Folsom, she was more concerned with Peggy Carter and the men who had the wisdom to listen to her.