She'd lifted an eyebrow in pleased surprise, hearing the response in her mother tongue. Interesting. Perhaps there was more to this wolf than just fleas and drool. And despite herself, she couldn't help but chuckle agreement to his observation regarding "new" automobiles.

"Well," she granted as he backed out of the parking spot, "at least I'm not all that tall." Petite and curvy, yes, but definitely not on the "jolly green giant" side, unlike her chauffeur.

"Chelsea," was her initial response to the query about directions, then added, "Greenwich Street, seven hundred block." An upper-modest studio apartment in a reputable, comfortable building; she didn't need all that much room, nor did she entertain guests or have company dropping in. Her life revolved around the job, enduring her family's never-ending (literally) disappointment and judgement over her professional choices, and staying away from any potential threats.

Such as friends, relationships, all those positive things that others craved so desperately.