I do not own the hunger games. Unfortantly.
The bell above the restaurant jingled. The rather loud click cracks if designer red stilettos made all the gentleman customers looked up. All except for one person. The raven headed, red dressed women slid her self into the booth. The male in across from didn't even bother to look up from the beer he was drinking. They both sat there what seemed like an eternity to the other dinners. The women then said.
"You know why I'm here correct Cato?"
The male just nodded.
" I knew I'd find you here, where else does Hollywood's most notorious playboy billionaire hang out besides a sketchy bar on the outskirts of town?"
"What do what Clove? We both knew that night was just a one time thing." Cato said, growing tired of the girl across from him skirting around the obvious topic ahead.
"We were both drunk, you were just another hook-up. You weren't anything, you should be glad I even bothered to remember you, much less you name."
"Look Cato," Clove said with a since of venom in her voice, "I hate you and you hate me, but we have to put that behind us. I want you to understand I expect nothing from you, money, help, etc, etc, I just felt seeing that it was yours you might want to know.
"Spit it out Clove, I don't have time for this," his focus had slid from a previous conquest to a possible new one. A skinny busty girl who had slid into a chair at the bar.
"I'm pregnant Cato."
Cato's eyes flew from the margarita drinking blonde to the brown eyed girl in front of him.
"Pregnant, as in with child? How could this happen?" Cato was a little freaked out for a moment, but it couldn't be his. He was Cato Bradley. He was Hollywood's it boy, he was always in the tabloids. He couldn't go from babes to babies.
"We'll Cato when a mommy and a daddy get very very drunk, they make a very big mistake..." Clove responded.
"I know I know I know... Why are you telling me this?"
"It's yours."
"Yeah right, prove it."
"I knew you'd say that Cato so I brought a paternity test." Clove pulled a milla folder out of her purse.
The contents contained the truth.
Cato Bradshaw was the father of the monster that was growing inside Clove.
"Uhhhhh..." He said intelligently.
"Okay then," Clove said after Cato had but two and two together.
Cato ordered another beer from the waiter, dank it all with a gulp put it down, whipped his mouth on his sleeve, and spoke.
"So can you, you know, handle it?" Implying that Clove should get an abortion.
"No, it's my child and it has the right to a good life, even if your the father." She got up to leave.
"Goodbye Cato." She walked to the door all eyes on her.
Cato just put his head on the table. What had he gotten himself into?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What the Heck am I suppose to do Marvel? I knocked up some chick!" Cato later said to his best friend Marvel. Cato had called Marvel the second Clove had left the bar. Cato was now sitting at his kitchen island while Marvel had moved into his fridge.
"Though luck Man, whose's the chick?
"Clove..."
"Who is that?"
"You know that chick I banged at Peeta's engagements party?"
"The fox with great legs?"
"Yup..."
" dude, what I have told you and told you... Did 10th grade health class teach you nothing?"
"Shut up. What am I going to do? She's keeping the baby. She doesn't want me in her or the baby's life. I just feel that the kid needs to know me. It's my flesh and blood."
"So in other words your screwed,"
Cato just put his head in his arms and sighed.
"Yes Marvel, Yes I am." Came his muffled reply.