Natasha glances over the girl Cesare was eyeing, giving her a considering look. She had meant the comment flippantly; she hadn't considered he'd take it seriously. She doesn't really want to examine what similarities they might have.

"If we don't have at least some of the same plans, I feel sorry for the girl," she says, drawling out the words. There goes the respect. It was nice while it lasted, such as it is. "I think we'd both try to show her a good time."