"On it," he called back, weaving through the patrons to appear at Cressida's shoulder, which he threw his arm around. "Glad you could make it," he told her cheerfully, raising his voice a little so that she could hear him. "Let me buy the birthday girl a drink."
Drake led Cressida to the bar and motioned for the bartender, who shot him an exasperated look. "What?" he asked, adopting an innocent expression. "She drinks." He paused and looked at his companion. "You do, right?"