Since their departure for Tennessee had been postponed pending some crazy Powers That Be plan that she was privy to very few details of, Adelaide had been saying goodbye to the bar for a little bit longer than she'd anticipated. A lot of the time she would check in, schmooze a little, mix some drinks, throw some darts, and head on back to the loft relatively early.
She loved her bar, loved being known for it and having accomplished it, but she still wasn't exactly a 'bar party every night of the week' type. Anyway, there were still enough people that knew Rodeo and Cutter here that she afforded that 'respectful distance' especially since Sarge had started up fighting guards a little more often lately - it was something that she almost didn't notice since it had been her near-constant companion for a long time. So even on those nights when she decided to be part of the party, she wasn't exactly part of the party.
Adelaide smiled when Harlow jumped the bar, and she admired the easy way he interjected himself into things, made friends (and enemies) like it was nothing. She put on her best bartender air, slinging out a bottle for him competently. "Ciroc, for the current most controversial man of the apocalypse," she said, suspecting he would rather the bottle to himself. She wore a tailored plaid dress, black leggings, and of course her party shoes, looking every bit the stylish hostess, so far.
"Any backlash from that list of yours? I see your nose is in tact."