Adelo? Rodelaide? / Open
The mood was good enough for Adelaide to pass right over his talk of "my lil woman" when normally the phrase made her prickle with irritation, and she drank down a good half of her drink before grinning at him. "Nobody pulls off a monkey suit better than you. And I'm not even saying that out of familial duty, you really do cut a sharp figure in that getup."
"It was a lot of 'Malibu baybreezes' for the ladies, and 'Rum-n-Cokes' for the fellas," she went on. "Oh and shots, but mixed shots. Hardly ever saw anybody knock back anything without a mixer. Except Tequila. Jims, you have to keep me away from the Tequila, alright? It makes me sing." He knew she'd always been bashful about singing unless her voice was half drowned out by the radio or his own, and she gave him a stern look. "I ain't singing."
Adelaide knew the place was great, was never really loathe to give herself credit where it was due, but hearing him say it was the icing on the cake. "Couldn't have done any of it without you and Sarge. I'm half in love with this damn bar," she decided aloud, running her hand over the smooth surface of it.