"Yes, really," Angelina said, wrapping both hands around her beer bottle when the bartender deposited it in front of her. She took a long swig, then set it back down in front of her. "And you're slowly killing yourself. Filling your lungs with all sorts of poisons and toxins." She gave him a wry smile when he said it was better than some things and tipped her beer to him before taking another drink. "Pick your poison, I suppose," she said, "But I really hate smoking."
She considered him for a moment, eyebrow arched, and since he didn't extend his hand she didn't extend hers, either. "Angelina," she said, a little less icy than before. "It's been a rough week, sorry if I'm a little bitchy." A loose tendril of hair snaked down and she reached up to redo her ponytail. "So, what do you do, Eddie?"