Eve was warm laughter and the smell of beer and the faint touch of cigarette smoke -- packed close the way they were, like children playing games in the dark, his own cigarette curled upwards in the sticky air. No cheap brands here, it smelled expensive. Her head turned to follow, flushed with the heat of so many bodies, pleasure, beer -- and then the bartender was before her. An order, 'Just a bourbon, honey -- make it neat," drawled out in a lazy, seemingly amused voice that had the haze of too many cigarettes or just naturally low-pitched. There was an exchange of smiles, a look from the bartender that was presumably for clothes that looked like water thrown at her -- and then napkin wrapped around a glass, Eve's attention was scattered but that same expensive-smelling cigarette smoke drew it back.
"Sure you're in the right place, doll? Fancy drinks and cigarettes when the rest of us are drinking beer and whiskey," a teasing smile, a shake of the head. "I can direct you to a nice establishment a little more your kinda digs, if you'd like?" And relieve him of his money on the way -- no need to mention that, payment for the tour guide.