If Mary was embarrassed before now she was downright mortified. Of course it didn't ring any bells, if she couldn't remember who she was then she certainly wasn't going to remember sleeping with him. Someone else did, though, and that voice wasn't shutting up about it. Mary's wide eyes closed and she took a few deep breaths, trying to fight it. "Look, I don't-" she began and then paused, turning away and dropping her face against her arms on the bar. She struggled, she railed against it, but this wasn't a fight she was going to win. When she glanced up again a change had come over her, both physically and in her demeanor. In the dusky light of the bar her hair seemed to be a shade darker, half of her face looked strangely pale. There was a cruel twist to the smirk that she turned on him as she lifted her chin and surveyed him with raised brows, like a carnivore eying a piece of bloodied meat. Typhoid remembered Calvin very well.
"Well hey there, handsome," she drawled. "Been awhile. How about you buy a girl a drink. I think it's been a long time coming." They'd talked about this, back when they were locked up, things they'd do if they ever got out. He owed her at least a few drinks.