Lia's youth hadn't been misspent, but it certainly had been versatile - so she didn't have to be told twice. In an instant, she was on her feet, maneuvering around the impromptu battle ground with more skill than was likely fair. Reaching into her purse, she withdrew a fifty and put it on the table in apology. It wouldn't cover all the damage, but it was definitely more than their drinks and tobacco. With that, she followed Vince, stepping over their uninvited guest, possibly digging a sharp stiletto into his calf on her way out.
Without so much as a glance behind them, she came up to Vince and took a look at him as they walked. "Nicely done, Vincent Alexander," she told him, looping her arm through his. "Thanks for defending my honor," she told him with a little smile.
Unfortunately, the man wasn't put down quite so easily. Even as they walked away from him, he lumbered to his feet, shook his head, and took off after them, launching himself at Vince even as his arm was wrapped around Lia's waist.
For her part, it was, perhaps, a miracle (or perhaps thanks to years of yoga and dance) that she managed to stay on her feet - beside wearing stilettos of an impressive height, she'd had a number of drinks before they'd come out to the bar, and so was well into territory where balance was not to be taken for granted.
Fortunately, she did manage to stay on her feet, and even to kick out at their assailant, catching him in the back of the leg before he reached out and shoved her down to the pavement, scraping her palms, the insides of her forearms, and her elbows.