If she didn't feel quiet so dead to the world, Gene would never have dared to take such a thing from a patron. However, right now, she needed one. "A drink on the house for you, for this." It seemed a fair trade. She also, after another moment's though, pulled out a chair across from him and lowered herself into it. Her legs naturally crossed, though she took care to tuck her skirt around her legs and not show too much skin, even if her ripped stockings were doing the job in several areas already. Damned lack of nylon, even her fishnets were looking old and worn.
"Marie-Pierre, correct? I remember you from the other day." Apparently, even tired, the woman rarely forgot a face. But then, such intelligence was reflected rather sharply in her arctic blue eyes that now surveyed the scruffily handsome plain of his face.