Helena looked at the man next to her. He looked like he belonged in a bar, like the type of men who had been angry when she had kissed Jesse Towing. But he did not seem like someone whose bones she would need to break.
The bartender came back with two cocktail glasses. One was pink, the other green. Helena sniffed them. "Thank you, I will have more," she said, because the bartender had brought them after all. Helena drank one and looked over at the man with the cigar. She slid the green one over to him, because he was nice.