It was a week before Diane returned to work; Joe had insisted she take more time off, but she told him she had to work, even if it was just serving drinks from behind the bar, which is what she was doing. The stitches that her sister Carla had put in, after swearing and cursing her for not going to a hospital, still pulled, but not enough to give Diane too much discomfort. The next day, she had an appointment at her sister's office to have the stitches removed. Having a pediatrician in the family had always been beneficial, but last week was the first time she'd used her sister for herself and not Devon.
"How ya feeling?" Joe asked as he took a moment to draw out a cigarette and light it.
Diane smiled. "I'm not doing too bad. A bit sore, but looking forward to tomorrow."
"Well, you know you can go home. Tate's got my permission to leave when you're ready. He'll drive you home and then come back here to finish his shift."
"Thanks Joe, but it's only a couple more hours. It's no big deal really. I'm fine." Diane squeezed her boss's arm and then went back to work. Serving drinks didn't make the tips that dancing did, so she did her best to keep her customers' glasses filled. The more they drank the more they left in the little bowl for her tips. Some were regulars and she was thankful for them, because they were still dropping bills into her pants when she'd walk by. With or without a dance they were supporting her.
"You don't look worse for wear."
Diane glanced at the owner of the voice and studied him closely. "Oh. . .hi," she whispered as she realized the man who had rescued her was now sitting at the bar.
"Hi to you. How are you? I'm surprised to see you here," Todd told her, then ordered a jack 'n coke.
She mixed up the beverage and set it in front of Todd. "No charge," she told him and he nodded his head in thanks. "It's my third day back. I had a week off after the... incident."
Todd lifted a brow. "An incident that could have gotten you killed. What were you doing walking home alone like that, in this neighborhood?"
Diane frowned. "I wasn't working my usual shift, other wise Tate, our bouncer," she nodded her head to the man in the corner, "would have walked me home. It was just bad luck," she said.
"I hope your luck isn't always that bad," Todd answered.
"It used to be, but all was going well there for a while, so bad luck was due to hit any day."
Todd chuckled. Diane smiled back and then told him she'd talk to him more later, but she had work to do. He agreed to hold her to her promise and watched as she walked away to wait on others. Diane felt his eyes on her and she blushed from the feeling. She handled the incoming flux of customers. It was a Friday night and the place was packed. Men and women were enjoying the sights and sounds that filled the smoky club.
Diane continued to glance from the dancers to the man that had rescued her. She found herself pleased that his gaze was often focused on someone or something besides Isis or Ginger's gyrating forms. Most often her eyes met his and she'd feel her skin grow more heated.
An hour had passed before Diane was able to make her way back to the man who was still nursing his first drink. She'd seen Joe talking to him, look her way and then continue talking. She'd wanted to find out what was being said, but knew she had to concentrate on her work and making the money up for the week she'd been off. "Not mixed right?" she asked as she looked at his drink.
"Nah. I'm just not much of a drinker," Todd replied.
"Then why order it?" she asked and took the drink away, to replace it with a soda. "Better?" she asked as she opened the bottle of coke-cola.
"Only if you share it with me and drinking helps me keep up the image of a hard ass," he said.
Diane laughed and pulled a glass from behind the bar. She poured the cold dark liquid into a tall glass, passed it to her customer and kept the remains for herself. "Cheers," she said and clicked the plastic container against his glassy one.
"To a long life of pure good luck," Todd said, stressing the "good" part of his toast.
"I'll definitely drink to that."
Diane and Todd sipped and talked, her alternating between serving her customers and paying attention to her hero. "You know, I don't know your name, but you know mine. That's a bit unfair, don't you think?"
Todd grinned and extended his hand. "Todd O'Brian, at your service."
Diane smiled back, took the offered appendage and shook it firmly. "Diane Westing."
Todd's brows rose and he studied her closely. "Westing?" he asked, rolling the name off his tongue. "Like in... Richard Westing? The lawyer?"
Diane sighed. "Yes, he's my ex-husband."
Todd almost choked on his drink. "Your ex-husband? What the fuck are you doing dancing on stage if you're the ex of the richest ass. . . I mean lawyer in the city?"
Diane snickered. "I see you know him?"