Dutch had absolutely no trouble at all waving the bartender down as she took a seat. He knew her, but even if she hadn’t she hardly ever had any trouble catching people’s attention. It was a curse and a blessing.

“Two straight bourbons.” She flashed a winning smile at the man behind the bar as he set to work, pouring their drinks. He slid two glasses over to Fet and Dutch and Dutch took a sip, raising her eyebrows in approval.

“I don’t usually get mixed drinks.” Dutch admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “I mean, I’m not all that picky, but...” She sighed.

“So, Fet,” She smiled at him. “What part of New York are you from?”