SEVENTH CIRCLE CLOSED AT 5 A.M., AND ELIZA PUNCHED her card and walked through the empty club to the staff rooms in the back. The fight with Mara had rattled her. Not only had she gotten yelled at by her bosses, since she'd barely gotten Mara down from the table before the health inspector saw what was going on, but her new shoes were ruined, and unlike Mara, she didn't have several free pairs waiting at home. She felt tired and defeated and a little resentful. How was it that she --Eliza Thompson, who used to run rampant through a slew of Manhattan nightclubs--was now the one who was dead sober at the end of the evening, with puke-covered shoes, no less?
She slid her feet from the mottled suede heels and put on a pair of flip-flops and a bulky Princeton sweatshirt that was as long as her skirt. The bar backs were hosing down the bar and the night porter had arrived to clear the garbage. She said good-bye to Milly, the coat-check girl, and split her tips with the three waitresses. They'd had a decent evening because Eliza had decided that names
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could magically appear on the list with the help of a hundred-dollar bribe. She had to supplement her meager income somehow.
"You're still here?" she asked, seeing Ryan Perry sitting alone by the bar.
He nodded. "What do you mean? I never leave," he joked. "Nah. I was waiting for you. Just wanted to make sure you get home safe."
"That's sweet," she said. She was glad they still had that easy connection and that their friendship was just the same as it was before.
"Want a drink? You look like you need one," Ryan offered.
"I'm the one who works here, remember? Johnnie? Could we have one for the road?" The bar back nodded and provided them with two glasses of whiskey.
"None for me, thanks," Ryan said.
"Well, then--I'll have yours too. Shame to let it go to waste," Eliza smiled, sipping her glass. "God, what was up with Mara tonight?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Ryan said, tapping his knuckles on the counter.
"Me either," Eliza said, raising her glass in a mock salute.
"I'll drive you home," he offered, when Eliza finished off the second tumbler.
"But--my car."
Eliza motioned to her Jetta parked in the lot.
"I'll have Laurie send someone out to get it tomorrow," Ryan told her.
They drove with the top down on Ryan's car, and Eliza found herself telling him about how her job at Seventh Circle wasn't
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everything she'd thought it would be. She shook out a cigarette from her pack and lit it. "Want one?" she asked him. Ryan shook his head, then thought better of it. Eliza helped him light his cigarette, cupping it against the wind.
"Thanks," Ryan said, talking from the side of his mouth as he steered the car to the highway.
Eliza exhaled a huge plume of smoke. "And Jeremy hasn't even called me in two weeks," she complained. "I have no idea what's going on between us. He tells me he missed me all year, but then he like, drops off the face of the earth."
Ryan nodded in sympathy. Eliza put her bare feet up on the dashboard, feeling more relaxed and comfortable than she had in a long time. "So what's going on with you and Allison?" she asked.
"Not much." He shrugged. "I think she's into me, but we're just friends."
"Dude, everyone likes you," Eliza emphasized. "That's so not news."
He laughed and tapped the ashes from his cigarette in the wind. "I wish."
"Mara and Garrett look pretty cozy, huh?" Eliza noted, not to be mean, but just as an observation. "They're at the club together almost every night."
"I guess," Ryan shrugged. "She's different now."
When they arrived in front of Eliza's house, she hesitated before getting out of the car. "You want to maybe come in for a
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