Pathetic. That sort of response is pathetic, and Adrianna's disdain for the cry is well mapped on her face. She practically begs through one look to send a bullet straight through this guy's skull; if she were less celebratory, she might've allowed it.

Still. He came here for a reason, however stupid his moves so far have been. With an incline of the head which makes her second scowl, then make to shove Dane into a back room, she sighs. It's going to be one of those nights, isn't it?

Two glasses in hand, she slips into the back room, past the storage room, and into a small office. It's nothing fancy, which is to be expected since this isn't her primary haunt, but it's enough. A glass of whiskey's thunking against the desk she's soon circling. After that, she's reclining in the chair, kicking her feet up on the desk as she sips her own drink, watching him. Adrianna stays for as long as it takes to get Dane settled and behaving.

"So a crowbar, huh?"