Maggie doesn't come here often. He can tell. Her footing, while wide-stepped and confident in the diner, or another otherwise familiar place, is now cautious, with slow steps. and quiet, as though she doesn't want to be noticed. Her eyes dart around and she stays by the door. She's looking for something, Burke notices, and she's ready to grab her target and go.
It doesn't look like it's going to be that easy for her. Maggie takes a few unsure steps into the Blue Whale and tries to navigate her way through the myriad of dancing bodies in the midst of the smoky room. She's looking more uncomfortable by the second, and rather than watch her grin and bear it, Burke calls her over.
She looks in his direction and immediately looks that much better. She's able to make her way to him with little trouble, and she takes the seat he pulls out for her.
"I can't tell you how glad I am you're here, Burke," she says. The relief is obvious in her voice and he chuckles.
"I saw you walk in," he explains. "Now, what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"
Burke takes a drink as Maggie rolls her eyes, presumably at his comment, but it doesn't matter. He knows he's charismatic enough to spare a few cliché one-liners.
She says, "I'm looking for Pop."
"Old Sam? he's not at home?"
Maggie shakes her head and shrugs. "I figured my best bet was to look here."
"He should be glad he's got someone like you to dote on him. I know I wouldn't run off on you if I had that." He watches Maggie's face redden slightly and she tries not to laugh, and with a smirk, Burke's waving the bartender over. "I'll have another," he tells him. Then he turns to Maggie, looking at her as though sizing her up. "And a sherry for the lady."
"Burke! I really don't need -" Maggie tries to dissuade him, but the bartender's already gone, and Burke holds up a hand to stop her.
"I won't take no for an answer. Relax and keep me company while we wait for your father to turn up."
She relents and thanks him after the drinks come, and he explains that he's waiting for someone, as well: Roger Collins. Maggie figures the appropriate thing to do to pass the time is to propose a toast, and Burke insists that it be to loyalty, or punctuality, or something else completely pointless that he won't remember come the next day. It's unimportant; the main goal is to make Maggie relax and laugh, and it seems to be working.
At least, until it doesn't.
She downs the rest of her sherry and sets the glass on the table with a frown.
"Burke, where's Pop?"
He shrugs. He reaches across the table to grab her glass and set it aside, next to his, before he lights up a cigarette. "Dunno. I haven't seen him."
"Then why -" Maggie cuts herself off, the shock, confusion, and annoyance all mixing together on her face in a way that Burke thinks only she can wear.
"It got you to sit with me, didn't it?" he asks with another smirk. "I can entertain you, if you'd let me."