A face from the past.

The evening was progressing pretty typically for a Friday night. Beth did her stage work, shmoozed at tables, gave a few lapdances. It was almost boring.
Around 9:30, Beth glided onto the floor after a stage set, scoping the bar. There was a guy sitting by himself at the far end. He seemed to be in his late twenties, with short, dark hair and an average build. Beth thought he must have just come in, and she had a soft spot for guys who came to the club alone. The guy was chatting with Kelly, the cute blonde bartender as she sauntered over.
"...here before, who's the best?" The guy's voice tugged something in Beth's mind, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Definitely Bailey. In fact, here she is now." Kelly smiled and pointed towards Beth,and she started her opening script.
"Hey baby! Are you new around here? I don't...." The words died in her mouth when the man turned.
Denny. She gasped. Denny gasped, too, and Kelly quickly found somewhere else to be.
"Holy..." she clapped a hand over her mouth. Dennis Hunt. Denny. No one calls him Dennis.
"Beth... wow. It's been a while." Denny smiled. Beth's mind was racing.
"Yeah..."
"Sorry... 'Bailey.'" He laughed.
"When...?" she didn't want to say it, but he just smiled.
"I got parole three weeks ago."
Denny had been her last boyfriend before Brian; the last in a long line of bad choices. He was cute, and he had had money. But he had acquired that money by selling coke, which hadn't bothered her at the time. They'd had fun together, and she'd enjoyed easy access to coke and ecstasy.
It hadn't lasted very long, and in hindsight, that was no surprise. When the cops busted Denny in a sting, she had managed to clean out his apartment of every single bit of incriminating evidence before they could get to it. They had sweated her, but ultimately had nothing on her they could make stick, and so Denny went away for much less than he could have. She hadn't stayed in contact with him, though. The incident had sobered her up, and she had kicked the habit. Staring at his face now, she wondered: Is he angry? Is he grateful? Does he want the stuff I got rid of? She didn't know what to tell him if it was the last one: she had flushed everything rather than get caught with it.
"Hey, relax." Denny's voice cut through her frantic thoughts. "I never got a chance to say thanks."
She let out a breath she had been holding. "You're welcome." She shook herself, and then gave him a big hug. She had to admit it was nice to see him, especially now that he had allayed her fears.
"We should catch up."
"I'd love to, but I gotta make my goal tonight." she laughed.
Denny laid two c-notes on the bar. "Sit down. I'll make it worth it... 'Bailey.'" Beth bit her lip. Just another customer.
They talked for a while, and Denny bought drinks at a steady pace, though she remembered he had a high tolerance. His time in prison had been unpleasant but manageable. He was certainly glad to be out, and he had had plenty of money hidden away from before that the cops never found. He had gotten work as an Uber driver to satisfy his PO, but didn't really need it.
"Can't really go back to work, not with the parole board up my ass, and besides... my contacts are all useless now."
"I'm sorry." Beth wasn't sure what she meant by that, that his old life of dealing **** wasn't available? God....he's still cute.
"You're still looking great, by the way." He made no secret about getting an eyeful, though he had certainly seen her naked and sweaty many times. She looked at the clock, shocked to see it was 10:30; They'd been talking for an hour? Denny stretched. "Do you want to get out of here, have a late dinner or something? Or just coffee?"