"No way... Is this guy really that high-profile? Coming to a bar to drown his sorrows and he brought bodyguards?"
"Who knows."
...
Corley intentionally had his two bodyguards stand a little closer, finally granting him some peace and quiet.
He poured himself another glass of whiskey.
But instead of downing it like he did last night, he sipped it slowly, his face a mask of indifference that gave nothing away.
Suddenly, his gaze froze, landing on a booth not far away.
Damn!
Teague sensed the scrutiny and looked over, unexpectedly locking eyes with his son.
For a moment, the air was thick with tension.
Both father and son quickly looked away.
Corley thought for a second, grabbed his bottle, and sauntered over to Teague's booth, plopping down next to his old man.
"Hey, out for a drink, are we?"
Teague gave him a sideways glance, "What kind of question is that?"
Come to a bar and not drink? What else do you do, watch a movie?
"And you—" Teague's eyes narrowed as he took in his son, then glanced at the half-empty bottle in Corley's hand. "What's this about? Weren't you on some no-smoking, no-drinking kick?"
About six months ago, Corley had suddenly sworn off cigarettes and booze. Teague had thought he was joking at first.
But then, seeing his son follow through and actually stay sober, Teague was a bit surprised.
And now, here he was, back to his old ways.
Corley smirked, "If no one cares, why bother?"
Teague raised an eyebrow, catching the drift of his words. "Got dumped, did you?"
Who knows a son better than his own father?
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