“Who’s making a scene? I’m not making a scene,” she proclaimed just a bit too loudly. “You’re the one who’s making a scene.<i>I’m</i>asking a question that<i>you</i>apparently just don’t want to answer.”<br/><br/>She lifted her glass to her lips and took another drink before leaning closer to him. “I’m not playing journalist. Consider it off the record, just a woman asking a man a simple question. Besides,” she grinned after another mouthful of tequila, “if I take you home to that boat you live on, who’s to say I won’t just push you overboard before that shouting match you seem to want?”  Claire lifted her glass in a little salute to him before taking yet another swallow. It was good tequila and it was going down easily.<br/><br/>Despite that, she waved off the bartender’s question of another one and signaled for the check. Two tequilas was enough for now. Any more and she knew she’d be flirting with being drunk instead of very tipsy. Mr. Mark Windham didn’t need any ammunition to fire her way and accuse her of being a drunk too. Claire added a healthy tip to the correct line, managed to do the math correctly, then scribbled an approximation of her signature at the bottom. “Want me to leave her your number?” she stage whispered in his general direction before snickering at her own joke.<br/><br/>After gathering up her belongings, she gestured grandly toward the door. “Well come on then, Princess. Let’s get you home before your carriage turns into a pumpkin.”  And with that, she headed toward the door, walking in a most nonlinear path as she tried to keep her balance.