Tristan could see the disappointment - no more than that - in the man's face. Wrong answer. He began to feel awkward again. The alcohol in his system was enough to loosen him up a little, not to efface self-awareness, of which Tristan generally had a lot. He looked at his glass. It was empty now. He could run.

If only he could come up with a polite excuse to leave.

Good moment for his brain to shut down.