At least they'd be out of the cold night air, away from their old school territory-- and any associated memories-- and they'd have decent alcohol available to them, Bif supposed.
He ignored Tad's comment about Shale, opting instead for the kind of civil-but-cold demeanor he usually used when dealing with those beneath him.
"It sounds wonderful," he said. Not without sincerity, either: he appreciated a good martini every now and then, but right at this moment, the only thing he could contemplate drinking was whiskey. Straight.
He wasn't warming to Tad, and was still suspicious of him. While part of him yearned for the juicy details, for knowledge of the nature of whatever was going on between him and Derby, and while he quite honestly wanted to throttle Tad for the debacle at the speech, he suspected all that would come in good time. For the moment, they could at least enjoy a drink together, and Bif could, for the first time since his return, get a look at what his hometown had become.
"Shall I summon my driver, or would you prefer a cab?" he asked casually.