Tracey just gave him a look. "Can we please skip over the annoying idle chit chat? There is alcohol in this pub and I'd like to drink some of it now. You can tell me about your conquests and I can judge the poor girl who is foolish enough to think they are good enough to capture your attention for more than a night." Generally speaking, Tracey had very little respect for groupies. They seemed to all be convinced that one trip into their knickers would find them with a ring on their finger or some rubbish. It was an absurd thought. But at least there were people in the world worse off than she was.
"Or we can talk about how really, really messed up it is that Clint is going to be a father."