Clint's mind drifted, not really giving a shite about England. Marcus would complain about any team and he was sure England would do fine. Which, really, should annoy him but he was irritated with France in general. and wasn't really all that fond of the team. Course, it could be because he'd rather be playing for England. Either way, he poured another drink and ignored Marcus. If he didn't have to talk about Bell than Clint wasn't getting into the whole wedding shite with the rest of them. It wasn't like he'd be included into any of that shit anyway. "Well," he said, stretching his legs out. "She'll be back and you two will straighten it out. Can't be that bad."
Glancing at Ade, he raised a brow, pouring his cousin a drink. Ade had been oddly tense and quiet the past few days and he knew it had something to do with Dobbs. They'd either had a fight or someone died. He wasn't sure which. "So," he said, raising a brow at Ade. "What's going on with you and Emma?" He took a drink. "You've been in a weird mood since you got back from Denmark. Everything okay?"
Three waitresses came over, giving them all sexy smiles and draping themselves along the back of their chairs. "Miles wanted us to tell you to smile and lighten up," the leggy blonde said, flirting with Marcus, tracing her finger along his beck. "And that there's a very interesting poker game going on upstairs."