Simon lifted his drink off the bar in preparation for the fallout of a collision, but thankfully Bree and the tray failed to make each other's acquaintance. He'd drink to that, and he did - a small sip - though he left the glass at his lips when brought up guilt. He glanced aside, took a deeper drink, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Sounds about right," he mused, looking up at her with a small, distant smile, "but if that's the case, what guilt might you be running from coming to a place like this?"