Max meets the cheif

Sitting at the hotel's bar Max felt sick to her stomach, discreetly watching her target with the corner of her eye, Chief of Police, Paul Gibbons. He sat seven bar stools to her left drinking whiskey. She had seen him before in police press conferences and even in some of Logan's cables hacks. As far as she knew he was a decent enough man, hardly effective has Chief of Police considering the state the **** was in, but he was decent enough. Early fifties, as far as Max could figure, standing a little over six feet, he had a strong build of a man who was very muscular in his younger years.

Max sighed as Gibbons stood from his stool. Hating herself for what she was about to do. She took the drink she had been nursing for the last few minutes and turned to stand. As always her timing was impeccable and she ran directly into Gibbons broad chest her glass spilling the cold **** down her dress.

Max shuddered as the cool liquid spilled over her, running over her breasts and down her stomach.

"Sorry," Gibbons grunted, "I didn't see?" he paused midsentence. Like any man the sight of Max's chest soaking wet, the sheer fabric of her dress clinging painfully tight to her skin left him with a lack of words.

"It's okay," Max whispered, her hand coming up to cover herself, she squeezed her breasts together as if by accident. The sight of her groping herself causing him to let out a barely audible gasp.

The bartender was quick to hand Gibbons a towel, and he reach out to Max with it, stopping halfway when he realized that he was about to grope her in front of a crowd of onlookers. Instead he offered it to her.

"Here," he said, "I'm really sorry, let me buy you another drink."

Max padded herself down, making sure to take her time as she rubbed the towel over her curves. "Sure, Thank you." She said softly, giving him the best smile she could muster.

-

Gibbons had replaced her drink and had bought another of his own before leading Max away from the embarrassing amount of eyes that seemed to watching the two of them. He objected at first when Max asked him to join her at one of the booths but eventually caved to Max?s charm.

Max laughed at his jokes, smiled at him and did her best to flirt with the older man. A sultry glance, a brush of her hand over his, she laid it on thick, making sure he it would be impossible for him to ministered her intentions.

The drinks kept coming, the booze barely have any effect on Max but Gibbons was slowly beginning to show. Much to her surprise he really did seem like an honest cop, maybe one of the few remaining in the city, a decent man who loved his family.

Max smiled, watching he finished off another glass of the expensive whiskey he had been ordering. He was drunk enough to dull any moral compass he once had, and she doubted he would have any problems with the idea of joining her upstairs in her room.

But maybe she could turn this around on Simmons. Gibbons was the chief of police after all. Maybe she could confess to the truth, and if Gibbons really was the honest and decent man she thought he was he could help her get rid of Simmons once and for all.