"What, do you think I'm made of money?" Chase replies, affronted and as if he's absolutely and totally scarred by the implication. He does have the inheritance at his disposal, seeing as his father didn't manage to completely screw him with that one last signature. He lifts his fingers to signal for another when the first is done. "Don't let it get to your head," he warns. "It's an end-of-the-world drink, not a congratulations-you're-hot drink."