Chapter 144
The awkward drinking session got a bit lighter when Timothy rolled
- in.
After some small talk, Shirley ordered the server to pour the drinks. But when it was my turn, Timothy put the kibosh on it.
“Xavierȧ is still nursing a foot injury, better stick to juice,” he said, giving the server the eye. Casual as he was, there was an
unspoken assertiveness in his actions.
Obviously, I couldn’t just opt–out. With bigwigs like Hogan and Shirley around, I wasn’t in a position to stay dry.
Before I could object, Shirley chimed in, “Mr. Temple, aren’t you a bit too caring for Ms. March? I’ve never seen you so attentive to any girl before.”
After that, her eyes darted towards me, loaded with insinuation.
Timothy, all grins, looked at me and said, “Speaking of which, the reason Xaviera can’t drink is all President Stapleton’s fault, so quit stirring the pot.”
His careless tone paired with that seemingly innocent face made it hard for anyone to fault him. Shirley seemed a bit thrown off, waving her hand and saying, “Alright, alright, my bad. I’ll take a penalty drink, okay?”
As she spoke, she already had her glass in hand.
I was about to intervene when Timothy said, “It’s just a joke. Don’t take it seriously, President Stapleton.”
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Shirley rolled her eyes at Timothy, teasing, “So you’re picking on me. on purpose. Mr. Zade, Look, I make one little comment about Ms. March, and Mr. Temple jumps to her defense with ten.”
Her playful tone seemed to be flirting with Hogan.
Hogan, who had been silent, glanced at me and said flatly, “We owe President Stapleton for her hospitality at Pinecrest Hollow. Ms. March, you should show your gratitude.”
It seemed Hogan was hinting for me to toast Shirley, probably because Timothy had just undercut her.
Logically, as a mere project manager visiting the company, it made sense for me to toast the boss. But coming from Hogan, it turned into more of an order. Plus, he knew about my ankle injury.
Although the swelling had gone down a bit after a good night’s sleep, it was still a sprain, and staying away from alcohol was the
wise choice.
It was infuriating. Annoyed as I was, I still picked up my glass,
“President Stapleton, I owe you one for the Pinecrest Hollow trip, so here’s to you.”
I hadn’t even brought the glass to my lips when Timothy snatched it
away.
“Why won’t you listen, Xaviera?” He said, exasperated, glancing at Shirley, “Here, I’ll drink this one for her.”
No sooner had he said this than he tipped his head back and downed it. He shook the empty glass and said coolly, “How’s that for sincerity?”
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Shirley forced a laugh, “Oh, Mr. Temple, it’s not like we’re ganging up on Ms. March.”
Timothy suddenly turned to Hogan and asked, “What do you think, Mr. Zade?”
At that, my heart skipped a beat. I looked over to see Timothy smiling playfully at Hogan, who was giving him a stern look. The two seemed to clash in an invisible standoff.
The air tensed for a brief moment, and the mood took a sharp dive. I knew Timothy was sticking up for me, so I quickly tried to smooth things over, “My foot is fine, and besides, President Stapleton has brought out such fine wine; it’d be a shame not to try it.”
With that, I picked up another glass and downed it.
Shirley, sensing the stiff atmosphere, suggested, “Drinking like this isn’t fun. How about we play a game?”
Timothy, lounging back on the couch, drawled, “What game?”
“Catch the hand.” Shirley immediately explained, “It’s simple. We all throw rock–paper–scissors together. If you match with someone, you grab their hand. Miss or forget to grab, you drink. How’s that?”
I couldn’t help but let out a wry smile. Hand grabbing was usually for people who were close, but Shirley had deliberately picked this game, making her intentions pretty clear.
