NovelEnglish"Hey there, is this Ms. Yearwood?"
A strange male voice cthrough the phone, mingled with faint background music.
Sophia frowned in confusion but responded lightly, "Speaking, who's this?"
"Sguy here's got a bit too sloshed and isn't feeling too hot. | think he was trying to call you just now. You wanna cpick him
up? We're about to close up shop."
Sophia fell silent.
She glanced at her phone instinctively, making sure the call was indeed from Brandon and not sscam.
The word 'sloshed' and Brandon just didn't mix.
The Brandon she knew was all about control and discipline. Forget getting hammered; he was a one-drink wonder at most.
She couldn't even picture a smashed Brandon.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end broke her train of thought with a polite nudge.
Sophia snapped back to reality, "What's wrong with him?"
"Seems like he's tipsy and feeling under the weather, just slumped over the table resting, won't respond when called," the voice
replied with an edge of urgency.
"Switch to video call, will you?"
Sophia said as she hung up the call.
The guy on the other end sent a video call soon after.
When Sophia connected, she instantly saw Brandon, resting with his hand propping up his chin at the table, his brows knitted in
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtdiscomfort. He still wore his black suit from the evening, and an array of empty bottles littered the table in front of him, a clear sign
he'd had quite the fill.
But though he was plastered, there wasn't a hint of messiness about him. His pained expression was there, yet his features
remained cool and collected, not betraying the slightest sign of drunkenness.
The waiter holding the phone nudged Brandon's shoulder, "Sir?"
Brandon just winced in pain, giving no response, as if trying to endure sphysical discomfort.
"See, he's just like this," the waiter's voice cthrough, laced with concern. "Calling him does nothing, no idea what's up."
Sophia got to her feet without thinking, "Where's your place? Sendthe address."
She grabbed her keys from the entryway and headed out, saying, "Keep an eye on him for me. If anything seems off, call an
ambulance straight away."
"Will do."
The conversation ended with those words.
Sophia hailed a cab downstairs and headed to the address the waiter sent.
Her mind was a mix of anxiety and confusion the whole ride over.
She rang up Kent, "Kent, Mr. Crawley seems to have had one too many. Can you check on him?"
"Huh?"
Kent's first reaction was to check if he'd picked up the wrong call.
Sophia gave him the address, "Just go check on him, will you?"
"Ah? Oh, alright."
Sophia hung up.
She got to the restaurant before Kent, and the waiter was already waiting for her at the entrance.
"You're Ms. Yearwood, right?"
He asked politely as she rushed in.
Sophia nodded and scanned the bar, "Where's my friend at? How's he holding up?"
"He's still resting."
The waiter spoke as he led Sophia towards the private room.
The door to the room swung open, and there was Brandon, still in the spose as on the video call, hand propping up his chin,
eyes half-closed, brows furrowed, though his face seemed slightly more at ease than before.
The waiter looked apologetically at Sophia, "Ma'am, could you possibly take him home? It's tfor us to clock out."
Sophia hesitated for a moment but then nodded before turning to Brandon.
Even now, in his drunken state, his posture was still sharp, not showing a hint of defeat.
"Brandon."
Sophia called out softly.
His furrowed brows twitched, but his eyes remained closed.
Sophia squatted in front of him, calling out again, "Brandon?" While hesitantly reaching out to nudge him, her fingertips barely
touching his shoulder when suddenly, Brandon's eyes snapped open, his gaze dark and piercing.
Sophia stopped in her tracks, her hand hovering, wanting to retreat, but Brandon abruptly grabbed her wrist, his cold, deep eyes
locking onto hers, frighteningly intense.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmSophia didn't know if he was drunk or sober.
She had never seen Brandon drunk.
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