I got dressed, fixed my hair and makeup and arrived early at the private dining room to arrange the dishes and drinks.
Sure enough, the moment Landon walked in, he pulled me to sit next to him.
His lecherous eyes lingered on me. "Ms. White, you're quite charming! Are you married? Your husband must be a lucky man!"
As he placed his hand on my shoulder, a foul stench assaulted my nose.
Michael, sitting nearby, sipped his wine, showing no intention of helping me.
When Landon's hand started moving up my leg, I couldn't suppress the wave of nausea any longer and excused myself to the restroom.
When I returned, Landon was already a drunken mess.
By the end of the dinner, Landon still hadn’t agreed to sign the cooperation deal.
He and Michael, arms draped around each other, staggered out of the restaurant. I bundled both of them into the back seat of the car.
Just as I was about to get into the passenger seat, Michael suddenly spoke in a surprisingly clear voice, "Get out and wait outside."
Obediently, I closed the door and stood with the driver outside the car.
Almost immediately after we stepped out, Landon's wails filled the air and the car began to shake violently.