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Chapter 65
Once in the washroom, Sean made a phone call. He must chase Frank away or he would not be getting Helen tonight!
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“Zuco, it’s me, Sean.” Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.
The man’s tone became friendly immediately, “Oh, Mr. Wesley! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Sean promptly gave him the details, and Zuco was soon patting his chest and assuring him, “Don’t worry, brother. You just leave this to me.”
“Yeah. That’s a hundred grand in your account later.” Sean smiled. “Don’t make me come all this way
for nothing.”
With that, he hung up and cheerfully returned to his seat.
Gina asked eagerly, “Where have you been, Mr. Wesley?”
off.
“Nowhere. Just went for a bathroom break,” Sean said, happily studying Frank for a moment before turning back to Helen, ignoring him. “Helen, I think that bastard is obviously here to piss you Let’s not lose to them now–let’s enjoy ourselves and ignore them.”
Gina nodded repeatedly in agreement. “Mr. Wesley’s right. Don’t get petty with them.”
Helen agreed too–there was no reason for her to quarrel with Frank.
As she picked up her glass and chugged it, Sean sneaked out the pill he prepared beforehand and threw it into the whiskey bottle. “Here. Let’s get you a refill.”
Gina chimed in, “Me too, Mr. Wesley.”
Sean frowned. “You shouldn’t drink something this strong, ma’am. You’re not that young”
Gina waved him off and snatched the bottle. “It’s fine. We’re all here to celebrate.”
Sean promptly snatched it back and gingerly refilled Helen’s glass. “I’ll pour some for you later, ma’am. Just save some for me and Helen before that.”
Beside Frank, Vicky drank more than a few glasses. Her breath stank of alcohol, and her fair cheeks
were now red.
Seeing that, Frank said, “That’s enough. We should go.”
Vicky shook her head, her eyes leveled sharply at the opposite seat. “I haven’t gone should drink too.”
all out yet–you
Frank followed her gaze to find that Helen was just finishing her glass as Vicky did, and it was
obvious they were not sharing a toast.
Still, given that Vicky was not mumbling, she was not drunk yet.
Just then, a bald man with a cigar arrived with two goons in tow.
They made a beeline for Frank, standing in front of him and barking, “Frank Lawrence, is it?”
Frank frowned. “I am. What’s the problem?”
The bald man was none other than Zuco and barked, “You’re not welcome here. Get out.
Vicky sprang to her feet right then, snapping, “I paid to be here, and you’re telling us to leave? Who do you think you are?!”
Zuco put his hands on his hips and retorted, “I’m the head of security here, and someone informed us that you were causing a scene. Now leave!”
“Informed you? Who?” Vicky snapped, wheeling on Sean. “You?!”
Sean shrugged innocently, even though he called Zuco there. “What are you saying, Ms. Turnbull?! don’t know him at all–you must’ve done something wrong to be asked to leave.