With his name having been called, Marshall couldn’t pretend they didn’t exist, so he walked over to help support the body of Mr. Henderson. “Had too much to drink, huh?”
Clara didn’t do the polite dance with him before putting Mr. Henderson in his charge. “They are too good,” she said, slightly out of breath, “and I can’t really drink, so Dad did the drinking for me for the second half of the dinner.”
The elevator door opened and the four of them walked in together.
Mr. Grant remained quiet throughout the elevator ride. He started to develop ill feelings for the Hendersons when they took advantage of Marshall’s divorce to make a PR mess. And now, he was even more disinclined to talk to the Henderson father and daughter since he was feeling queasy from the alcohol.
Clara, too, kept silent ever since she got into the elevator. She leaned back on one of the walls of the elevator carriage and looked absolutely miserable, too.
When they reached the ground floor, Marshall was still responsible for helping Mr. Henderson out of the elevator.
Their respective cars were waiting in front of the restaurant, so Mr. Grant got into his car, and Marshall helped Mr. Henderson into his own.
Unexpectedly, Mr. Henderson had no sooner settled in than he puked all over the car.
Clara froze before she rushed over. “Are you alright, Dad?”
Having emptied his stomach, Mr. Henderson felt better. He was able to stand upright when he got out of the car, and he waved a hand at Marshall. “Don’t mind me. You guys go ahead. I’ll get my car washed.”
“Well then,” Marshall suggested, “you can take my car. Let me get you two home when your chauffeur gets someone to wash the car.”
But Mr. Henderson was adamant as he shook his head. “No. I shall see to the car-washing myself.”
Clara turned to look at Marshall. “This car is a treasured gift from Mom. It’s been decades but Dad refuses to retire it. He also gets it thoroughly maintained regularly.”
Marshall had heard the same story before. Mr. Henderson’s car had long been out of fashion, but it was the only car he’d use when he needed to go out. Thus, Marshall nodded as he commented, “Mr. and Mrs. Henderson enjoy a wonderfully adoring relationship indeed.”
Mr. Henderson laughed before he said to Clara, “Why don’t you take the car of our young gentleman Marshall and head on home then? I’m feeling much better now, and I shall return home once the car gets cleaned.” And he looked much better indeed.
Clara then turned her inquisitive gaze to Marshall, who understandably had no choice but to agree. “Okay.”
With the chauffeur present, Marshall reasoned, Mr. Henderson should be fine and nothing bad would happen to him.
Mr. Grant and Marshall had arrived in the restaurant in their separate cars. Since Mr. Grant was not yet gone, he spoke as Marshall was about to usher Clara into the latter man’s car. “You know what, Clara, let me get you home. Marshall had a lot more to drink than I did, so he should really get home and rest now.”
Clearly embarrassed, Clara froze before replying, “No, sir, I shall not bother you.”
“It’s no bother at all! I welcome the opportunity to ride the car with the window down and feel the wind blow past my face. Perfect way to sober up.”
After that, Mr. Grant didn’t wait for Clara’s polite refusals before he spoke directly to Marshall. “Go on home, then. You had quite a lot to drink just now, so don’t forget to ask the kitchen staff to make you some liver-detox juice when you get back. Make sure you drink it before going to sleep.”
Hesitant, Marshall watched his father for a short while and suddenly looked as if he was comprehending something. “Okay.”
Then he turned to Clara. “It’s a good idea that you take my father’s car. I probably smell like a brewery right now.”
As such, Clara had no choice but to accept her fate as she nodded with a smile. “Well then, thank you both so much for your kind arrangements.”
And then she walked towards Mr. Grant’s car, opened the door, and got in.
Marshall ducked into his own car and asked the chauffeur to pull away. But he kept catching glimpses of Mr. Grant’s vehicle from the rearview mirror.
When Mr. Grant spoke to Marshall, the older gentleman looked as if he was trying to give the younger one some warning.
Yes, Marshall had been negligent indeed.
Marshall didn’t look away until Mr. Grant’s car had finally disappeared from his view. He, too, had had too much to drink, and his brain seemed not to be working as he closed his eyes and reclined into the car seat.
He didn’t even know when the car had pulled into the Grant residence, only realizing his whereabouts when the chauffeur woke him up.
Marshall exited the car and leaned on it for a good while before he felt slightly more sober. He slowly made his way to the main hall of the residence and ordered the kitchen staff to make him some detox beverage.
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