Sweet Flash Marriage with the Restrained Tycoon (Isabelle and Damien) novel Chapter 886

Chapter 886
Drive Me Home

Dolores clutched the sleeve of his jacket, her lips pressed tightly together, eyes pleading with him not to raise his voice.

“Did you take that guy out?” Harvey snapped his seatbelt into place with a sharp click, his gaze fixed on her.

Dolores offered a strained smile and kept quiet.

He rubbed his cheek again. “You’ve got one hell of a right hook. Next time aim for his face—don’t take it out on me.”

She pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders and slipped it on.

Harvey shut the passenger door and circled around to the driver’s side.

“Ouch—” he hissed under his breath. “Seriously, you didn’t hold back at all…”

Dolores picked up her phone and discreetly texted Henrietta.

“Your brother’s pissed again. What should I do?”

Henrietta replied with a thumbs-up emoji. “Nice work. What cosmic rule did he break to deserve that? Cut him some slack, will you? My allowance can’t keep up with your drama.”

“I slapped him…”

Dolores watched Harvey slide into the driver’s seat, her palms growing clammy.

“Maybe just block me for now and unblock when he chills. Otherwise I’ll be dumpster diving for cardboard boxes by tomorrow.”

Harvey noticed her focused texting and slowly started the engine.

She put her phone away, remembering the two slaps he’d given Keith—and the one she’d landed on him.

She felt like she was slowly burning on a grill.

Then Harvey spoke up casually, “I need to swing by the office and grab some files. You can rest up—it’ll be a bit.”

“Okay, I’m not…”

Amanda just called. She knows you had drinks and told me to drive you home. Don’t try ducking out of saying the wrong thing.

“Are you planning to come back to work? Still hitting the road with Quentin on sales runs?”

Dolores didn’t want to risk upsetting him further—the last thing she needed was to lose her job.

“Still tagging his dad around for client drinks anymore.”

It went down sweet, but afterward she felt shaky and dizzy. Definitely not her thing. She’d much rather stick to accounting.

“Then pick me up at my place tomorrow morning.”

“Huh?” Dolores glanced at him. Was he already doling out tasks? “Alright.”

Harvey pulled up in front of the office building. Before stepping out, he said, “Wait here. Don’t wander off.”

“Mm.”

Dolores was worn out, but she didn’t dare doze off in front of Harvey.

He got out and strode briskly toward the entrance.

Leaning against the window, Dolores watched him go.

She’d hit him… but he didn’t really seem angry.

Though back at Southhall Compound, he’d looked ready to blow.

“Dolores?”

Michael Steele, just wrapping up for the day, spotted a drowsy Dolores sitting in Harvey’s car.

She cracked her eyes open halfway. “Michael, you’re still here?”

Michael took in her alcohol-flushed cheeks, then glanced at the license plate.

Yep, Harvey’s car all right.

And there was Dolores in the passenger seat, wrapped in Harvey’s jacket.

He’d just seen Harvey heading into the building minutes ago, depending on…

“There’s some trouble at the firm—half the team’s pulling late nights. Heard you took some personal time? Everything okay?” Michael was brimming with curiosity.

Dolores suddenly sobered a little. “What kind of trouble?”

“Someone’s sabotaging the project. The construction site’s shut down for now, and everything’s chaos here.”

Her mind cleared a bit more.

No wonder Howard had told her the other day to come back soon because things were piling up. She’d assumed it was just Harvey giving him a hard time.

Turned out the project was actually in crisis.

Michael peeked toward the office building, then back at her. “So when did you and Mr. Cross start… you know?”

“Huh?” Dolores caught his teasing look and quickly corrected him. “We’re not together. His sister-in-law had a re-entry today and I happened to be there. We’re neighbors. He just offered me a ride on his way.”

“Oh, really?”

He studied her with amused interest.

“What else would it be?” Dolores replied flatly.

She’d explained this more times than she could count, but somehow people still doubted it.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Michael nodded, muttering mostly to himself. “Even if you two were close, this is a bit much…”

“What was that?” She let out a breath, her stomach starting to churn.

Michael shrugged innocently. “Nothing.”

He was about to ask another question when Dolores suddenly pushed the car door open, nearly bumping into him.

She hurried over to a nearby tree, braced herself against the trunk, and threw up.

“Whoa, how much did you drink…” Michael stared for a second, then rushed back to the car to grab some napkins.

He glanced at her in the passenger seat. She was slumped against the window, eyebrows pinched, looking completely out of it.

“Henrietta’s not home… I can’t stay at your place alone,” she mumbled, her words slurred.

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