Tilly Zimmerman staggered to the sink, smacked open the faucet with a smack, her body swaying back and forth non-stop, and looked toward Nathan Moore through the mirror.
"Director Moore, the manager did give us instructions, haha... uh, that pretty boy outside..."
As Tilly zimmerman lifted her hand with colorful long nails and flicked water droplets towards the outside, Nathan Moore had to lean back to dodge the attack and listened to Tilly continuing.
"Yes, uh, he’s your rival, so... even at the cost of my life!" Slapping her chest with a hand, the wet hand made a not-so-small noise against the skin, "I have to get him drunk and make him a laughing stock... Director Moore, later on use your phone to capture it, and post it online..."
If Tilly Zimmerman’s earlier words were somewhat touching to him, especially the term "pretty boy", which was quite apt.
However, the subsequent "capture it and post it online" instantly darkened his handsome face.
Although he didn’t like Wesley Foley, he hadn’t reached such a point; only mean people would behave like that, and he truly disdained it!
Wesley Foley was already quite drunk, and with Tilly Zimmerman dawdling in the washroom that long, leaving that man and woman alone in the private room, he felt somewhat uneasy.
Once people get confused, they might do disgraceful things, he didn’t know if during this time that pretty boy harassed his woman.
Throwing away the cigarette butt and grinding it with the toe of his shoe, he took big strides towards Tilly Zimmerman, grabbing her arm without any gentleness and headed out of the washroom.
Nathan Moore’s steps were long and quick, and Tilly Zimmerman, wearing stilettos, was forced to trot along unsteadily behind him.
"Director Moore, can you slow down a bit, I’m feeling dizzy..."
After saying that, Tilly Zimmerman simply grasped Nathan Moore’s arm, leaning her entire body against him.
Concerned about his woman being taken advantage of, Nathan Moore didn’t mind and quickly returned to the private room a few seconds later, across the corridor of over twenty meters.
Pushing the door open, the sight that met him was Titus Zane standing by the chair, with that pretty boy, Wesley Foley, leaning into her embrace, his hand tightly gripping Titus Zane’s, and what made Nathan Moore the most angry was that the pretty boy’s head was relying in a position very close to the sensitive area of the woman’s upper body,
and even had his eyes closed, looking thoroughly content!
He stepped over quickly intending to pull that man away, but Tilly Zimmerman, clinging to his arm, stumbled and plunged forward directly.
Instinctively, Nathan Moore turned and caught her.
By inertia’s sake, Tilly Zimmerman fell firmly against his chest, and with a subconscious sense of safety, her lotus-like arms wrapped around his neck to prevent herself from falling.
Titus Zane turned her head, and the image of the man and woman intimately hugging each other came into her view.
Her usually serene eyes lost their warmth, looking at Nathan Moore with obvious indignation.
She spoke with an unprecedented icy tone.
"Director Moore, Director Foley has had too much to drink, we will take our leave now."
"Carry, let’s go back..." In a daze, Wesley Foley heard Titus Zane’s voice, frowned, and spoke weakly.
A feeling of turmoil in his stomach like overturned rivers, as if a flame was burning fiercely, even enduring another second might cause him to lose composure.
Not wanting to be laughed at, especially in front of this man, at this moment Wesley Foley just wanted to find a secluded place to expel the discomfort in his stomach as quickly as possible.
"All right, let’s go back now." Titus Zane lowered her gaze, her tone different when speaking with Wesley Foley, her soft voice as patient and good-tempered as soothing a child.
Watching Titus Zane’s gentle and virtuous demeanor, Nathan Moore’s jet-black eyes slowly squinted, but couldn’t hide the chill within.