The entire private dining room fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop.


    Elissa was rarely ever embarrassed, but this was work, and Rowan was her biggest client.


    She reminded herself to keep things strictly professional.


    After a moment to collect herself, sheposed her expression and said, “You’re joking, Mr. Murphy.”


    With that, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.


    She’d barely taken two steps before noticing that the only open seat left was right next to Rowan, on his left. All the other extra chairs had been cleared away by the staff.


    Feeling a bit awkward, she nced up and caught Rowan watching her with leisurely interest, his long fingers tapping idly on the table. “See?


    You’re still afraid of me.”


    Elissa had to resist the urge to turn around and walk out. Gathering herposure, she made her way over. “Mr. Murphy, if people at Murphy Group are all so afraid of you, I’m guessing your reputation isn’t exactly ster.”


    Rowan didn’t seem bothered. “You’re right. Ask anyone here–who isn’t


    afraid of me?”


    He looked at her, a hint of a smile ying at his lips. “Except you. Only


    you aren’t.”


    The rest of the table sat in stunned silence, no one daring to guess what


    he really meant.


    Some of them were probably thinking that being noticed by the big boss wasn’t


    avs a


    blessing.


    The meal felt suffocating, tension hanging in the air.


    Thankfully, the door opened at just the right moment, and the waiters


    came in carrying tes of food.


    The project lead, Zachary Jones, was no fool. He couldn’t quite figure out what was going on between Elissa and Rowan, but it was obvious there was some kind of connection.


    Zachary raised his ss to Elissa. “Ms. Drummond, we’re counting on your team in Traditional Medicine for this project. Let me make a toast <b>to </b>


    you.”


    “This is my job,” Elissa replied, lifting her own wine ss and clinking it lightly with his. “Looking forward to working together.”


    Without any hesitation, she drank the wine in one go.


    Unfortunately, her tolerance was terrible. After just a few more sses, her fair cheeks were flushed a deep rosy red.


    Still, she held her liquor decently. Even tipsy, she simply propped her chin in her hands and stayed quietly in her seat.


    She thought she was still in control, able to keep up with the work talk, but before long, everyone started to blur before her eyes.


    Her mind felt light and fuzzy, her head heavy.


    Zachary was surprised. “Ms. Drummond, you really can’t hold your wine, can you?”


    “She doesn’t usually drink. This wine is stronger than it seems,” Cliff said, ncing at the bottle.


    He set down the wine and offered, “It’s gettingte anyway. I’ll take her


    home.”


    Elissa heard voices around her, but everything was hazy. She vaguely felt someone supporting her, guiding her outside..


    She’de with Cliff tonight, so she’d allowed herself to drink, knowing she had a friend around.


    With more men than women at the table, there was no avoiding the


    09 <b>49 </b>


    drinks. She didn’t mind doing this favor for Zachary–after all, it would make the coboration smoother down the line.


    She just hadn’t expected the aftereffects of the wine to be so strong.


    Cliff was just helping her out of the restaurant when a sleek ck Bentley pulled up to the curb.


    The window rolled down. Rowan was sitting in the back seat, his gaze flicking to where Cliff’s hand rested on Elissa’s shoulder. His tone was calm and businesslike:


    “Mr. Riley, I believe Zachary Jones needs to discuss a few more technical details with you before you go.”


    Cliff frowned. “But Elissa’s had too much to drink. I should get her home.


    first.”


    “It’s fine,” Rowan replied, pushing open the car door and easily lifting Elissa by the waist. His voice was cool and even, as if he were simply doing a good deed for the day. “I was just leaving. I’ll take her.”