"Easy on the pedal, take your time." she slurred slightly, a warm smile spreading across her flushed face. "Even if everyone else bails, I'll stay there and wait for you."
Just a couple of drinks into the evening - a toast with the director, all because of the adrenaline rushing from Ivy's successful roadshow - and already she was trying to put a cap on her intake. She had overestimated her tolerance, and those mere two drinks were hitting her hard. Her cheeks burned a bright crimson, her eyes shimmered with a tipsy sheen, and she couldn’t tolerate even a tiny sip.
Evadne, quick to spot her plight, swapped out her wine for a soda and instructed the kitchen to whip up a bowl of soup to suppress the alcohol.
Colton, too, leaned in with a concerned furrow between his brows. "You okay there?"
He was, of course, worried about Balfour's reaction rather than her well-being.
"I'm just hoping she won't have a nasty headache tomorrow," Evadne lamented, "That would really throw a wrench in things."
Colton slapped his forehead with self-reproach. "I told this girl not to have that second drink. She just had to show off, didn't she? Now, look where it's gotten her – all queasy."
Ivy, clutching her heated cheeks, retorted with feigned annoyance, "Please don't pin this on me showing off. Can’t I handle a couple of drinks?”
“Can you? If you can, Balfour wouldn’t have asked us to keep an eye on you. That’s all because you can’t!”
But her defiance only grew, "What are you talking about? You’re just afraid of Balfour, but I am not! I'll say it to his face – I can hold my liquor."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the room fell into an eerie silence. Colton was barely containing his chuckles as he gestured toward someone behind her.
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