Mr. Lorell was the only sober one. Since he had to drive later, he hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol all evening.
Morgan Joyce leaned back in his chair in a drunken haze. His stomach churned, and a wave of nausea washed over him. He hadn't eaten a single bite of food during the entire meal, just relentlessly poured himself drink after drink.
Mr. Lorell looked worriedly at the figures slumped over the table. He took out his phone and called the sales manager from Ward Company, telling him to hurry over and get his people.
After hanging up, Mr. Lorell grabbed Morgan Joyce's overcoat and helped him into it. He supported him as he staggered to his feet. "Mr. Joyce, let me take you home."
Morgan Joyce frowned in discomfort, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
Mr. Lorell didn't notice. He just helped Morgan Joyce out of the private room, muttering under his breath, "Mr. Joyce, there are plenty of fish in the sea. Why are you torturing yourself like this?"
"Shut up."
