When was the last time Roseanne was truly drunk?
Four years ago when she first met Czar at the hotel bar?
Even then she had only been a little tipsy, just enough to flush her cheeks and loosen her tongue. Now, though, there was no mistaking it. Her heart was pounding, her head was spinning, and laughter spilled out of her more freely than ever before.
She was, without question, drunk. Enjoying every minute of it as she engaged in the lively conversation at their table.
A few hours earlier, not long before clocking off, someone from the marketing department had extended an invitation to the executive assistants; dinner at a restaurant nearby.
Ermias, being considerate, told her there was no obligation and that he understood if she needed to head home to her son. But Frederic had insisted she join; after all, as a new recruit, it was important for her to mingle with colleagues across departments.
