Chapter 5
I explained, trying to look as innocent as possible, "Robin said he had to spend the evening with a female client."
Russell was always swamped with work. I felt that it was not a big deal if he needed some medicine.
At eight o'clock that evening, I was waiting in the company's parking garage to pick up Robin.
He stepped out of the elevator in a custom-fitted suit, his hair perfectly styled, showing no signs of exhaustion at all.
"Robin," I called out.
I rolled down the car window.
Robin arched his eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his gaze as he looked at me.
He sneered, "Barbara, can't get enough of taking care of me?"
I kept quiet, my gaze lingering on his sharp, handsome features before finally settling on his pale collarbone.
Robin was arrogant, mean, and pampered, he had a whole list of bad habits.
But he was so damn good-looking that people could easily overlook all his faults.
He settled into the back seat, stretching his long legs just enough to get comfortable, then leaned back and shut his eyes, trying to recharge.
He had a tricky client lined up tonight, so he couldn't be bothered with me.
The car cruised slowly through the city.
Before long, we pulled up to the Golden Entertainment.
Neon lights flashed everywhere, and the music was pounding so loud it felt like the whole place was shaking.
Robin got out, walked a few steps, then doubled back.
He knocked on the window next to me.
"Don't wait around here. Head back to the office," he said.
He arched his brow, giving the chaotic mix of people around us a quick glance.
I let out a muffled response, feeling an inexplicable flutter in my chest.
Honestly, sometimes he was actually pretty nice to me.
By eleven o'clock, I was still waiting for Robin's call, but my phone stayed silent.
With Darren's words echoing in my mind, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to do something.
I grabbed my keys and drove straight to Golden Entertainment.
I showed my ID at the front desk, and the hostess led me up to a private suite on the top floor.
As I opened the door, the air was thick with alcohol and cigarette smoke.
From the bathroom, I could hear someone puking, along with the sound of the toilet flushing.
"Robin?" I called out.
Trying to ignore how uncomfortable I felt, I walked further into the room.
The table was a total mess, with empty bottles standing and leaning at odd angles across the tablecloth.
Most of the guests had already left, and the few who remained were completely wasted, passed out with their faces pressed against the edge of the table, snoring loudly.
Robin was sitting upright in his chair at the head of the table, his posture perfectly straight.
His eyes were half-closed, his long lashes casting a faint shadow beneath them.
The corners of his eyes were tinged with a soft red, the color bleeding down into the hollows beneath, making him look vulnerable and fragile.
"Robin," I called out softly.
I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
Robin opened his eyes, staring at me with a lost, confused look for a long moment.
"Tina," he mumbled.
His words were slurred, barely making sense.
My sympathy for him suddenly hit pause.
"You're not allowed to quit," Robin slurred, sounding stubborn and possessive.
He pulled me into his arms, most of his weight pressing down on me.
The faint woody scent of his cologne made my senses tingle.
My heart was pounding like crazy.
Robin was completely passed out from drinking.
I had to get two bartenders to help me shove him into the car.
He wiped out everyone at the table. It was quite impressive.
I took a quick look at the company group chat.
The news that Tina had quit had already spread like wildfire, but nobody knew why.
Even Robin had no clue.
For the Floyd family's golden boy, having his first love end before it even started was definitely something worth getting wasted over.
I'd be the one stuck cleaning up his mess.
I let out a sigh, hit the gas, and soon pulled up to Robin's apartment.
It was a small, unassuming townhouse that looked like it had seen better days.
I opened the back door and helped Robin out of the car.
He'd been quiet the whole ride, but now he was suddenly acting up, getting all needy and making a fuss.
"Barbara," he mumbled, his voice soft and slurred.
He buried his face in my neck, rubbing against me like a kid.
I froze, totally thrown by how close he was.
Robin only ever called me that when he was a kid, during a fever.
When he got no response, Robin lifted his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked at me.
He stared at me, asking again and again, his voice shaky and lost, "Why? Why doesn't anyone want me?"
I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out just how sober he really was.
The dim, flickering streetlights threw shadows across his face.
Almost without thinking, I reached out and lifted his chin, making sure he heard every word.
I said, "Robin, I like you. I want you."
Robin's eyes went wide, and he shot up to his feet.
With a loud bang, he smacked his forehead right into the car roof.
He was out cold.