He himself was also slammed into by Renee Anderson, stumbled, and crashed into the table. His waist took the hit, and the pain made him grunt.
Seeing that she’d achieved her goal, Renee immediately went over pretending to be concerned and helped him up. "Adam, are you okay? I was in too much of a hurry just now and slipped. I didn’t mean it."
The bartender at the bar also noticed the motion over here and walked over.
"What’s wrong with Young Master Sinclair?"
Renee propped up the man who was already half-unconscious from the drug kicking in, pulled at the corner of her lips, and said, "He’s fine, he probably just got drunk just now."
"Uh, Young Master Sinclair is drunk?" The bartender didn’t really buy it.
He had just seen Adam Sinclair drink only one glass of alcohol.
And it was a cocktail.
A man getting this drunk off a single cocktail was way too rare; it was hard not to be suspicious.
The bartender hesitated, then offered, "How about I send Young Master Sinclair back?"
Just then, the mixologist came over as well, blocking the bartender who was about to go help Renee support Adam Sinclair. He shot him an annoyed look and said, "What are you doing? Miss Anderson’s right here, you think she needs you to send Young Master Sinclair back? Hm? You stupid or what."
The bartender caught the hint in his suggestive look and showed a suddenly enlightened expression. He automatically interpreted it as Adam Sinclair pretending to be drunk and the two of them flirting.
This kind of situation was very mon in bars. Usually, when a man and a woman liked each other and one of them was too shy, they would pretend to be drunk and let the other send them home, so things could naturally progress to some bed action.
Although, most of the time it was girls using this trick; he rarely saw guys pull this one. The bartender’s gaze toward Adam Sinclair turned disdainful, as if he felt this pick-up trick of Adam’s was embarrassing for a man. "I see. Then Miss Anderson, I’ll go get a cab for you two."
A man like Young Master Sinclair, who had money and looks, actually needed to use this loser-level pick-up technique? That was really a bit LOW.
Sigh, you can never figure out what’s going on in rich people’s heads.
"Thanks." Renee accepted his help with easy poise and casually tipped him.
The bartender happily trotted out to flag a taxi.
Once the bartender left, the bar—already closed for the night—only had the mixologist left. Renee first settled the man, who was frowning and had pletely slipped into unconsciousness, onto a chair to sit. Then she pulled a card out of her wallet and handed it to the mixologist, saying calmly, "Take the money and get out of the country immediately, got it?"
The mixologist greedily took the black card, forced down his excitement, and nodded. "Don’t worry, Miss Anderson, I know what to do. I’ve already booked my ticket. Once you leave, I’ll head straight to the airport."
This was a huge job he’d just pulled.
Once Young Master Sinclair sobered up, he’d definitely e after him first.
For a small fry like him, it’d be child’s play to crush him. His only option was to get out of the country before Young Master Sinclair woke up, and hide in some place where no one knew him for a while.
Of course, in return he was getting enough money to blow for the rest of his life and still not run out!
"At least you’re not pletely stupid. Remember, what happened today, you don’t tell anyone. If I find out you sold me out, Adam Sinclair won’t let you off, and neither will I." Renee gave him a cold look.
The mixologist immediately raised his hand and swore, "I will absolutely not tell anyone!"
Renee gave him one last long, warning look before pulling her gaze back and coolly instructing, "Help me get him into the taxi."
"Okay."
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