“Just a bottle of beer.” Chris also thought he was a little strange tonight. “It’s weird, I usually don’t feel anything even after drinking a dozen bottles.”
“You’d better pull over and call for a driver,” Charlotte hurriedly reminded, “You can’t violate traffic rules.”
“If we stop now, they will catch up soon.” He cautiously stared at the rearview mirror.
“Why do I feel that you are more afraid of my boss than I am?” she asked casually.
His eyes flickered, but he soon justified himself. “Aren’t you afraid of running into him? I don’t want to cause you trouble.”
“Don’t talk about this for now. Let’s call a driver,” she urged.
“Don’t worry, I know myself.”
Seizing every opportunity, Chris drove the car to the suburbs at breakneck speed as if he were in a race.
“What are you doing? You can’t speed in the city. Stop now.”
Charlotte turned to look at him.
He’s flushed and sweaty. Something must be wrong with him.