The man accompanying Elaine tried to mediate.
âMiss Fowler, pleaseââ
But Cecilia countered, âWasnât this her idea?â
She glanced around the room, smiling, âOr does anyone want to see me finish these three glasses?â
No one dared challenge Cecilia, leaving Elaine cornered.
The man turned to Elaine, trying to keep his composure.
âElaine, you acted without thinking.
Itâs your turn to drink up for Mr.
Evans.
â
Eyes teary, Elaine protested, âWhy should I?â
Cecilia set the glass down, asserting, âBecause I am a Fowler.
â
Without another word, she exited, the remnants of the drink swaying in the glass.
Mark chuckled softly.
âPardon me.
â
âMr.
Evans.
â Elaineâs voice halted him.
Pausing, Mark responded coolly, âMiss Shaw, one important lesson in life is to learn oneâs limits.
â
He departed soon after, leaving a hushed room behind.
A voice broke the silence.
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âJust one drink should suffice.
â
But the liquor, a reminder of Ceciliaâs bold move, tasted especially sharp.
Elaine had made her mark in the entertainment world, and with Chandlerâs support, she acted with authority.
This incident, however, had deeply humbled her.
Her eyes held a sorrowful tint.
That night, someone had offered to help Elaine, but pride kept her from accepting.
Cecilia hurried on.
Mark had to pick up his pace to keep up.
He chuckled, grabbing the edge of her dress.
âYou sure move quickly in those heels.
â