His Billion Dollar Girl

CHAPTER 5

THE REBELLIOUS LIGHT of the sun escaped from the curtain and stung Lizabeth's baby face, urging her to wake up. Last night was a blast and with the banging she felt around her head, it reminded her that how much ounces or volumes of beer she had consumed. Grumbling and growling, Lizabeth gradually shattered her eyes open, squinting to outcast the sleepiness she had that brought back the images of her and Ralph, laughing and giggling till midnight. Stretching and sprawling her limbs through the bed, the alarm clock cacophonously rang.

Reaching to the night stand in order to retrieve and cease the maddening object, Lizabeth snatched the alarm clock. Her directly searched the hands of time before discovering that she only had thirty-five minutes to prepare and before her work schedule started. "Oh my goodness!" Lizabeth bellowed, climbing off the bed. Feeling dizzy, she almost swoon as she sprinted fast heading to the washroom. "Mr Kenney would definitely bark at me."

Getting late to work, Lizabeth thought she could have a good reason why she had so. She went out with the son of the owner of the store last night and they had dinner. Then rain fell so heavily which made them tarry and dawdle for a moment in the restaurant. Well, unfortunately, the weather last night was indeed kind of a dismal but it actually didn't rain – opposite of what Ralph tentatively presumed. However, if she used it as a reason to defend herself from being tardy, it would be definitely not a good idea to impress Chandler.

She couldn't lie to him.

Staggering, Lizabeth dashed formidably from the bathroom to her small walk-in closet. She found herself grabbing her retail store uniform and the pair of black leather shoes. After tying the laces of her shoes, she hurriedly snatched her backpack from the side desk and stormed out of her bedroom. Yanking her keys from the rack, she opened the door and only to gag, rigging her body when Ralph was standing at the hallway with a backpack slung over his shoulder. The guy seemed not having some sort of hangover after consuming an excessive amount of alcohol last night.

He sobered up, or perhaps unaffected, or had a high alcohol tolerance.

"Your face is tinted red." Ralph's comment was such a distraction to Lizabeth. The direct meaning of his comment was unsure. "Are you okay?"

"What do you think?"

"What an interrogating question."

"You said my face is tinted red." Lizabeth muttered under her breath as she started strolling through the hallway. Her tone sounded like grumbling or whining but not irked nor agitated. "That definitely be because of the alcohol." She gagged in front of the elevator and turned to Ralph. "I didn't tell you that I have a low tolerance of alcohol." She appended before throwing herself inside the elevator.

Ralph followed bolting inside the elevator, positioning himself inches away from Lizabeth. "I'm sorry if I invited you to drink with me last night, Miss Redwood." He apologized honestly, emitting and innocent face. "I should have known better that you have a low tolerance of alcohol. But–"

"It's my fault." Lizabeth blurted out, cutting Ralph off. As if she knew what the guy would be blurting at her. And that it was her fault for accepting the invitation. "I shouldn't have accepted and agreed to drink with you." She said as she slithered out of the elevator first before Ralph. "But–" she trailed off as she turned to Ralph. "I'm happy for carrying me to my apartment. And I thank you."

"You're welcome, Miss Redwood." Ralph smiled and his expression lightened up. "It's a pleasure to carry you."

I hope he didn't touch me. I passed out last night before he carried me back to my apartment. Lizabeth mused silently as she sauntered unwavingly to her car. She gagged and stood steadily as if she was contemplating. But if he did, damn me.