Off Limits ✔

7. Oh Boy, I'm in Trouble

I was struck dumb.

Garry and my professor went on with their brief family catch-up as I froze in my spot, struggling to process this unexpected encounter. The realization of Garry's resemblance to Mr. Andrew hit me like a bucket of cold water. Dark hair, strong jawline, and sharp eyes. How could I not see it earlier?

Garry introduced us briefly to Mr. Andrew and his company — his wife, girlfriend, or date? — who waved at us from her seat. Blake Andrew shook our hands, showing no signs of him recognizing me. Did I look completely different in this dress and with my makeup on? Or was it because there was not enough light? Or was he pretending? Before my brain could catch up, Brad pulled me to the booth.

"Thought you complained about standing on your heels," he said.

"Oh, yeah," I mumbled before plopping down on the last spot available next to him.

The booth had two brown leather sofas facing each other, with a narrow club table in between. It was barely enough to hold seven people, but it was better than nothing. Garry took the side where Mr. Andrew and the woman sat, while the rest of us cramped up on the other sofa; Lea practically had to sit on Josh's lap.

What could be more awkward than sitting at the same table with our professor at a nightclub? I might have found answers for that hadn't my mind been clouded by alcohol. My point was that the situation was too weird, and I didn't know where to look.

Mr. Andrew ordered one round of drinks for us, which was going to be my fifth drink. I was coming closer to the point of getting drunk, but for the sake of being polite, I couldn't say no. Just this once. Lea, who chose stronger liquors after our second drink, was already tipsy and unusually chatty. Hence I needed to be the soberer one.

As if reading my mind, Brad mumbled in my ear, "Don't worry, I'll make sure you two get home safe and sound tonight."

One thing I learned about Brad was he treated Lea like his own little sister. When Bailey's people hung out together during their off-hours, going all out and completely thrashed, Brad was always the soberest one. True to his word, he ordered soda drinks in the last two rounds tonight.

I smiled. "You're spoiling her."

"What can I say?" He shrugged. "She had me at hello."

I was about to respond to him when Garry shouted, "Daphne! Now, now, what have I missed? You looked stunning!"

"Shut up! Look at you now! Where did you hide my favorite chubby boy?" she replied, her smile matching the huge grin on Garry's face. "You haven't missed much, Garry. Nothing special, just work, work, and work."

As she said that, she brushed her blonde bangs backward. It was when I noticed the absence of a wedding band on her left ring finger — so, she wasn't Mr. Andrew's wife. Her pale complexion made her intense blue eyes stand out, even under the dim light. But my attention shifted to her plump lips, where her red lipstick was slightly smeared off. And my stomach churned.

In the next few minutes, everyone listened to Daphne and Garry with their brief reunion. Apparently, Daphne's and Garry's families knew each other well, which answered my curiosity about how they met. They had mutual friends and often hung out together when they were young. I wondered if Mr. Andrew was also in the group.

The thought prompted me to glance at my professor, who was intently looking at his cousin. How long would we pretend we didn't know each other? Or did he truly didn't recognize me? Should I take the initiative to refresh his memory?

A few scenarios played in my head.

"Good evening, Mr. Andrew! Do you still remember me? I am Jennifer Adrian, your student in the psycho-diagnostic lab. It's good to see you in this wonderful nightclub, sir." Uh. No.