Later that evening Charles took Gemma with him to a business dinner at a local restaurant. The joined a group of people in a private room. Charles sat across from Gemma. A man he didn't recognize sat beside Gemma. Immediately Charles felt himself tense up.
It was a new feeling. He had never cared about anyone before. Certainly not a woman like Gemma. Yet, as he watched the unfamiliar man steel glances at Gemma, he felt his well practiced self-control wavering. He clenched his fists.
"President Wen, I can't help but admire your employee's beauty. You are quite lucky to have the company of such a woman. I propose a toast to her beauty!" The man spoke up. Gemma gripped her hands around her water goblet. She felt irritation that the man spoke as if she wasn't present for the conversation; as though she were merely an object to be studied.
Charles smiled with a deadly glint in his eyes. "I'll always be willing to drink to my girlfriend's beauty and intelligence." He said evenly, lifting his glass and hitting it against the other man's glass. He downed the wine immediately.
The other man stared in wide eyed surprise. "Girlfriend?" He asked.
"That's right. She's my woman." The emphasis placed on his words could not be mistaken.
"Then, a toast to you, on finding such a rare beauty!" The man jovially cried.
Gemma watched in dismay as the two men tossed back two more glasses of wine.
As the dinner continued, both Charles and the mystery man continued to drink, almost as if they were in a competition to see who could hold the most alcohol. Gemma felt disgusted watching them. As they threw back yet another glass of wine, she excused herself to the restroom to keep from losing her temper.
"Honestly! They're both acting like spoiled little boys!" She muttered as she splashed water in her face trying to calm down.
As she exited the washroom she encountered the man who was in a drinking contest with Charles. She angrily walked past him, but he grabbed her wrist.
"Where are you going, Beauty?" His lewd voice slurred with drunkenness and lust.
She shook her hand free.
"Sir, you are drunk. Please call a driver to take you back." Gemma spat the words in disgust.
"How about you take me back? The night is young. We could have a lot of fun!" The man said suggestively.
Before Gemma could react, the man was snatched off his feet. Gemma looked on in shock as Charles lifted the man by his shirt.
"Get away from my woman!" Charles's voice was low and menacing. He threw the man to the floor in a heap and grabbed Gemma's wrist.
"Come on! We're leaving!" He growled.
Gemma was confused. Why was he so angry with her? She didn't have long to wait. As soon as they sat down in the back of the car, he turned to her.
"Can you manage to not flirt with every man you see?!" He shouted.
Gemma was horrified.
"I didn't! I was telling him to call a driver because I wasn't interested! I wasn't flirting!" She cried in dismay.
"Women....all the same. Can't trust...anyone. Fickle." Charles was muttering to himself under his breath. Gemma realized it was the alcohol talking. She sighed and sat back in frustration.
When they arrived back at the hotel she had to have his driver help her get Charles back to their room. Charles took a few steps into the room and began vomiting profusely. Gemma grimaced and turned to the driver.
"Could you request extra towels for our room on your way out?"
He nodded and left quickly, looking queasy at the sight.
Gemma unceremoniously helped Charles to the bathroom and began running water into the tub. She quickly stripped Charles and helped him sit in the warm water. She gave him a wash rag.
"Here. Clean yourself up up while I clean the floor. You wreak of alcohol and vomit." She commanded as she stormed out.
She made quick work of cleaning up the floor and took the extra towels from room service. She went back to the washroom and helped Charles out of the bath. She dried him off and made him brush his teeth.
"Go get in bed while I clean up." Gemma commanded.
He meekly obeyed. She watched him fall on to the bed, his legs hanging off. She sighed, went to him, and helped him get on his side of the bed—all of him.
She went back to the washroom for her own shower and grumbled.
"Good grief. What was he thinking?!" She fumed.