"Hey, Rick!" Roger called out, his voice cutting through the lively chatter of the bar. Roderick, seated with his usual crowd, raised an eyebrow in response. With a sigh, he excused himself and strode over to Roger.
"What do you want? Did my uncle send you here?" Roderick asked, his tone laced with impatience.
Roger shook his head. "No. The boss doesn't even know I'm here. Listen, send Sylvia home. Make sure she gets there safely," he said, nodding toward a corner where Sylvia sat slouched on a couch, her eyes closed.
Roderick let out a derisive snicker. "What do I look like, her chauffeur? Do it yourself," he shot back, turning on his heel to rejoin his friends.
