Chapter 22 Hangover Cola

Ophelia hurried into the backstage with a worried look, put the captured red wine bottle on the table, and said, "Maggie, where have you been? I've been looking for you for half an hour."
Maggie crafted her words carefully and said, "I accidentally spilled the wine just now, so I went to the lounge to clean up."
There was only one lounge on the second floor, and it was not open to the public. One had to be of a certain status to qualify.
She was unaware of this.
Ophelia was in a bad mood at the moment, and she didn't pay attention to her anger. It wasn't directed at her anyway. She took out a white card from her bag and said, "I owe you a meal. It's only been a few hours since the opening, and someone has already been sent to the hospital for overdrinking. I have to keep an eye on it. It would be unlucky if things got out of hand. Take this Lakefront Escape Club VIP card, take your mom there when you're free, and put it on my tab."
She wanted to refuse again, feeling overwhelmed by the generosity, but Ophelia didn't give her a chance. "I'm a straightforward person, and if you try to stand me up twice, we won't be friends anymore."
Maggie held onto the card and couldn't say a word.
Ophelia patted her slim shoulders and left in a hurry.
Maggie walked out of the Strip Club, and an ambulance happened to whizz by, piercing through the deep blue fog of the night as if breaking through a barrier.
An Audi A6 was parked by the roadside, flashing its hazard lights at her twice. Maggie was certain it was Harold.
She recalled the passionate and fiery figure of his body, like a freshly baked sheet of steel, burning through her from inside out, making her legs weak.
After the regulations were implemented, expensive and luxurious wines couldn't be displayed anymore. Businessmen were meticulous, and they would remove all packaging before serving the wine in transparent glassware.
Harold, after taking the first sip, could already feel the burning sensation in his lungs.
He smoked heavily, buried in mountains of documents, accompanying officials on various visits, working day and night, just to stay sharp, but he wasn't a heavy drinker. He only punished his body.
After a few drinks, he excused himself with a headache and hid in the lounge.
Maggie said farewells, seemingly like an anchor or a nail, actually embedding the two of them deeply into each other's souls.
The driver was still Nick, who remembered Maggie well.
No matter if it was for official or personal use, few women had ever been in his car before. When she got in, a scent of rosewood mixed with peach filled the air. Harold's gaze never left her.
"Address," he said.
Maggie sat up straight. "Skyline Parkway."
Her newly rented house was in the old town area of Washington D.C. After the city's reconstruction, the streets and facilities were revitalized. It was also not far from the television station, giving it a high overall cost performance.
Nick set the navigation, showing that it would take about forty minutes to drive from the southern suburbs to the Skyline Parkway area.
The evening rush hour was still lingering, and the roads were not very clear.
As a local, Harold was familiar with the routes. He decisively told Nick to take the inner ring expressway and exit at the gate of the military camp in the city.
"Mayor, taking a shortcut from the north gate of the military camp to the west gate can shorten the journey by five minutes. Are you in a hurry?"
Harold glanced at him in the rearview mirror and replied, "No."
Just as he turned the car, a car with a red license plate, a modified Red Flag sedan used for parades, passed by. When the two cars were close together, they both parked.
Harold rolled down the window and smiled, nodding. "Commissioner, such a late hour, official business?"
The man nodded respectfully, not smiling, revealing a trim military uniform and a yellow-green corner of a shoulder badge. "The military has an exercise mission."
Maggie was afraid of being discovered and causing a bad influence, so she hid in the shadows inside the car.
The conversation ended there. When they arrived in the Skyline Parkway area, it was already close to eleven o'clock and Maggie had just opened the car door.
Harold spoke, "Do you have any sober cola at home?"
She was stunned for a moment before realizing, "I got one in my bag."
"I just want to drink coffee, do you have any?" he asked as if inquiring, but his tone did not allow anyone to refuse.
Maggie swallowed her fear and said yes.
She had just moved in and hadn't even picked up the water dispenser she ordered online from the post office. The elevator had been under maintenance since she arrived, but fortunately, she lived on the sixth floor, so it was not too high.
Harold followed her up the stairs. The space was dark and narrow, but his footsteps were steady, always echoing from a close distance behind her.
After Maggie opened the door, she felt a thud in her heart.
The sofa was cluttered with cola cans and her personal clothes, such as headbands, socks, and even program scripts, all in a mess.
After the divorce, she finally felt free to be herself.
At the Williams family, she was always on guard against Matt's mother coming over, and there was often a nanny to take care of the household chores, so she didn't have to do everything herself.
She stood in the doorway. "I was trying to tidy up..."
Harold didn't have much patience. He bypassed her and took a quick look around the house. His emotions didn't fluctuate much. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of the sofa. "I don't mind. I'll go make some coffee first."
Maggie murmured a low response and hurried into the kitchen. As she passed by, she caught a glimpse of a bright red thong hanging on the sofa leg, still with its tag attached.
She quickly grabbed it in her hand and rushed into the kitchen. Harold, with his long legs, felt cramped from sitting for too long. He took a step to stretch his legs, but was afraid of disrupting her organized chaos. All he did was move his leg slightly, causing a makeup palette on the corner of the table to wobble.
He reached out and steadied himself, standing by the window.
This one-bedroom apartment, other than being a bit messy, had a bright yellow wallpaper that glowed in the light, making it small yet cozy.
Hanging on the window frame was a semi-transparent light purple camisole, swaying in the wind, captivating the heart with a thump.