Chapter 908: Susan’s Response

Susan concealed her suspicion, saying, "Easy on the wine. We'll have plenty of opportunities to drink later. Tonight isn't necessary."

Clara nearly cried out. She'd plied Susan with drinks in an effort to get her to drink water, and the near-failure made her nauseous. Susan's refusal stung.

Clara picked up her glass, insisting, "But that's for later. Now, a toast to you. I know there have been conflicts, but they were solely job-related; nothing personal. Miss Phillips, if you won't drink to that, I'll assume you're dissatisfied with my work."

Susan hesitated. Refusal in front of everyone would suggest internal company strife. She raised her glass.

Clara’s excitement was palpable. "Cheers," she exclaimed. She started to sip.

"Wait," Susan interrupted.

Clara felt her patience fraying.

"Since you're so sincere," Susan said bluntly, "a glass of water seems inadequate. Waiter."

A waiter approached respectfully.

"Pour me a glass of wine, please," Susan requested.

Clara's face flushed crimson, her fury evident to the other diners. She trembled with barely controlled rage.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked, concerned. "Is something wrong? Too much wine?"

"No," Clara said, forcing composure. Losing control would ruin her plan, and she wouldn't humiliate herself in public.

She rose. "Excuse me, I need the restroom."

"Shall I accompany you? You don't look well," Susan offered.

"No, thank you."

Clara stormed into the restroom and let out a scream. She yearned to strangle Susan; that woman would pay for tonight's humiliation.

While Clara composed herself, Susan, in the dining hall, felt a surge of satisfaction. She'd easily provoked Clara. Then, she eyed her untouched water. Clara must have tampered with it. In the past, she wouldn't have worried, assuming no one would harm her. But Henry's betrayal had changed her.

Clara, having so readily spread a false rumor about her and Manuel, was capable of anything.

Susan switched their glasses. She wanted to see what tricks Clara would attempt.

Ten minutes later, Clara returned, seemingly calmer.

Susan admired her composure. "Are you alright?" she asked, a touch sarcastically.

Clara almost erupted, seeing Susan’s face. She secretly clenched her fists, reminding herself to remain calm.

"I'm fine. A little dizzy, but better now. I'm sorry."

"No worries," Susan said, smiling. "I drink often, and I know how easily one gets tipsy. Let's stop here. Your dedication is admirable, but your health matters most."

This was not what Clara wanted to hear; it only fueled her anger. Of course, Susan wasn't genuinely concerned; it was a prelude to her next move.

"Didn't you just toast me?" Susan asked.

Clara gritted her teeth and picked up her glass. She’d promised a toast.

Susan took the glass. "Sometimes, alcohol isn't necessary. I appreciate your sentiment. Let's drink water. We can do the wine another time."

Clara was surprised. Before she could react, Susan handed her a glass, holding another herself.

"Water instead of wine," Susan stated.

Clara's heart pounded. Moments ago, she'd considered giving up in the restroom. Now, opportunity presented itself.

A sly smile played on her lips. Susan, you're so naive, she thought. Don't blame me for this!

"Okay. I drank too much and threw up. Thank you for your consideration, Miss Phillips."

Susan chuckled. Clara’s words confirmed her suspicions.

They clinked glasses. Clara drained her water; Susan followed suit. Clara's mood brightened, and her demeanor softened.

Susan continued to enjoy her meal, ignoring Clara's shifting moods.

The dinner ended late. Clara, along with several others, was passed out on the table.

"Thank you, Miss Phillips, for attending," the event organizer said.

"My pleasure, Mr. Hale. Everyone worked hard; go home early."

"Let me send you home," he offered.

"No thanks, my driver's waiting."

"Take care, Miss Phillips."

Susan nodded, then turned to Tammy. "Help Clara."