I Paid A Billionaire For A Hook Up by RCBRIE15

Alisa

It was already eight o'clock when I ran to the pub. I was out of breath as I gave Mary the gift and told her happy birthday. 

Perhaps I was the last to arrive because the room was full of people. However, there was still an empty seat next to Mary and I quickly sat down.

“Come in and drink three glasses, come out and drink seven glasses, Alisa, drink quickly. We've been waiting for you for almost an hour.” One of Mary's friends spoke up.

“She hasn't eaten anything yet.” Mary glared at the man who had just spoken.

“It's okay, just follow the old rules, I'm late so I'll be punished.”

After speaking, I poured myself three glasses of wine and drank them all. 

Today, I was just informed by my manager that I was honored to be on the promotion list. Therefore, I am very happy.

Every two years, this supermarket, department store, and convenience store system will select outstanding employees and submit them to superiors for approval to become managers or deputy managers of newly opened stores.

My tolerance for alcohol is not low, but maybe because I was hungry and tired and drank a lot of alcohol, I quickly saw one person become two people.

“Alisa, please eat some food.” Mary quickly took a bowl of crab soup for me and said.

I took it, and ate it all in one gulp, my ears were ringing but I could also hear that the girl was scolding her friend, the man who told me to drink three glasses of wine.

“I'm going to the bathroom for a moment and then I'll be back.” I smiled then stood up and left the room.

I felt very tired, I silently blamed myself for not knowing how to control myself. 

My head was spinning as if I was on a Ferris wheel and my vision was limited. Luckily I still found my way to the toilet.

After vomiting for a long time, I felt less uncomfortable in my stomach. 

I miss Ryan again, every time I have a stomach ache, he will buy me medicine, cook me porridge, and rub my belly all night.

“This man, why did you go through the women's restroom? Pervert.”

I had just finished washing my face, looked up, and saw the silhouette of a man reflected in the mirror, so I scolded him. 

I hate perverts who specialize in harassing women. If they want women, they should go to red light areas, very legal, without worrying about infectious diseases.

The man didn't speak, grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the restroom and showed me the drawing posted on the wall. I obediently followed his finger and looked at that drawing for a long time.

“Hey lady, do you see anything?” His deep, husky voice rang in my ears, it sounded so soothing that it made me want to sleep.

“See, a human being.” I nodded and replied.

“Male or female?” The man continued to ask.

“Female.” I continued to answer.

“Are you nearsighted? Obviously, it's male.” He hissed.

“Are you blind or what? Obviously, it's female.” I asked back.

The man showed me the drawing next to it and told me I was the one who went to the wrong bathroom.

He said that drawing was a girl with two pigtails and wearing a skirt, while this drawing was a man wearing long pants and short hair.

“Hey, look at me, I'm also wearing long pants and my hair is short, so I'm a man? Who says women can't wear pants? Are pants only made for men to wear?”