Chapter 166
Emma froze. "Yes... I was going to take Ms. Kennedy home myself... but Mr. Getty said..."
The rest of her words died in her throat as Kenneth's expression grew increasingly dark.
Had she really made a mistake?
Kenneth couldn't sit still. Without even grabbing his phone, he stood and headed for the door. This caught his colleagues' attention.
Emma cursed under her breath. Once a man's jealousy ignited, it burned no less fiercely than a woman's—and his rationality might even be weaker.
She hurried after him, blocking Kenneth in the hallway. "Where are you going?"
"To take her home."
This was the first time Emma had seen Kenneth with such a cold expression. It was a bit strange. "I'm advising you not to follow them right now."
"Why not?" Kenneth didn't understand.
Emma spoke earnestly. "Mr. Getty isn't some shameless scoundrel who'd take advantage of someone. If you go after them now, you're basically saying you don't trust Mr. Getty. Don't forget—you still work for the Getty Group."
Even if you're pursuing someone, you can't rashly offend your boss like this.
Kenneth said coolly, "Can you guarantee it?"
"I can." Emma didn't just trust Cedric—she trusted Josephine. If Josephine dared to drink at this kind of gathering, it ultimately meant she trusted everyone present.
She patted Kenneth's shoulder. "Trust me, don't make a scene right now. If you really like Ms. Kennedy, you need to play to her preferences. From what I've observed, Ms. Kennedy doesn't like impulsive men."
As a fellow woman, and with Emma and Josephine being especially close, Kenneth had no reason not to believe her.
He stared deeply at the empty end of the hallway. He'd chased too late—they were already gone.
He rubbed his forehead somewhat dejectedly. "Fine. Let's go back."
Watching his retreating figure, Emma sighed inwardly. Though she thought Kenneth was excellent—far surpassing most ordinary people—
Compared to Cedric...
His odds weren't great.
Meanwhile, the car was exceptionally quiet. The driver gripped the steering wheel, sneaking glances through the rearview mirror at the two people in the back seat.
Cedric leaned against the seat back, eyes gently closed. Josephine leaned against the window, sleeping. But even though the car drove smoothly, avoiding bumps, the glass felt cold to the touch.
After leaning against it for a while, Josephine grew uncomfortable and naturally tilted toward the other side, her head coming to rest directly on Cedric's shoulder.
The driver's grip on the steering wheel tightened.
Josephine was really bold—she actually dared to lean on Cedric's shoulder.
But what surprised him even more came next. Faced with the sudden weight on his shoulder, Cedric turned his head slightly, looking at the head leaning against him.
He said nothing. The car stayed quiet.
The driver's heart raced, terrified that Cedric might heartlessly push her aside.
Sure enough, Cedric slowly raised his hand.
Here it comes!
If Josephine got shoved aside, how should he explain it to her?
The driver's mind ran wild, but events didn't unfold as he'd imagined.
Cedric's hand settled on Josephine's head, drawing her closer against his shoulder, letting her lean more comfortably and sleep more deeply.
The driver's eyes widened.
The next second, Cedric lifted his gaze, meeting the driver's stolen glance in the rearview mirror. He said calmly, "Enjoying the view?"
"Not at all!" The driver didn't dare peek anymore, keeping his eyes straight ahead, gripping the wheel and staring fixedly at the road.
But inside, he was screaming.
Cedric had definitely fallen for her!
The car stopped at the villa entrance. Josephine remained lost in dreams. Cedric had no intention of waking her and simply carried her out.
His movements weren't particularly practiced—after all, he'd never really been around women before—but they were gentle enough. The person in his arms only furrowed her brows slightly before falling into a deeper sleep.
He carried her toward the villa.
The driver in the front seat watched Cedric's retreating back. Beyond shock, he had only one thought.
The Getty family was about to undergo a sea change.
When Josephine woke, she found herself lying on a large black bed. The bed was soft enough, but the scent lingering around her was somewhat unfamiliar.
She sat up, rubbing her head. The blanket slipped down, and that's when she discovered her clothes had been changed into a nightgown!
She sucked in a sharp breath.
She didn't like red wine, but her tolerance was decent. She'd drunk with clients before, but she'd never been as thoroughly wasted as last night—completely unconscious.
What exactly was the situation now?
She was in the middle of her breakdown when the bedroom door opened. Cedric leaned against the doorframe, his gaze settling on her. "I had the maid make some soup. It'll help with the headache."
Josephine clutched her hair, internally collapsing. Surely she hadn't gotten drunk and done something reckless?
Getting drunk and reckless was one thing, but with Cedric? Absolutely not!
She'd just climbed out of the Getty family pit. She definitely didn't want to fall back in.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm. "You brought me back last night?"
"Yes."
"Then... my clothes..." The words came with difficulty.
Cedric understood. He raised an eyebrow and suddenly walked toward her. With each step he took, Josephine's heart skipped a beat.
He stopped at the bedside, looking down at her. Sunlight fell from behind him, inexplicably carrying a hint of oppression. "What do you think?"
She didn't think jack!
Josephine complained furiously inside. If she could figure it out, she wouldn't need to ask! "I think... I probably changed them myself."
She looked up at him. The sunlight was somewhat blinding, making it hard to see the expression on Cedric's face. She didn't know if it was her imagination.
But he seemed to... smile?
Cedric's voice was calm and flat. "You were unconscious in the private room last night. Wanting to change clothes would have been quite the challenge."
So, there was only one possibility.
Josephine wanted to die a little, but she still wanted to make one last struggle. "I drank too much yesterday... I didn't do anything weird, did I?"
Seeing her look like she might shatter into pieces.
Cedric finally couldn't hold it in. He chuckled softly.
Josephine was baffled. "What are you laughing at? Did I really do something?"
She had zero memory of yesterday. Had she done something outrageous? She'd been drunk before—with Gideon, they'd always carried on for ages. The next day she'd wake up exhausted, with a splitting headache.
And according to Gideon, she'd been pretty forward.
Cedric suddenly raised his hand and gently tapped her on the head. Josephine's head bobbed, and she looked at him in confusion.
"Go take a shower and wash all that nonsense out of your head," he said.
Josephine covered her forehead. Whether it was that tap or not, her mind suddenly cleared. "I didn't change my clothes, did I?"
Cedric replied, "Then who changed them?"
Josephine lowered her eyes in thought for a moment. She quickly recalled something Cedric had said when he entered, and a theory formed in her mind.
"The maid changed them for me."