Under Ryder Sharp's scrutiny, Sydney Sawyer appeared as steady as a rock—calm and composed—but was panicking on the inside. She picked up her glass and took a few tactical sips of water.
Just as she was wondering how to respond, someone's phone rang.
It was Ryder Sharp's!
He took out his phone, glanced at the caller ID, and answered, "Hello, Mr. Shaw."
Sydney Sawyer was saved. She secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sharp, what is the meaning of this?"
Donovan Sheridan's voice was so loud that even Sydney Sawyer could hear the man's exasperated and furious voice coming from the receiver.
"What did I do?"
"You stripped my clothes off."
"You were throwing a drunken fit in the middle of the night, sprawled on the hotel floor, performing dry land swimming for me. Did you really think your clothes would still be wearable?"
'Dry land swimming?'
An image immediately formed in Sydney Sawyer's mind, and she couldn't help but laugh out loud.
