Hadley and Ellis exchanged a brief greeting before letting go of each other’s hands.

Just then, Ellis’s phone rang.

“Excuse me.” He gave Hadley a polite nod and turned away to take the call.

“Hello? Yes… I’ve arrived…”

Seeing that he had business to handle—and now that she had pointed him in the right direction—Hadley quietly stepped back and made her way back into the house.

“Alright,” Ellis said into the phone as he glanced up, watching her walk away.

“Mr. Gomez!” Someone called out nearby, waving as they approached.

Ellis shifted his attention, ended the call, and moved toward the man.

“Mr. Gomez, you’re here! Finally. We’ve been looking everywhere. Please, come with me.”

“Sure.”

Hadley heard the commotion and glanced over her shoulder.

If he’d been invited here, Ellis must hold some importance in Srixby. Still, she couldn’t recall ever hearing of him.

Good thing someone had shown up to receive him; if not, it would have reflected poorly on the Flynn family.

That evening, Eric and Ernest were nowhere to be found. They were both tied up with work.

As usual, Hadley joined Nyla, along with Locke and Joy, for dinner. Luckily, the kids and Nyla went to bed early, leaving Hadley with a rare moment of quiet.

After a shower and some time to unwind, she got ready for bed. It was nearly ten when Eric and Ernest finally returned.

Their faces were flushed, and they smelled strongly of alcohol. Their steps were unsteady.

“Mr. Flynn, Mr. Scott,” Kira greeted them at the door, her nose wrinkling.

“That smell… Come on, sit down and take a rest.”

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Hadley came down the stairs, catching the scent from several feet away. She frowned.

“How much did you drink?”

“Not much!” Ernest waved a hand, grinning at her.

“Just a little!”

Hadley glanced at Kira. If this was “a little,” she didn’t want to see what “a lot” looked like.

Kira sighed.

“We’ll get you something, or you’ll wake up with a headache. There’s still work to do tomorrow.” Shaking her head, she turned to give the staff instructions.

Suddenly, Ernest’s eyes widened, and he rushed toward the bathroom.

“Ernest!” Hadley jumped and hurried after him.

The door was open. He was bent over the toilet, throwing up. Afterward, he looked drained, but the worst seemed to have passed.

Hadley handed him a tissue.

“Thank you,” Ernest murmured.

Hadley helped him back to the living room, steadying his arm as they walked. She eased him onto the sofa, but her patience had run thin.

“I don’t care if you’re blowing off steam or just trying to feel better—but you can’t keep doing this. You’re not twenty anymore.”

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