An overly intoxicated Daisy Ridley

"Whoa." Is all you can muster at the sight before you.

Inside the booth is a quite drunk Daisy Ridley, star of the new Star Wars trilogy. You can hardly believe it. Yet here she is, screaming incoherently at either the band on stage or the waitress, Tina, whom is trying to calm the starlet down.

"How many drinks has she had?" You ask both concerned at the young lady's condition but also angry at the possibility of your staff having over-served her.

"I swear I only brought one round of drinks for her and her friends." Tina responds knowing how serious you are about over-consumption. After all, your parents were killed by a drunk driver when you were 19.

"My opinion is someone spiked her drink." Tony chimes in, his calm demeanor providing you with an odd bit of comfort.

"Where are her friends now?" You ask.

"As far as I can tell, they left." He informs you.

"They left?!" You nearly shout.

"We aren't yet one hundred percent certain." Tony responds, his voice as calm as ever. "But based off Miss Tina's account of the situation, they were likely on a pub crawl and left without fully realizing the young lady's state of mind."

Tony's theory seems sound enough and he is probably correct. Still though, you find it quite irritating that a group of people would just leave someone behind without noticing. With that seemingly taken care of, you take a deep breath and turn your attention back to Daisy. After all, you can't just leave her like this.

Here before you, uncontrollably giggling, is one of Hollywood's hottest actresses, both figuratively and literally. Though, in her current condition, she is barely able to think coherently let alone be of any help in figuring out what to do.

"If I may offer a suggestion?" Ingrid pipes up. With the wheels spinning in your mind, you nod for her to proceed. "What if we bring Miss Ridley upstairs so she can sleep off whatever it is that is affecting her?"

Speaking of what's affecting her, you look over to Tony about to ask but he nods in assurance. "We've already collected samples of all the drinks in the room and they should be sent out as soon as possible."

One of the first things Mr. Edwards taught you was to always be prepared for the worst in people when **** is involved. As such, one of your best decisions was to have an independent lab on call in cases such as this.

Then the first part of Ingrid's question hits you. Upstairs? That's where you live. Your own fortress of solitude. For the most part, you keep that area strictly to yourself. Not even Tony has been up there.

"Why upstairs?" You ask.

"For starters," Ingrid begins. "We have no idea what is wrong with her. We also don't have any way of contacting someone to come get her. Even if we did, there is no way of being sure what happened doesn't get out to the media. It'd be bad for business if word got out that a major Hollywood star was here and was **** without her knowledge. And finally, you know as well as any of us that the safest place for her is upstairs."

You did know it. You hated that it was true. You also disliked how much Ingrid seemed to enjoy proving her point.

"Fine." You concede. "But how do we get her up there without anyone seeing her?"

Ingrid wrinkles her nose in a sexy way as she ponders your question. When she figures it out, you can almost see the lightbulb turn on in her mind.

"Patrick?" She calls out.

"Yes ma'am?" A voice bellows from behind the door.

"How many people are in the hallway?"

Patrick is silent for a few moments before he yells back. "Twenty-two."

"Perfect." Ingrid smiles. "Patrick?"

"Yes ma'am?"

"Suites ten through twelve are empty tonight." She informs him. "Do me a favor and round up everyone and tell them they get free access to those suites and they also get a round of drinks on the house. Call it a prize for a lucky few. Please post two more security at the stairwell coming up here. Once the hall is clear, no one is to come back up for the rest of the night. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." Patrick confirms and you can vaguely hear him begin telling people about the good news.

"If it's all the same to you sir, I feel it would be quicker if Miss Tina and myself helped Patrick." Tony says. You acknowledge with a vague nod. He and Tina leave the suite.

Sensing your displeasure, Ingrid takes a seat beside you and wraps her arm around your shoulder.

"I realize how uncomfortable of a situation this is for you." She nearly whispers. "But it is the best course to take."

"I know." You admit. "I just hate shit like this, you know? Every effort we've made to ensure stuff like this doesn't happen yet it still does. Pisses me off."

"Me too."

The two of you remain silent while Daisy continues screaming down towards the stage. Luckily the music system is louder than she is otherwise she'd be creating quite the commotion.

Several minutes pass before a loud knock is heard at the door, signalling that the hallway has been successfully cleared.

You stand and walk towards Daisy.

"Miss Ridley? Could you come with me please?" You ask.

She looks at you, squinting in both confusion and intoxication. "Oh? Who are you?" She slurs.

"My name is William Carpenter." You answer. "I own this club. I'm afraid you've had too much to drink. I'm going to bring you somewhere to sleep it off. Okay?"

"I'm cold" She blurts out. Instinctively, you remove your jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. She hugs your jacket tightly and gives you a warm smile.

"Please come with me." You say as you gently grab her elbow and lift her to her feet.

Suddenly she falls back into her seat. "I don't feel so good. Why is the room spinning?" She then looks at you. "Oh, you're handsome."

"She's not going to be able to walk." Ingrid confirms the obvious.

Thinking quickly, you realize the best course of action is to carry her upstairs.

"Miss Ridley. I'm going to pick you up okay?" You inform her.

"Okay." She smiles unknowingly.

You gently wrap your right arm around her lower back while your left arm hooks her legs. In a swift motion you pick her up.

"WEEEE!!" She squeals in delight.

Ingrid hides a smile as she opens the door for you. Discreetly, you walk towards your office. Inside is the only internal entrance, an elevator, leading to your home upstairs.

On the way, Daisy lets out a big yawn. She then nuzzles her head into your neck. "Mmm, you smell good." She keeps moving slightly in your arms until you hear a small snore as she has passed out from whatever got into her system.

Once upstairs, you gently place her into your bed and cover her in a blanket.

What a night. You think to yourself before exiting your bedroom.