"Any ingredients at his place?"

Sanford answered immediately, "None!"

So, she was heading home to gather soup ingredients.

Sanford was thrilled. A sense of relief washed over him.

He helped Brian inside, depositing him onto the sofa.

“I'm spent. Brian, how do you plan on showing your gratitude?"

Brian, whose senses were dulled by the alcohol forced upon him by Sanford, squinted in confusion.

Sanford leaned in close, propping an arm on the sofa.

“Play the drunken fool, then make your move. Once you sleep together, she'll be putty in your hands."

Sanford's plot was simple.

If Brian and Rosalynn were to have sex, any discord between them would be resolved.

After all, no woman would turn down an opportunity with a man of Brian's stature.

Brian remained silent, massaging his temples as he attempted to sit up.

Footsteps echoed from the doorway.

Sanford shoved Brian back down.

“Stay put. Keep up the act."

Rosalynn walked in to find Brian sprawled on the sofa, Sanford hovering over him.

The sight of the two men in such close quarters ignited her imagination.

"You two..."

Rosalynn cast them a quizzical look.

Was Brian playing for both teams?

Sanford sprang to his feet.