Raúl’s eyes slid to him; he shrugged, took a slow sip of his drink, then finally said, “Got caught fucking one of the hostesses in a supply closet.”
“No!” Henry half gasped, half laughed. “That fucking asshole.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Adrian’s wife is one of the founding members of the group,” Raúl said to me. “I’m guessing that didn’t go over well.”
Yup. That’ll do it.
“Can’t believe he’d do that. How old is he now?” Sebastian asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Kind of hypocritical, but okay.
“Going on forty, maybe,” Raúl said.
“Can you imagine being so horny you’d bang one of your employees at work? In a fuckingcloset?”
A laugh caught behind my teeth as I bit the inside of my cheek.
Sebastian cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. It was just a second, but it was enough for me to catch his eyes flicking to mine—and that tiny curve of his lips.
“He’s a businessman with a reputation to protect,” Raúl said. “He should know better.” He shrugged. “Maybe if he was younger, but to get that primitive?”
“Kinda hot when you think about it. Not the cheating—just the I-have-to-have-you-now energy,” Henry said, sipping his drink.
Sebastian’s eyes met mine again, and we both looked away quickly. He coughed into his hand, and I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning.
“Is she younger than him?” I asked, keeping my tone innocent.
Sebastian shifted again as I kept my eyes locked on Raúl.
“In her twenties,” Raúl said.
“Maybe he just wanted to prove he could keep up with her,” I offered.
Sebastian tapped my foot under the table, like he was telling me to behave. I took a big gulp of my drink to hide my laugh.
“Forty isn’t old,” Sebastian said defensively. “There are plenty of people who have better stamina when they’re older.”
Henry and Raúl looked at him like he’d grown two heads.
“Have you seen Adrian?” Henry asked. “The guy walks around with an inhaler.”
“Maybe a midlife crisis then,” I teased.
Another tap on my foot, harder this time.
“That sounds more likely,” Raúl said.
“Maybe trying to prove something? Fucking someone against a wall isn’t that easy,” I said with a sigh. “Reeks a little of overinflated ego.”
Sebastian let out an offended scoff. But that curve at the corner of his mouth? Worse now. And aimed right at me.
“Actually, it doesn’t sound like him,” he said. “So it was probably the twenty-something waitress?—”
“Hostess,” Henry corrected.
“Who clearly has no impulse control. An affliction of the young.”
