Silence filled the room. Leonel slumped on the couch, surveying the wreckage.
Everyones wives had called-except for his. He had free rein.
He wiped his brow.
The club manager approached, offering, Mr. Douglas, do you need anything?
It took a moment for Leonel to catch on.
The manager was suggesting an escort.
Leonel shielded his eyes with a chuckle. Nah, skip the girl part. Just bring me two finer bottles of red.
The manager nodded.
Got it. Well tidy up or shift you to a cleaner room. This ones a mess.
Agreeing, Leonel relocated to a neater spot, nursing his drink solo.
He was drinking alone.
Occasionally, hed glance at his phone, wondering when Alexis might ring.
If she didnt bother, he figured he might just crash here. Clearly, she wasnt missing him.
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His bad mood was a slippery slope to getting plastered.
Before downing both bottles, Leonel was already tipsy, slouching on the couch, squinting against the harsh light.
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In walked a slender silhouette.
Mr. Douglas?
The womans voice was gentle and surprised.
Respecting his status, she kept her distance, crouching slightly. Mr. Douglas, what brings you here? Are you alright? Need me to call someone for you?
Whos this now? He thought.
Leonel blinked, his eyes focusing on a young, striking face, oddly familiar yet elusive.
What was it?
In his drunken haze, he struggled to place her.
His brain went blank. He stared at the young woman in front of him.