Page 11 of Cartel Rose (Jorge)

A

I have no meetings in the morning. I just don’t need him to believe I want to see him first thing. I won’t appear eager. I’ll appear busy but willing to fit him in.

Good God. That sounds dirty.

But true.

Fuck my life.

“Hallo, mein Liebling.” Hello, my darling.

“Hallo, Bastian.”

My boyfriend wraps his arm around my waist, and I lean in for his kiss. It’s open-mouthed but appropriate for public. I rest my head against his chest, and after a long day, it’s familiar. I relax, and he gives me a squeeze. He adjusts my hood against the wind as we pull apart.

“How was your day? I missed you last night.” Bastian slides his hand into mine after he opens the restaurant door.

I wait until he steps beside me before I answer. “The same as usual.”

“Too long and too stressful. What did your father do today?”

I shoot him a rueful expression and am about to shake my head when I recognize a face among the diners.

What the fuck is he doing here?

Jorge.

Who the fuck is she?!

What the hell was that visceral reaction?

As though he senses me, Jorge looks up from his dinner partner and meets my gaze. He nods and shoots me a quick smile before dismissing me and turning his attention back to his—date. I can only see the woman’s profile, but she’s stunning.

Sophisticated.

Clearly wealthy.

Beautiful.

And older.

I didn’t take Jorge for the cougar type. Then again, I didn’t take him for the flirtatious type either. But those emails…

If he’s with someone, he definitely shouldn’t have sent ones that provocative.

And you have a boyfriend and loved every minute.

I turn away from Jorge and return my focus to my boyfriend.

Yes, boyfriend. Fucking remember that.

“How was your day,mein Schatz?” My sweetheart.

“Eventful.”

I barely hear what Bastian’s telling me as the maître d’ leads us to a table. He takes us directly past Jorge and the gorgeous woman who’s laughing at something he just said. My fucking luck. Our table is next to his.

Fuck my life.