The curious looks coming his way annoyed him and he slapped the papers down with some irritation. “Shall we celebrate with drinks, gentlemen?” he asked, forcing the men to join him. No one had the courage to question him further, he was after all, the major stake holder.
But he felt Schwartz’s eyes watching him.
Later, after a couple of drinks, Schwartz brought up the subject again. Standing beside Gaston, he regarded his old time partner and said, ’One hell of a girl. Yours?’
There was no mistaking the meaning behind his words, Schwartz fancied her, alright.
Gaston grunted and downed his drink in a gulp. Wave upon wave of jealousy flooded him as he gulped another stiff drink, seething with rage. Damn the woman. Did she have to parade herself before his friends?
The crowd he moved about with didn’t hesitate in switching partners, hell, he thought, scratching his hair roughened chest, he had done it so many times, himself. His club was infamous for such trysts, he smiled cynically, which was one source of sure revenue. But while in the past, he would never have hesitated to talk about a woman freely, something about Jan brought out the devil in him: he wanted to keep her only for himself. Was it the total trust in her eyes when she breathed his name in the midst of their torrid lovemaking? Her innocence? Or the fact that she had borne his children…?