Rafael's POV
I crossed my legs and leaned back on the curved black leather sofa, crossing my arms and closing my eyes because someone was truly messing with my patience. How dare a leech like him be late when he had an appointment with me?
The soft saxophone playing from the mellow vinyl calmed my nerves a bit, smoothing the edges of my irritation.
"Sir, is the room temperature to your liking?" The bar manager's heavy voice made my eyelids lift. He placed a cup of espresso and the pastry I ordered on the table.
I simply nodded.
"It's because there's no guest here at this hour. So please tell me if you want me to adjust the temperature."
I glanced around, and no one else was here.
But then again, this private bar wasn't the kind of place people casually used for meetings in the late afternoon.
Still, it was odd. A well-known place like this shouldn't have been this empty.
"It's fine. I won't be long anyway."
