An older Frenchman lustered next to me without invitation. He looks like a page out of Vogue. He was wearing a white shirt with the emblem of Dolce & Gabbana stitched on the breast pocket. It was tightly tucked in under a brown belt and black pants that I can imagine also come with one large price tag. Given how tight that cotton shirt is, he is obviously fit. He is clean shaven with speckled black and grey hair. He must be in his mid-forties. A potent breath of cologne catches in the air. I can see James step forward from the corner of my eye as the French stranger takes the seat next to mine.
I look away uncomfortably letting him know that his approach was not welcome as I notice James spoke into his earpiece and Jonah circled round. I immediately felt on guard, afraid they were goi
