Although her friends tried to hold her back, Clara stomped over to where Elian was clasping Mr. White’s shoulder and laughing at something he said. He was wearing a perfectly fitted pair of dress pants and a deep olive-green shirt button down shirt opened at the collar, a smattering of chest hair teasing her as she got closer. Damn him for being gorgeous.
“What the hell are you doing here!” she shrieked at him as turned slowly to look at her.
Elian took her finger poking in his chest and lowered her hand to her waist. “Hello Clara, nice to see you as well.” He motioned to Mr. White. “Have you met my friend Whitey?”
“No,” she clenched her fist at her side torn between slugging his handsome face and lunging at him to kiss him. Neither seemed appropriate given the circumstances. “Why are
