Guess that's just marriage at this age. He thought.

Half an hour Later, one by one, the guys got the dreaded calls from their wives, demanding they come home. With their buddies, they felt pretty good about themselves, but once on the line with the wives, they treaded carefully.

“Just a quick drink with friends, love. No need to stress."

"Yeah, it was James' idea. Want me to film it?"

"Chill, honey. Even Leonel's here, and his wife aren't checking in. It's all good. I'll explain when I'm home, promise.”

The guy promised, but once off the line, he apologized, “Sorry, folks. The wifey's giving me the hook. Have to keep the peace at home, you know? Cheers, though. Let's do this again sometime."

Everyone chuckled and one by one, they left.

Only James lingered, too sloshed to stand. His missus rang too. Drunk as a skunk, he clung to Leonel, slurring, "Nah, mate, I'm staying. I did my bit for the project tonight. She'll get it.”

Leonel gently tapped James' cheek, retorting, "Your missus is knocking. Plus, I am not into guys-especially drunk ones. It's like talking to a brick wall."

In stumbled James’ wife with a posh upbringing, tender skin, and curves to match. She apologized, “Mr. Douglas, sorry about James. Bit carried away, he was. I'll drag him home and have him ring you an apology tomorrow, sober-Like.”

Leonel nodded. “Sure thing. You take care of him."

With farewells exchanged, they left.

Silence filled the room. Leonel slumped on the couch, surveying the wreckage.

Everyone's wives had called-except for his. He had free rein.

He wiped his brow.

The club manager approached, offering, "Mr. Douglas, do you need anything?"

It took a moment for Leonel to catch on.

The manager was suggesting an escort.

Leonel shielded his eyes with a chuckle. “Nah, skip the girl part. Just bring me two finer bottles of red."

The manager nodded.