I look up at a girl standing beside the table. She has a skittish smile and glances over her shoulder to another girl, seated a few tables away from us.

“You’re Adams North,” she tells me.

When I nod, her eyes light up, her smile spreading before she turns to say something in Czech to her friend. Colton adjusts in his seat like he might need to tackle her, so I pat his leg. “Down, boy.”

The girl whips around, pen already in hand, as her friend rushes to her side. “Might we get your autograph?”

I pluck the pen from her, and the new chick steps forward enough to place a napkin on the table. After I sign it, I hand it back and grab the other napkin the first girl is wiggling in her hands.

“From signing IOUs to napkins,” Colton mutters under his breath. “So proud.”

The corner of my mouth tips up at that, and I shake my head, giving the girls a smile.

“You two catch the show last night?” I ask, sliding the napkin to the edge of the table.

“Yes,” the first one says, snatching it up. “You were incredible.”

“Wasn’t he?” Christian hands the menu off to the server, his eyes dancing over the girls, who seem more than happy with his attention. “Now, you just need to tell him how much you want to see an Of Men and Wolves documentary.”

My eyes snap to his, and he smirks with a shrug.

“What? If you won’t do it for me, maybe you’ll do it for them.”

“Oh my God,” the girl says before talking to her friend. Then they both nod adamantly with her adding, “That would be amazing.”

I try to keep my expression from faltering, not wanting them to think they’ve done anything wrong by playing into Christian’s hand.

“Well, we’ll see what we can do about that then.” I wink, and they giggle.

Christian talks them up a little longer before they grin at me and wander back to their table. I give them a little wave and then turn a scowl on Christian.

“Cheap shot.” My fist clenches under the table, and I notice Colt glance at my hand. We both know he’ll swing for me, not risk screwing up my hand. But something about the idea of punching Christian in his smug face is incredibly appealing at the moment.

“It’s business.” He pauses, seeing the server bringing his scotch. He waits for him to drop it off and then sits forward again, dropping his voice low. “Be pissed at me personally all you want, Foster. But you and I both know this is the best move professionally for every single one of us.”