You see how Candy is? You came to the door, she didn’t answer it, so you had to let yourself in. We had to serve ourselves coffee, because she was busy taking cle**age selfies. She’s terrible, since she’s relatively new, and by the time I get her trained properly, she’ll be quitting to, yanno, f**k me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Poor guy. These are really relatable problems you have.”

He grinned. “They’re about as relatable as your problems, my friend. Hot, barely legal blonde stalking you, obsessed with your dick.”

I cringed inwardly. He had a point. Sadly, jaded as he was, he almost always did.

“Candy!” he shouted.

She came sauntering back in with a smile. “What, babe?”

“I was just telling Dair about that private Facebook group. It’s called Turner the Tyrant or something. Tell me the truth. Are you in that group?”

“Yep.” She looked pretty smug about it. “Those women go off about you on the daily.”

He grinned like it made him happy. “Please give them a message for me. I don’t give two, scratch that, I do not give one solitary f**k if you all want to vent about me together.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Your last assistant, Coffee . . . ” she began.

I had to blink a few times at that name.

“ . . . just did a post about the size of your dick,” she continued. “She hates your guts, but she’s doing you a service. She said you were nine inches hard.” She held up her arm, making a big circle with the fingers of one hand. “And thick. I called bullshit. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

I just about choked on the sip of coffee I’d just taken.

What the f**k? The sad thing was, this was a pretty average interaction for them. I was starting to think he just kept an assistant around for entertainment purposes. Candy certainly never seemed to do any actual work.

“You trying again to get me to show you my dick?” he asked her.

“You afraid to show it to me?”

He waved her off. “Go ask Coffee, if you want to know. You won’t be seeing it, not while you work for me.”

“Tyrant,” she muttered.

“But for the record, I think Coffee was doing me a disservice. I’d say it’s nine and a half inches hard.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention on me, which was not an improvement.

She sat down next to me on the sofa I was sprawled out on, getting way too close.

“He gets off on being withholding,” she told me, her hand on my thigh.

She pressed her big, hard, fake tits against my side as she leaned in close to whisper loudly, “I’m hoping you like to get off on something else.”

Fuck.

I was so sexually frustrated that I almost considered it, but I didn’t actually want her so much as relief and distraction, and, illogical or not, it felt wrong, and I felt guilty for entertaining it for even a millisecond.

“I’m with someone,” I said, and even I didn’t know if that was a total lie.

I preferred to think of it as a slight exaggeration.

“I’m cool with that,” Candy purred. “She can join us.”

“On that note, I think it’s time for me to go,” I said, standing abruptly.

“I’ll walk you out,” Turner said, laughter in his voice. “Candy, back off. You’re scaring him. He’s old school.”

I didn’t look back to see how she responded to that.

“God, she’s aggressive,” I said. It wasn’t a compliment.

“It’s that generation. The gender roles are reversing. They come after us now.”

I shook my head. I was too old for this shit.

“Coffee?” I asked as we moved through his house. “Is that really someone’s name?”

“The name I gave her. I name them all. Coffee got the name because she actually makes decent coffee. Damn, I miss her. Candy doesn’t even know how to work the machine.”

I laughed. The bastard kind of deserved to have to make his own coffee.

“Oh, man, I almost forgot to tell you,” he called out when I’d reached my car. “That pool party next week—the one I finally got you to agree to come to—I just found out Tammy is piggy backing her way into it, going as the plus one to one of my friends. How do you want me to handle it? Should I ban her? It’s up to you. I never liked her, anyway.”

I found myself blissfully unaffected by this. I waved a careless hand in the air. “It’s up to you. I don’t have a preference. I don’t really care if she comes or not. She’s unpleasant, but I’m past caring about that. Not my problem anymore.”

“Her new man won’t be there, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not particularly. She’s way more likely to hit on me if he’s not around.”

“That’s right. You hit that several times after she left. How long after? Was there overlap with your Iris?”

“No, no overlap. Several months gap, actually.”

“But you did screw Tammy after you were separated, right?”

I flushed. I might have admitted this to him when we’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk a few weeks ago. “Yeah. Barely.”

“I get it, man. It was like an angry revenge screw, right? You stuck it to the bitch that stuck it to you, and as a bonus, you got to cuckold her new man, just like he’d done to you. A bit of tit for tat.”