Murray's face was a mask of barely contained frustration and impatience.

He glanced at the clock. It was only 8 PM, yet his phone had been ringing off the hook at home-four or five times already. Three of those calls were from his mom, and the other one was from Millie. He figured she knew he wouldn't pick up after one try, which showed some restraint on her part.

Still, that hardly calmed his irritation, especially knowing an outsider was now living in his villa.

Cliff checked the time. "What, calling it a night already? It's still early."

Murray didn't respond. Cliff could tell, despite Murray's outward composure, he was on the verge of exploding, so he didn't push further-

"My driver's downstairs. I'll have him take you home."

"Thanks."

"All formal with me?" Cliff set down his beer. "Let me walk you out."

Murray waved him off. "Nah, keep the party going."

As Murray's figure receded into the distance, York couldn't help but chuckle, a mix of sympathy and schadenfreude in his laughter.

"Some guys hunt all day only to get pecked in the eye by the prey. Millie's really got a hold on him, huh?"

him some slack. He's probably not feeling

for a peanut, only to choke on that peanut. I heard Roseanne got into Kingswell University for grad school. She's all about cutting ties and hitting the books now..." "We even bet on how long Roseanne would keep up her

relationship of breakups and makeups,

up with six years, probably aiming for marriage

York couldn't respect

always running back at the slightest

manipulate two men and turn best friends into sworn enemies, now avoiding each other

"Why don't we call Corley Sullivan over now

shook his head. "You call him. What if Murray comes back and they run into each other? We'd have a volcanic eruption

pulled out

come

a deep

worries about bumping

"It's not about him."

was puzzled. "Then

it straight. No bars, no staying out late, no drinking unless

was baffled. "You okay?

replied, "I'm getting

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