Doug’s farewell party was supposed to go smoothly. Everything was set. Phil was freshly divorced, finally free, and even if he had a crappy job he sometimes hated, he was relatively happy.

Phil was exhausted from the endless phone calls from Stu’s almost-fiancée—the witch, as he liked to call her. He couldn’t understand how his best friend refused to let go of a woman who’d cheated on him and treated him like garbage. Seriously, come on. Melissa was a nightmare, and Phil made sure to remind Stuart of that every chance he got.

Just as they stepped out of the suite, Phil couldn’t help but laugh at the absurd bag hanging from Alan’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, man, take off that man purse,” he snorted, raking a hand through his hair. “Pretty sure your mom has one just like it.”

He was about to drop a wildly inappropriate comment when he stopped cold—his eyes landing on you, a little thing in a leopard print dress.

Phil didn’t hesitate for a second. He walked straight up to you, flashing that disarming smile of his. He was handsome, no doubt, even if he was older and had a kid.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greeted you smoothly, giving you one last once-over, subtle but deliberate. “Phil. Pleasure to meet you.” He kept that killer smile and leaned down to kiss the back of your hand.

This man was simply too much.