They gave me exactly four minutes.
Four minutes of Rory climbing me like a jungle gym that owed her money. Four minutes of Vanessa's shy smile as I asked about her new place, her cheeks going pinker than the paint on her new walls.
Four minutes of my women orbiting closer—touches on my arm, fingers brushing my back, the gravitational pull of a harem that hadn't been fed in days and was now exhibiting classic signs of starvation: dilated pupils, shallow breathing, and the subtle threat that if I didn't start distributing affection soon, someone was going to start biting.
Four minutes before Margaret and Patricia couldn't take it anymore.
"Eros." Margaret's voice cut through the noise. Polite. Controlled. "A moment?"
Patricia was already moving. Didn't wait for my answer. Just caught my elbow and steered me away from the group with the efficiency of a hospital administrator clearing a hallway—
"Ladies, I was in the middle of—"
"Now," Patricia said. A verdict.
