Paul stroked the faux leather chair with a gleam in his eyes. It was every bit as good as their neighbor’s new office chair, if not better.
His wife approached him from behind and crossed her arms. “Paul, sweetie, do you really need that?”
“Huh?” It took him a second to understand what she’d said. “Oh, hi babe, yeah, I do. Can’t let George think he got the better of me.”
“Would it really kill you to not be in competition in something? George also thinks of his wife.”
“Cool. I think we need batteries.”
“You really have no idea.”