Soaring (Magdalene #2)(96)

“I have a bell, you know,” I informed him acidly.

He moved in, his big body in motion meaning I had no choice but to get out of his way, so I did.

I watched him turn and did this shutting the door.

“Do you need something?” I asked.

“Washing your hair?” he asked back angrily.

“Yes,” I returned. “Though I haven’t gotten to that portion of my exciting evening yet. However, before I get to it, I’ll thank you not to bang on my door, which has beautiful stained glass in it that I very much like and would prefer it stays exactly how it is. So, in future, I’ll ask you to use the bell.”

He planted his hands on his hips, asking, “What’s this game, Amy?”

I crossed my arms on my chest and returned, “What game, Mickey?”

“Said I was comin’ over tonight, I’d bring dinner. And you got somethin’ up your ass and you’re dishin’ that shit to me for no f*ckin’ reason.”

“You did not say you were coming over. I asked when you had a free evening this week. I asked that yesterday morning. Since then, I’ve heard nothing from you.”

“Took a coupla hours to reply but I did and I said tonight and I’d bring dinner.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You did not.”

“Fuck,” he leaned back and threw out his hands, “I did.”

I glared at him while stomping to my kitchen. I had to stop glaring at him to yank my phone out of the drawer and pull up his text string.

I recommenced glaring at him when I stomped back to him, shoving my phone his way.

“You…did…not.”

He aimed his angry scowl at my phone, his eyes narrowed, then he dug out his phone.

I crossed my arms on my chest as he ran his thumb over the screen for some time before he muttered, “Fuck, texted that to Janice Quiller.”

My stomach started roiling.

“And who’s Janice Quiller?” I asked.

Mickey looked at me. “Client of Ralph’s.”

“Oh yes?” I asked disbelievingly.

His expression turned stormy. “Yeah, Amelia. She is. And she replied she didn’t understand, and I didn’t understand what she didn’t understand so I texted her back something about the job, which was what we had been texting about. Answered her question. The texting died and I didn’t realize I’d f*cked up.”

Well, clearly there was a mistake and it was an innocent one.

But somehow, that didn’t make me any less angry.

Mickey wasn’t either.

I could tell when he said, “And not real big on you insinuating that Janice could be somethin’ else to me.”

“If that’s the case then perhaps you’ll take this moment to share where things stand with you and Bridget.”

“Bridget?” he asked, looking perplexed, like he’d never heard that name in his life.

God!

Really?

“Yes,” I returned. “You see, you made it very clear when it became clear something might be happening between you and me that I needed to get rid of Bradley. It was uncomfortable and I’d already planned to do that, but just in case you have any ongoing queries about that, I’ll confirm that I ended things with Bradley. Now I’d like to know where things stand with you and Bridget.”

“Went out with her twice,” he told me.

“Is that your answer?” I pushed.

“Not sure what more you need,” he shot back.

“Are you going out with her again?” I explained, and his stormy expression turned thunderous.

“You really askin’ me that shit?”

“We’ve been on a date, Mickey,” I replied. “I’m rusty with this but I do think it’s within your rights not to want exclusive at this early juncture. However, I do believe it’s within my rights, if you don’t want that, not for you to expect that from me.”

He lifted up a hand, snapped loudly twice and clipped, “Reality check, babe. You are not standin’ here havin’ it out with your ex. I’m,” he leaned toward me, “Mickey.”

I felt my eyes get wide in preparation for my head to explode.

“Did you just snap at me?”

“Yeah, seein’ as you were in the middle of a flashback, havin’ a conversation with a guy who’d be * enough to make you end somethin’ with a douche so he could start somethin’ with you at the same time carryin’ on with somebody else. That guy not bein’ me.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m troubling you with this conversation, however, I’ll make my apologies reminding you that we haven’t actually had this conversation or many conversations at all since we never see each other.”

“Amy, I work.”

“I’m aware of that, Mickey.”

“Got kids,” he went on.

“That hadn’t escaped me either.”

“And give my time to the department when I got it to give.”

“Which is a lot,” I noted.

The thunderous went out of his face and angry, surprised wariness slid in when he asked, “That a problem for you?”

I shook my head incredulously. “You doing what you’ve always wanted to do?”