Tonight.
Because he’s not taking my wifeanywhere.
“I guess we still have no resolution on the home front, then?” Fletch’s stare warms the side of my face. “It’s Friday, and she left Tuesday. That’s only three days, but I swear to Christ, it feels like this shit has been going on for a month already.”
“I’m working on a resolution.” I keep my tone flat. My eyes on my screen. My whole fucking life hums along in a holding pattern until Cordoza says I can do otherwise. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” At LindonTsiklauri’s email confirmation for tonight’s meeting, I lock my phone and look up at my partner. “You ask Fifi out yet?”
He barks out a laugh that has Officer Clay’s eyes swinging across. Dropping his feet and sitting tall in his chair, he opens his top drawer and tosses the tennis ball inside for another time. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Why not? You like prying into my shit. Why isn’t this a two-way street?”
“Bitch, it is! You’ve been so up in my business foryearsnow, I’m not sure the last time I had privacy.” He shoves up from his chair and leaves it spinning as he takes off toward the war room.
So I stand and follow.
“Things seem to have calmed down between you and Fifi.” Iclose the door behind me and lift my brows, surprised at Fletch’s nervous pacing. He’s freaking out and wants no witnesses. “What?” I glance around the room. “What’s the problem?”
“There’s no problem.” He snatches up a marker and stops in front of the board we’ve been working Morty Presley’s case on.
I can’t say I’ve tried all that hard while I’ve had other things on my mind.
So sue me.
“Presley’s wife said he and the daughter’s boyfriend?—”
“Yeah, we’ll talk about that later.” I search his honeycomb eyes. “What’s up with the Fifi thing?”
“What Fifi thing? There is no Fifi thing. Also, her name is Seraphina. She doesn’t like it when people call her Fifi.”
“Eh.” I pull out a chair and drop. I’m so fucking exhausted, my knees knock the moment I stop walking. “She doesn’t like it when we call her Fifi. We don’t like it when she quits her job and forces Minka to get used to a new assistant. It is what it is.”
“What do you care about Minka’s assistant situation?” He turns from the board and glowers. “You broke up with her, remember?”
My smile, small as it was, drops away. “I didn’tbreak upwith my wife, dickhead. Taking a couple of days apart isnotthe same as ending a relationship.”
“You sure?” He sets his hands on his hips, challenging me right back. “I caught Jada with her skirt around her hips and another cop enjoying what wasn’t his. I wanted to kill him, you told me to walk away and cool it. That started out astaking a couple of days apart, and ended up here.” He brings his shoulders up, shrugging. “We divorced, she’s dead, my daughter’s askingcrazy questions like ‘why didn’t I get to grow in Fifi’s tummy, Daddy?’ and now I’m sweating.” He shows me his hands. “I have sweaty palms!”
“That explains the jittery weirdness, huh?” I refuse to discuss divorce and death, because eventhinkingthose words and applying them to my relationship givesmesweaty palms. “Does Fifi know about Moo’s question?”
“No!” He throws his hands toward the ceiling. “Are you insane? Sera is a slippery eel as it is. Can barely keep her in one place long enough to get a sniff of her pretty hair. I tell her about my daughter wanting an up-close and personal tour of her fucking stomach, and she’ll leave scorch marks on the floor on her way out. Then Mia’s little heart will break,again,and it’ll be my fault,again.”
“Things are going well, then.” I drag the heel of my palm across my aching chest and think of yesterday. From bullets and bruises, to Minka laying her cheek right over my heart. And then I think of today, and Harrison’s updates: she’s looking for her next target, and entirely too fucking comfortable playing up her role as the damsel in need. “I could babysit for a night. Ya know, if you wanted to ask Fifi out to dinner.”
Fletch scoffs.
“I mean it. Mia loves being at the house, and it’s not like she won’t have Cato there, too. And Steve. And Mary.” And Minka… maybe… if she can hold on just another day or two in this hell I’ve created for us both. “You deserve a night out, and?—”
“Dude. Cato asked if he could formally andliterallyadopt my daughter. Like…” His eyes widen with desperation. “He wasn’t even kidding. Offered me a cool million dollars to sell her to him.”
“Well…” I scratch my jaw, chuckling. “He loves her, so…”
“I’m not without babysitters, Arch! It would be easy to have someone take care of her for the night. The problem is I don’t have a date, and Sera has made her wishes clear. She’s not crossing that picket line ever again. She doesn’t want me. She wants my daughter.”
“You sure about that?” I settle back in my chair and bring my right foot up, resting it on my left knee. “I have it on good authority Fifi was certifiably losing her fucking marbles at the mayor’s office when she heard about our…” I shrug. “Incident.”
“Incident,” he scoffs. “The one where you ate three slugs?”
“I didn’teatthem. I walked into them. There’s a difference. And uninterested women don’t freak out on the mayor when a cop gets shot on the job. She’s cautious, because things already got a little messy between you. But she’s not uninterested.”
