beyond mad.
He was well on his way to pissed.
“Ms. Walker.”
She jumped so suddenly that she dropped the container of whatever she was carrying. The sight of meat loaf and mashed potatoes splattered all over the pavement in front of her wasn’t enough to take the edge off Anthony’s anger.
But the expression of bewildered dismay as she looked down at the now inedible food was.
“Well, there goes dinner.”
The quietly uttered statement was made all the more impactful from the lack of moping in it. She was just stating the sad fact as though it was her lot in life…to have strange men sneaking up on her and to have her dinner turned upside down in a dark alley.
And for that matter, it was nearly two a.m. She hadn’t had dinner yet?
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until she cut him with an irritated look. “Surely you’ve worked a double in your day, Captain. Did you always find time to eat?”
He bit the inside of his cheek as he moved closer to her, ignoring the fact that it had started to rain harder. “Actually, it doesn’t really matter how many hours captains work. We don’t get paid overtime.”
Now why had he gone and said that? What was wrong with him?
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. What about before your illustrious captain title? Did you get overtime then?”
“Yes,” he said quietly, watching in annoyance as she knelt to pick up the food. “God, Maggie, you can’t eat that now.”
She glanced up, startled, perhaps by the use of her first name, before annoyance resettled on her pretty features. “I’m not that hard up, Captain. I was just going to clean it up and put it in the Dumpster so Carlos doesn’t step in my mess when he leaves.”
“Who’s Carlos?” He knelt beside her, taking the two ends of the plastic takeout container from her and using it to scoop the still warm leftovers onto one side.
“My fry chef,” she replied, letting him clean up. “Well, not my fry chef. But he’s my friend. He worked a double as well, so he’ll be leaving soon.”
“You should have waited for him to walk you.” He walked the couple steps to the Dumpster and tossed the leftovers over the edge, careful not to let anything splatter onto his rain jacket.
“Well, what do you know, this just might mark our first meeting when I managed not to spill on you,” she said with a bright smile that was totally out of place, given the increasing rain, her lack of a jacket, and the fact that her dinner was now food for the rats.
And for some reason, that too-bright grin was exactly the impetus he needed to remember his anger.
“You saw your ex-husband.”
Her smile vanished and she turned as though to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him.
Her hazel eyes were a mossy green in the dim light near the back door of the restaurant, but there was nothing soft in them as she glared up at him. “That’s why you’re here? Because I thought I saw my ex-husband?”
“No, I’m here because you thought you saw your ex-husband, who you know full well is the prime suspect in a string of high-profile burglary cases, and you didn’t fucking call me .”
She didn’t even flinch at his outrage. “You’re acting like I withheld information. I did call the cops! Right away.”
“Yeah. My little brother.”
“Who also goes by Officer Moretti,” she spat back. “He’s a cop, just like you.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “This isn’t Luc’s case.”
“Who was I supposed to call?” she asked incredulously. “You?”
The bafflement in her voice nagged at him, even though it shouldn’t have. “Yes, me! It’s my case!”
She spread her hands out to the side as though to indicate there was no problem. “Obviously all the minions beneath you gave you the update. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work?”
“You should have called me,” he repeated, taking a step closer.
She rolled her eyes and cupped her hands over her elbows, as though
He was well on his way to pissed.
“Ms. Walker.”
She jumped so suddenly that she dropped the container of whatever she was carrying. The sight of meat loaf and mashed potatoes splattered all over the pavement in front of her wasn’t enough to take the edge off Anthony’s anger.
But the expression of bewildered dismay as she looked down at the now inedible food was.
“Well, there goes dinner.”
The quietly uttered statement was made all the more impactful from the lack of moping in it. She was just stating the sad fact as though it was her lot in life…to have strange men sneaking up on her and to have her dinner turned upside down in a dark alley.
And for that matter, it was nearly two a.m. She hadn’t had dinner yet?
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until she cut him with an irritated look. “Surely you’ve worked a double in your day, Captain. Did you always find time to eat?”
He bit the inside of his cheek as he moved closer to her, ignoring the fact that it had started to rain harder. “Actually, it doesn’t really matter how many hours captains work. We don’t get paid overtime.”
Now why had he gone and said that? What was wrong with him?
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. What about before your illustrious captain title? Did you get overtime then?”
“Yes,” he said quietly, watching in annoyance as she knelt to pick up the food. “God, Maggie, you can’t eat that now.”
She glanced up, startled, perhaps by the use of her first name, before annoyance resettled on her pretty features. “I’m not that hard up, Captain. I was just going to clean it up and put it in the Dumpster so Carlos doesn’t step in my mess when he leaves.”
“Who’s Carlos?” He knelt beside her, taking the two ends of the plastic takeout container from her and using it to scoop the still warm leftovers onto one side.
“My fry chef,” she replied, letting him clean up. “Well, not my fry chef. But he’s my friend. He worked a double as well, so he’ll be leaving soon.”
“You should have waited for him to walk you.” He walked the couple steps to the Dumpster and tossed the leftovers over the edge, careful not to let anything splatter onto his rain jacket.
“Well, what do you know, this just might mark our first meeting when I managed not to spill on you,” she said with a bright smile that was totally out of place, given the increasing rain, her lack of a jacket, and the fact that her dinner was now food for the rats.
And for some reason, that too-bright grin was exactly the impetus he needed to remember his anger.
“You saw your ex-husband.”
Her smile vanished and she turned as though to walk away, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him.
Her hazel eyes were a mossy green in the dim light near the back door of the restaurant, but there was nothing soft in them as she glared up at him. “That’s why you’re here? Because I thought I saw my ex-husband?”
“No, I’m here because you thought you saw your ex-husband, who you know full well is the prime suspect in a string of high-profile burglary cases, and you didn’t fucking call me .”
She didn’t even flinch at his outrage. “You’re acting like I withheld information. I did call the cops! Right away.”
“Yeah. My little brother.”
“Who also goes by Officer Moretti,” she spat back. “He’s a cop, just like you.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “This isn’t Luc’s case.”
“Who was I supposed to call?” she asked incredulously. “You?”
The bafflement in her voice nagged at him, even though it shouldn’t have. “Yes, me! It’s my case!”
She spread her hands out to the side as though to indicate there was no problem. “Obviously all the minions beneath you gave you the update. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work?”
“You should have called me,” he repeated, taking a step closer.
She rolled her eyes and cupped her hands over her elbows, as though
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