Unfortunately, he was so into it, by the time he was done he was supposed to be at Mimi’s and being late would piss off Audrey. He knew this because his job meant his hours could be erratic and her spending meant his overtime was constant. Still, she expected him when she expected him where she expected him and if he was late or a no-show, she didn’t mind sharing how much that pissed her off. And how much it pissed her off was a lot.

He didn’t need a pissed off Audrey considering he already didn’t want to give her this time or play whatever game she intended to play. She was his kids’ Mom, however, so he had no f**king choice.

He sucked in breath, folded Rees’s report in half, the will in half, shoved both in the inside pocket of his blazer and shrugged it on. Then he took off down the steps to the first floor of the Station. Moving by Betsy at reception, he flicked out two fingers, called goodnight and got the same in return.

Then he pushed through the front door and walked down the sidewalk to Mimi’s.

It was the beginning of March. Spring was there. The temperatures were rising; there was no snow to be found. Yards were greening up. Buds were on the trees. Bulbs were sending up shoots in people’s yards.

Mike lived in Indiana all his life so he was used to adjusting his day to the changeable and sometimes extreme weather patterns. It was second nature. He didn’t notice it. He didn’t savor spring heralding the end of winter. He didn’t give a shit. He was just pleased the warm up meant he could barbeque without freezing his ass off. And he was pleased that the change in the weather indicated that Fin would not have to go out and clear any more streets.

That was all the thought he gave to it.

He pushed open the door to Mimi’s already having spotted Audrey seeing she’d chosen a table in the window.

Seeing it, his mouth got tight.

Calculated. The ‘Burg was a small town and she’d lived in it a long while. Anyone driving or walking past would see him having a coffee with her. They’d wonder. They’d talk. They’d speculate. They’d even make shit up. And everyone by this time knew he was with Dusty. This was courtesy of Sully’s wife, Lorraine not to mention the quintuple threat of Cheryl, Jessie, Mimi, February and Violet, two of those working in the town’s most popular bar, one of them owning the frequented coffee house.

Jesus, Audrey and her games.

He saw she had a mug in front of her, another mug was on the table and a white bag was also sitting on the table.

He didn’t know what was in that bag but he was surprised by its presence. If she didn’t keep a handle on it, Audrey was the kind of woman who would pack on weight easily. And honest to God, sometimes he thought she’d rather slit her wrists than gain an extra pound. She stepped on the scale every morning and every morning he’d brace. This was because the results set the mood in their house until the next day when she again stepped on that f**king scale.

She, luckily, didn’t give a shit about what Mike and the kids ate though she would frequently bitch about the food in the house mostly because it tempted her. But she took great care with every morsel that passed her lips. She also speed-walked three times a week and went to the gym to swim twice. She was as obsessive about these things as shopping. So baked goods from Mimi’s didn’t make sense.

Her apparently having bought him a drink didn’t either. She’d never been particularly polite but after he asked for a divorce that evaporated completely. Any time she spoke to him over the phone or saw him in person, the acid spewed.

He did not like that mug of coffee sitting on the table. Not at all.

As he moved to Audrey, his eyes went to the counter to see if Mimi was there. She wasn’t and the lone girl behind it was with a customer so she didn’t glance at him.

He expected a terse, “You’re late,” when he arrived but Audrey just smiled up at him.

Then she said, “I got you a latte. Butterscotch?”

He stared at her, shocked as shit. Butterscotch lattes were what Reesee would order him if he brought her or both his kids here. He had no clue Audrey knew or even cared that was his preference.

“Yeah,” he grunted as he sat down then forced out a, “Thanks.”

She immediately reached a hand to the bag and slid it his way. “Those are brownies and cookies. For you, No and Rees.”

He kept staring at her.

She’d called No “No”.

Fuck.

And brownies and cookies?

Fuck.

Except for birthdays and Christmases, which she spent a fortune on with a glee that had nothing to do with celebrations and holidays, he didn’t know her ever to make a gesture to him or the kids like that. When they had children, her shopping extended naturally to filling the kids’ closets, dressers and rooms with shit they did not need but it wasn’t kindness or generosity. It was addiction.

“Thanks,” he muttered again and noted she’d told him they were for him, No and Rees but not Dusty. Understandable but also an indication that she was not moving on as she knew he already had.

He tagged his mug, took a sip then set it down.

“You wanna start this?” he invited. “No’s been instructed to order pizza in fifteen minutes and I gotta swing by and pick it up on the way home. I’m sorry I’m late but that means we have even less time. We should get this done.”

She nodded then shared conversationally, “Things are going well at work.”

Jesus. What the f**k? Was this just a chat?

He didn’t have time for this shit.

“That’s good. Pleased for you, Audrey. Now, do we have something to discuss?”

She rubbed her lips together and grabbed her mug to take a drink.

Stalling. Sucking his time. Playing games.

“Audrey…” he warned and her eyes shot to him.

“I don’t like you with another woman.”

Mike sighed and sat back.

Then, quietly, seeking patience, he explained, “We’re divorced. We’ve been that way a while. We’re gonna stay that way. I’m gettin’ that you’re strugglin’ with that now for whatever reason but it’s the way it is. You need to learn how to deal and however you do that is yours. I’m not involved. If this is about me and Dusty, that has not one thing to do with you. We talk, we talk about our kids. That’s it. Anything else in my life, for you, is off-limits.”

“That isn’t true,” she returned, speaking quietly as well. “She’s in your home. Our kids live in your home –”