looked and sounded so surprised he suddenly felt a little self-conscious. “We, um, wanted to make sure you’re okay. But we can come back later.” He tugged on Charlie’s arm again. “Come on, matey. You want to go get some chocolate?”
“Don’t be silly. You weren’t interrupting anything,” Angie said.
Long-haired guy frowned, not liking the sound of that.
“I can’t believe you came all the way into the city just to see me. How lucky am I?” Angie bent to scoop Charlie into her arms.
His son happily sat on her hip, despite the fact that he’d squirmed his way out of Michael’s arms barely minutes before.
“Angie,” Charlie said, reaching out to touch the sparkling earring dangling from her lobe.
“I thought we could help you clean up, sort things out,” Michael said.
Angie’s expression was soft with gratitude. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”
Long-haired guy shifted his weight ostentatiously, drawing attention to himself.
Angie looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Carlos, this is Michael and Charlie. Carlos has a studio on the fourth floor.”
“Good to meet you. I hope things didn’t go too badly for you last night.” Michael offered his hand.
“I was lucky for once, since they skipped me. But poor Angie was not so lucky.”
“No,” Michael said, very aware of the other man sizing him up.
Carlos stepped closer to Angie and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I need to get back to my work, but we’re still on for lunch, yes?”
There was a faint lilt to his voice, indicating that English was not his first language.
“Can I call you? I really want to get as much of this sorted today as I can. I can’t afford to lose more time.” Her forehead was puckered with worry.
“You have to eat, beautiful,” Carlos said. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, maintaining the contact longer than was strictly necessary. Almost as though he was trying to make a point—although to whom, Michael had no idea. “Call me, okay?”
Carlos gave Michael a reserved nod before leaving. Angie jiggled Charlie on her hip, making him giggle.
“This is a nice surprise, isn’t it? A lovely surprise,” she said. Her cheeks were a little flushed, as though she was embarrassed about something.
Michael surveyed the room, taking in the graffiti and the pile of glass and other debris that had been swept into the corner. Pieces of a broken table and chairs lay beside it, and twin piles of books were stacked near the door. A mid-century sideboard in teak veneer lay facedown on the ground.
“They did a real number on the place, huh?”
“Pretty much. If it moved, they smashed it, and if it didn’t, they painted it.” Angie shook her head with disgust.
Michael crossed to the sideboard and crouched, getting a good grip on it before easing into an upright position. Once it was righted he saw it was still half-filled with books, which explained both why it was so heavy and why Angie hadn’t tackled it on her own. There was more broken glass underneath, as well as the smashed remains of what looked like a porcelain menagerie—a lion, a tiger, an elephant and a monkey.
“More casualties.” Angie’s face was taut with unhappiness.
“No be sad,” Charlie said, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You no be sad.”
She immediately smiled, rubbing her nose against his. “It’s okay, Charlie-boy. I’m okay.”
Michael pushed the sideboard against the wall and crouched to tidy the books on the shelves.
“Don’t worry about those. I can do that later,” she said.
“We came to help.” He was aware of feeling off balance as he tidied the books. It took him a moment to understand that he was thrown by the discovery that Angie had a boyfriend.
She hadn’t mentioned anyone to him, not even in passing. The omission left him feeling oddly unsettled. As though something small but significant in his understanding of the world had shifted.
In the months since Billie had died Angie had laughed with him, cried with him, cooked for him, changed his son’s diapers and read bedtime stories to his daughter. Yet she hadn’t even so much as hinted that she was seeing someone.
Newsflash, buddy—you don’t own her. She doesn’t owe you anything.
He knew the voice in his head was right. He had no right to feel…possessive was the wrong word, but it was close…of Angie. She didn’t belong to him and the kids. She was her own person, with her own life and her own dreams and wants and desires. All of which she was entitled to keep to herself if she so chose.
“What does Carlos do?” So much for minding his own business.
“He’s a musician, plus he does a bit of sound-engineering work on the side.”
“Right.”
Shut up. Not another word.
“So how long have you two been…?” He kept his gaze on his task, very carefully not looking at her. He had no idea why he was asking, why he felt the burning need to know what was going on in her life.
Angie laughed, the sound reassuringly startled. “Me and Carlos? I don’t think so.”
He allowed himself to look at her. “Yeah? The way he was marking his territory just now, I figured you guys must have something going on.”
“I have no idea what that was about. We’ve had drinks after work a few times. But he’s not my type. Too brooding and artistic. I like a little less drama in my life.”
She might not have any idea what the other man’s ostentatious display had been about, but Michael did. For some reason, he’d seen Michael as a rival for Angie’s affections. Which went to show how good the other man’s instincts were.
Angie took up the broom and resumed sweeping the floor, Charlie clinging to her leg. It occurred to him that bringing a two-year-old to the site of a break-in hadn’t been his smartest move. But he hadn’t exactly been thinking rationally when he’d turned the car toward the city. He’d only wanted to make sure Angie was okay.
“Here, I’ll do that,” he said, holding a hand out for the broom.
“I’m almost done,” Angie said, smiling at Charlie, who was looking at her with bright eyes.
“Is there a bin where we can dump all this stuff?”
“I hadn’t even thought that far ahead.” She tucked a strand of long dark hair behind her ear. “There’s supposed to be a wheelie bin on each level, but half the time it disappears.”
“I’ll go
