“I’ve been called worse things by scarier people,” he said. “It’s probably not helping your cause that you sound like you’ve been running a marathon. Why are you breathing so hard?”
“I’m not breathing hard!”
“It’s like you’re panting right in my ear. I might have to start charging you for this phone call if you’re trying to make it go that direction.”
“Stop trying to distract me,” I hissed at him, trying desperately to ignore the idea of phone sex with Darren Mayne, what the fuck. “Or I swear to god, I’m going to make you up like a dime-store floozy come drag bachelor auction night.”
“You don’t have to keep saying drag bachelor auction,” he retorted. “It’s not that great of an idea. And a floozy? I didn’t know you were an eighty-year-old grandmother of seven.”
“Fuck you sideways, it’s the best idea.”
“Best being the operative word.”
“Darren!”
“Sandy!”
“I’m not a grandma!”
“Sort of.”
“You infuriate me.”
“The feeling is more than mutual.”
“Good!”
“Fine!”
“I don’t even remember why I called you!”
“Why are you yelling at me, then?”
“Because you deserve to be yelled at. You’ve done something, oh my god. No. You know what? Just. No. I will not allow you to get me riled up so close to a show. I need to be the best that I can be. I’ve had a very trying day today and I will be calm and cool and collected and you will do nothing to make it worse.”
“My day was trying because you’re trying.”
“Yeah, trying to get you to shut the fuck up and listen to me!”
“Oh, real mature.”
“Do you really think you need to do this flirting right in front of me?” Mike said, quite loudly. Which, to be honest, startled the shit out of me because I’d forgotten he was even there.
“Flirting?” I sputtered, sufficiently outraged. “This isn’t flirting. This is me on my way to a goddamn murderous rage where Darren will be my first and only victim and he will suffer.”
“You probably weigh a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet,” Darren said. “I highly doubt you can murder anything. Well, except for that steak you ate today. Jesus, that went down fast.”
“Try me,” I growled, Helena pushing through.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
“We will,” I snarled into the phone. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t—”
“I really wish this wasn’t happening right in front of me.” Mike grimaced. “Or in my trailer. Or within hearing distance. It’s really rather disgusting how shameless the two of you are. The UST is really just rather revolting.”
“Two things,” I snapped at him. “You should never say UST again. You are middle-aged and you need to learn to act like it. And secondly, are you fucking serious? UST. Mike. Shut the fuck up before I decide to up my kill c
ount.”