Page 5 of Mr. Infuriating

I bristled at her use of my government name.

“She’s staying with me this weekend,Rebecca. She can get it then. Obviously, it’s not that important or she wouldn’t have left it in the first place.”

“So, you’re okay with our daughter waiting for the bus in forty-degree weather in the morning without a sweatshirt.”

“And you’re telling me that my daughter has no spring jacket or any other sweatshirt in her closet? It has to be the one sweatshirt she left at my place.”

I deliberately called Brittmydaughter because I knew that would piss Becky off. Yeah, it was petty, but the woman was picking a fight with me over a goddamn sweatshirt.

“None that she’ll wear!”

“Then she must not be that cold in the morning.”

“I can’t believe that you’re being so difficult about this.”

“I’m not the one being difficult. If I had time to go home before Brayden’s game, trust me, I would.”

If for no other reason than to shut you the hell up.

I left that part unspoken.

“Fine. I’ll handle it, like I always do.”

Without another word, she ended the call.

I closed my eyes and threw my head back with a loud sigh as I set my phone on my desk. Becky was going to make me pay for not doing her bidding, of that I was certain.

Fortunately, I now had the option to simply walk away and ignore her.

I’d take the kids shopping this weekend and buy them ten damn sweatshirts each if I thought that would placate my ex-wife. But I knew it wouldn’t, because she’d find something else to be upset with me about next week. That had been par for the course since our divorce was finalized five years ago.

Actually, pretty much since Britt turned four and our world fell apart. We just didn’t get divorced for another two years.

In some ways it’d been a blessing, but I did miss being with my kids every night.

And now, thanks to fucking Rick, I had another woman pissed off at me.

Granted, this one had every right to be, but I had no idea how to fix it. I wasn’t in a position to give Gretchen Wainwright what she wanted. I’d spent the last ten weeks working on those cabinets, not to mention the cost of materials, I couldn’t just eat that, even if I wanted to.

Besides, my brother, Maverick, would have my ass if I did. He was supposed to be my silent partner, but he was hardly silent. Which, I had to begrudgingly admit, was a good thing. His business savvy had allowed me to turn what had once been my side-hustle into a full-time gig, complete with ten employees.

He’d also been the one to have a lawyer draw up our contract. And he was the one who insisted we take people tocourt if they breached said contract—something we’d only had to do twice, fortunately.

I could picture how this one would go.

“So, Mr. Mitchell, did you really suggest my client ride your… appendage in exchange for terminating the contract for her custom kitchen cabinets?”

Headlines flashed in my head. “Contractor Demands Sex From Clients” or some shit like that.

Thatwould not be good for business. Not to mention, the Yelp reviews would probably be scathing.

One thing was certain—Rick was going through training on how to work the damn phone.

Chapter Two

Gretchen

Instead of grading the papers I’d stayed after school to work on, I found myself pacing my classroom floor, absent-mindedly straightening students’ desks and picking up the stray trash on the floor as I fumed.

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