No.
Therefore I found myself sitting, leaned forward, my hands forming a bowl while Audrey strode into the barn wearing a slim-fitting, pencil skirt, a shiny, satin blouse and a pair of stiletto-heeled pumps that even I, who the vast majority of the time wore cowboy boots, flip-flops or thick socks (when it was cold), would likely kill for.
How could a day that started out so fucking great turn to complete and total shit?
“Dusty?” she called as she got close.
Shit. Shit. Fuck.
“Audrey,” I replied.
“Can we talk?”
Jesus. Was she serious? Showing up at my family farm out-of-the-blue dressed like someone out of a TV show about women who spend their time drinking cosmos, having sex, talking about sex, shopping for clothes and bitching about men and she wanted to talk?
“Um…not to be a bitch or anything,” I tipped my head to my spinning wheel, “but I’m kinda busy.”
She hesitated then she walked to my radio and turned it down.
My eyes followed as she did this but my mind was thinking, yes again, Jesus. Was she serious?
I pulled in a very, very deep breath.
She moved close(ish).
“It’s important,” she whispered.
I reached down, turned off my wheel and sat up enough to lean my elbows into my knees, my head tipped back to look at her and I replied, “We met once briefly. I’m not certain we have anything to talk about but I am certain I have concerns about talking with you without Mike knowing it’s going down. And again, not to be a bitch or anything but I’m not comfortable with you showing up at my family barn without warning wanting to talk about something important.”
“I can understand that,” she replied but didn’t move.
“So, um…I have a lot to do,” I prompted her to take her leave.
“I won’t take up much of your time,” she stated instantly.
Jesus. Seriously?
“Audrey –”
“You must know this is hard on me,” she whispered and I blinked.
Hard on her? I didn’t show up at her house all of a sudden wanting to talk about something she had no clue what it was I wanted to talk about.
I sat up and tried for patience.
“Please understand, I’m very busy and whatever this is, I can’t do it right now.”
“I just –” she started but was cut off with a growled, clipped, very, very angry, “What the fuck?”
She turned swiftly and gave me an eyeful of my man prowling into the barn, his hard, glittering, angry eyes locked on Audrey.
Her showing was already bad. This was really bad.
“What the fuck?” he repeated even though he’d given neither of us the time to explain what the fuck was (not that I knew either).
“Mike –” Audrey started, lifting a hand toward him but he stopped three feet away, his eyes still glued to her and he interrupted.
“I thought that was your Mercedes. I didn’t want to believe it so I hoped it wasn’t. But here it is. It fuckin’ was. What in the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“I needed to speak with Dusty,” she answered.
“Audrey, honest to God, there is not one thing you need to speak with Dusty about.”
“You’re wrong, Mike,” she said quietly.
“Oh no, I fuckin’ am not,” he returned sharply.
“Please, if I can just talk with Dusty for a moment, it’ll only take a moment. Then I’ll be gone.”
“That’s not gonna happen. You’re gonna be gone in about two seconds and in those two seconds you’re not gonna say shit to Dusty.”
“Mike –” she began.
“Get in your fuckin’ car and go.”
“Mike, please –” she started again.
But he leaned forward, face still hard, eyes still glittering and now narrowed and he ground out, “We are not playin’ these games, Audrey. Not now. Not fuckin’ ever. Dusty is off-limits to you. Totally. Completely. She does not exist for you. Now get in your fuckin’ car and go.”
She did not get in her fuckin’ car and go, unfortunately.
She threw up both hands, exasperated, and declared, “You can’t imagine this is easy for me.”
“I don’t even know what this is,” Mike shot back. “And I don’t fuckin’ care.” He looked to me and asked, “You know she was showin’?”
I pressed my lips together since he was so pissed he was the definition of pissed and I didn’t want to make him more pissed. Actually, I didn’t want to be there at all while they faced off but unfortunately my pottery was not making itself and, unlike the other beings with only two legs that were in the barn with me, I had to be there. Still, I slowly shook my head.
Mike’s eyes cut back to Audrey but spoke to me, “’Course not. How would you?” Then he spoke to Audrey, “You don’t have her numbers. But town talk, you know she’s a Holliday. You know where the farm is. And you know she’s workin’ it. So you show. Puttin’ her on the spot for whatever shit you mean to shovel, makin’ her eat it when my woman’s got a vast amount of shit already on her fuckin’ plate.”