I kept my gaze on him as I made my way right to him and stopped just off the curb by my bumper.

“Is there something you’re thinking in having this information?” Preston asked in my ear.

“I want my children back,” I answered, gaze to Mickey, seeing his eyes in his impassive face flare at my words.

“Full custody?” Preston was sounding enthusiastic and I envisioned him rubbing his hands together and not only because of the billable hours but because he liked to get his teeth into a good fight.

“I’ll not be greedy,” I replied. “Every other week. My children love their father and I don’t want them to lose something they love. I need some time to see where the kids are, but when I’m ready, this time I don’t intend to lose. And I don’t care how much it costs. I want every woman he had sex with while he was married to me contacted, deposed and ready to testify should Conrad push this to ugly.”

Mickey’s body slightly straightened at my “had sex with” but mostly he stayed leaned against my car, his gaze on me.

“I’ll talk to my investigator,” Preston said.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“You’re doing well?” he asked.

“I am, but I’m also on my way somewhere. I don’t want to be rude but I need to go.”

“Of course, I’ll call you with updates, Amelia.”

“Thank you, Preston.”

We disconnected and instantly I asked Mickey, “Can you step away from my car?”

“You’re fightin’ for your kids?” he asked back.

That was none of his business.

But after what he did to me last night, he thought he could ask?

I’d answer.

“My best friend in Cali just found out that my husband didn’t only fuck, and then fall in love with, and then put an engagement ring on the finger of a nurse in his hospital in San Diego, this all while still married to me,” I shared. “He fucked his way through his hospital in Boston, the one in Lexington, perhaps the one in San Diego too, and he’d had at least one sexual harassment claim against him. As this is new information and I’m tired of not seeing my children, should he not agree to a more equitable custody schedule, I’m afraid I’m going to have to fight dirty.”

“That’s not dirty, Amy, he’s dirty,” Mickey said quietly.

“Thank you for your opinion,” I returned tartly. “Now will you step away from my car?”

He straightened from it and turned to me.

But he didn’t step away.

“We gotta talk,” he told me, his voice gentle, his eyes not leaving me.

“No, you see, you’re wrong about that,” I replied. “We’ve done that and I’ve found it isn’t much fun for me.”

“I was outta line last night,” he stated.