“Don’t dress it up, Cat. You work for reality television. You’re one step up from an ambulance-chasing personal injury lawyer promising his clients a fortune for their slip and fall.”

“What is your problem, Yates?” she snarled.

They were so close he could smell her shampoo, something citrusy.

“My problem is you drag my daughter on set—without my permission—and expose her to the sordid drama—”

“Oh, you want to talk about kids absorbing things? Great. Yeah, kids are always absorbing what’s around them, and you know what’s around Sara? You telling your daughter her interests aren’t good enough.”

Noah saw red around the edges of his vision. “You’re going to want to tread lightly,” he said, his tone icy.

But Cat wasn’t one to take cues. No, she was one to throw a canister of gasoline on a fire just to watch the explosion.

“No, I think you are. If you keep steering your daughter away from what she enjoys, what’s important to her, what do you think the outcome is going to be? ‘Gee, thanks Dad for never supporting my interests. I’m so glad I became an insurance adjustor and married an asshole who thinks he knows what’s best for me.’”

“I’m not taking parenting advice from a reality TV star! And I don’t appreciate you filling her head with fantasies of fame and glamor.” Noah’s voice was low enough to be a growl.

“Glamor?” Cat spat out. She ripped the cap off her head. “I have mud in my hair. I’ve been working since five this morning dragging debris out of your fucking park so your town can have its Christmas. I have bags under my eyes from dealing with production issues until all hours of the night because you’re trying your damnedest to make this as difficult as possible. I’ve got an entire crew of landscapers down with the 24-hour bug, and I have to find another ten grand in the budget to get April the treehouse she and your daughter have always wanted.”

That finger was back, and it was drilling a hole into his chest.

“I haven’t done laundry in a fucking week, and these jeans are going to disintegrate at any given moment. I didn’t fill your daughter’s head with glitz and glamor, you fucking asshole. I filled it with the rewards of hard work and what being a strong, independent fucking woman means. Now get the fuck out of my way before I really tell you what I think.”

With less than half a second to decide, Noah wisely stepped aside. Cat stormed past him down the sidewalk. She whirled around and opened her mouth as if to give him one final parting shot, then closed it again. She settled for an obstinate middle finger and a glare hot enough to burn down his world before stalking off down the block.