That’s what you get for snooping, she told herself, and sat down on the bed. Then she picked up the phone and dialed her own cell number again.

“So how long does it take you to drive across town?” she asked when John answered.

“Missing me, are you?”

“I’m about to start looking through drawers, just so you know.”

He gave a sharp laugh at that, more surprise than worry. “Your phone rang.”

“Wait, don’t tell me. Apples or Peaches.”

“Peaches,” John said. “You never told me how much your mother likes me.”

Angie closed her eyes and lay back on the bed. “She’s a sucker for a pretty face. So what did you two talk about?”

“She had a story to tell.”

“The one about how when I was five I gave a kid down the block a bloody nose when he tried to kiss me?”

“No,” John said. “I see some thematic similarities, but no blood was shed in this particular story.”

“So tell me.”

“It seems I’m a pair of pants hanging in your closet.”

“Shit.” Angie bit her lip. “Turn off the cell phone, would you? And get over here.”

Much later Angie said, “Do you think it’s twisted of me that I like it when you get mad? Because let me tell you Harvey, that was spectacular.”

John was lying on his back, eyes closed. “God help me, I’m starting to like you calling me that. What do you think that means?”

“Wait,” Angie said. “Are you going to tell me you’ve got a crush on Tony?”

He grabbed her and she shrieked and struggled and then gave in. “Okay, okay. Whoever Miss Zula was thinking about when she put Harvey Carson on the page, it wasn’t you.”

“Good.” He let her go, which was a little bit of a disappointment, though the way he was looking at her was promising. “Now what’s this about me being mad?”

“You forget to be polite,” Angie said, running her fingers over his sweaty skin. “You stop thinking, and all the gloss comes off, and things get … interesting.”

“So are you saying I was too rough? Because if I hurt you and you liked it, that would be sick.”

“Christ no, you didn’t hurt me. You’ve got that analytical gleam in your eye, and now I’m sorry I raised the question.”

“So tell me,” he said, still grinning, “are things less than stellar when I’m not angry?”

“You’re fishing for compliments.”

“I repeat, when I’m not angry—”

“You fuck like a god, regardless of your mood.”

That made him laugh out loud. “Okay, I deserved that.” He turned away to take care of the condom, which made Angie remember why Win Walker had been in such a sour mood at the Hound Dog.

She said, “We need to talk.”