SEAL the Deal(41)
“I—”
“Just leave, Mick. If you want to talk to me about this, you can talk to me when I’m not at work.” Lacey cursed the moisture building up in her eyes. “And you can sure as hell use a more pleasant tone,” she added.
Looking baffled and more than a little guilty, Mick opened his mouth as if to say something, but then shook his head and stalked out.
Seeing the door shut quietly behind him, Lacey wiped a traitorous tear from her cheek, her blood boiling.
How dare he?
Is this what she gets for taking the high road? She had never pressured anyone to sell anything. If she had, she’d probably be writing up the listing for Edith’s house right now, and flush with money from the commission she would have earned from Maeve’s grandmother’s home.
Burying her face in her hands, she was grateful for the silence of the deserted office.
Damn Mick.
Damn him for this useless excuse for a friendship. Damn him for his lack of trust. At least she showed some sense to not get romantically involved with him.
The phone rang and her heart raced, hoping it was Mick calling to apologize. Instead, Maeve’s rattled voice greeted her. “Hey, Lacey. Are you headed home soon?”
“Not for a while yet. Are you okay?” Lacey couldn’t remember a time when Maeve had sounded distressed.
“I’m fine. But the house is a different matter. Someone broke in. I wasn’t here when it happened.”
“Oh my God. Is Bess all right?”
“She was gone, too. She doesn’t even know yet. She went to look at baby furniture and I don’t want to upset her on the phone, you know? Not when she’s alone like that.”
Lacey heard voices in the background, and the sound of police radios sent a chill down her spine. “I’ll lock up and head right home. It’s dead here, anyway. No one will care.”
“Don’t worry, and don’t rush. The police are here now doing their thing—reports and fingerprints or whatever. I just knew you were going to be headed home in a bit and didn’t want you driving into a hornet’s nest of cop cars without warning.”
Maeve gave Lacey a few more words of reassurance, as well as a muffled, yet heady description of one particularly attractive police officer who apparently was not wearing a wedding ring.
Lacey put her cell phone back in her purse and stared into the empty office, her mind still trying to filter through the last ten minutes.
This day just kept getting better.
***
Mick muttered various obscenities as he stormed down Maryland Avenue to his car, hoping the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
No such luck.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Damn if she didn’t make sense. He hadn’t expected that. Of course she had obliged Mrs. B with a proposal. That was what she did for a living.
Of course she couldn’t come straight to him with the news. It wasn’t his business.
What made him think that the whole world owed him an explanation for—well—everything? He wasn’t in command here. There was no war going on here in Annapolis. No one was shooting at him.
That, of course, was the problem, he realized as he returned a salute from a Marine corporal stationed at the gate as he drove onto Academy grounds. His world was here, on this side of the Academy wall, in a world that was regimented, structured. He belonged in a military world where decisions truly were life and death, where there was a strict chain of command.
Mick glanced in his rear view mirror at the downtown scene he had just left as it faded into the distance. Out there, on the other side of the Academy gate, was a world for civilians.
He didn’t know how to live with civilians.
He watched a group of tourists pouring out of the Chapel wearing their sensible walking shoes and cameras wrapped around their necks. Not one of those people would have barged into Lacey’s office, demanding an explanation for something that wasn’t even their business.
Lacey didn’t deserve to be treated like that.
Pulling his car into his parking spot in front of his townhouse, his shoulders slumped. He wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again.
Panic gripped his chest at that prospect. Dropping his keys on the table inside his front door, they seemed to echo in his surroundings as if to remind him how empty his life was. Without her in it.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter if he went back to the SEALs. It didn’t matter if the Navy forced a desk job on him for the rest of his career.
A realization formed in his mind. If he lost her friendship, his life was incomplete.
He couldn’t let it happen.
***
The scene was exactly as Maeve had described it—a swarm of police cars on an otherwise quiet street, some with lights still blazing. Through the doors was a bustle of activity, the tinny, abrasive sounds of police radios filling the air. Drawers were pulled out from cabinets. Chests were opened and tossed on their sides. An entire file cabinet was emptied with its contents scattered onto the floor.