“Goddamn it,” I mumbled, the phone breaking through the fog in my head. I squinted at the clock and saw that it was eight in the morning. Normally, that wouldn’t be too early, but Rafe and I hadn’t gone to sleep until one-thirty. “This better be fucking important,” I mumbled into the receiver without even checking to see who it was. Rafe turned onto his side, but didn’t waken. I envied him his slumber.
“Oh, Bea, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” It was Brian sounding disgustingly awake, but not in a good mood.
“Yes, you did,” I said. “You better be dying.”
“Um, no. I, ah, just wanted to talk to you. And Rafe, of course.” His voice took on a pleading note which didn’t do much to move me.
“Call me at a civilized hour, and we’ll talk,” I snapped, hanging up the phone. I switched it to vibrate before burrowing my head under the pillow. Minutes later, I was back asleep.
“Wake up, Bet,” Rafe murmured in my ear. It seemed like seconds later, but a glance at my clock told me it was ten. I grabbed my cell and checked messages. Sure enough, Brian had left a few. It was urgent to talk to me. Blah blah blah. He’d like to meet me after work. Seven at his place. Whatever. I supposed I’d see him tonight. I had learned my lesson, however, and I told Rafe about it this time. “We have other things to do first,” Rafe said, an impish gleam in his eyes. He reached for me and for the next hour, we were strictly incommunicado.