Frank couldn’t have been aware of Nicole’s train of thought, but he couldn’t have missed the direction it was going in. He exhaled through his nose the way he always did when he was angry. “Just tell me what you want, okay?”

“What do I want?” Nicole shot back. “This month’s check would be nice. Last month’s check would be even nicer.” The other thing Nicole wanted, the thing she couldn’t say, was to understand what Frank saw in an airhead more than ten years younger than he was. She’d seen enough of Dawn both before Frank left that note on her pillow and in the time since, dropping off and picking up kids on weekend visitations, to be sure her only visible asset (aside from the nicely rounded ones in her bra) was the ability to listen to Frank go on about encryption algorithms for hours at a time without her blue, blue eyes glazing over.

Frank snorted again. He sounded like an irritated mule. “Is that why you called? To nag me again? I’ll get ‘em to you as fast as I can. I’m not made of money, you know.”

Thanks to Spy by Wire, he had a very nice little pile. If he thought Nicole didn’t know that, he was bone stupid. Stupider than somebody who’d run off with a twenty-two-year-old golden girl when his son was just starting to crawl. Nicole had been listing all the payments he’d been late on or skipped. One day, in court…

But she didn’t need the list now. She needed cash – cash and a place for Kimberley and Justin to stay.

Her grip on the telephone tightened. If only it were his neck. But she couldn’t afford to lose her temper. She couldn’t afford anything right now, least of all an ex-husband more annoyed with her than he already was. “No, that isn’t why I called.” She didn’t apologize – she never apologized when she was right. “I called to ask if you could take the kids tomorrow. Your hours are a lot more flexible than mine. If you could just – ”