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Anna looked back. “No, I don’t.”
“Oh, hell no,” I growled. “You think you can play this game?”
“There are no games here, Joe.”
“Oh, is that a joke against me?No games?Meaning I can’t play hockey?”
“Seems like you’re taking this personally.”
“You’re in my hotel room!”
“Required by my job.”
“No. You’re required to talk to me. You’re just poking at me now.”
“How so, Joe?”
“What are you writing down?”
Behind me the vacuuming got even louder.
I looked back.
“I’m doing my job,” Anna said.
“No. You’re goading me. You’re pushing at me.”
“I’m looking for the same answers as you, Joe. You’re giving me blanketed statements. You threw that man through the glass because you wanted to? That’s not accurate. Something inside of you made that happen.”
“Maybe he was pissing me off.”
“Indirectly.”
“Yeah? Maybe so. But if…”
I heard a thud against the hotel room door.
That goddamn vacuum.
“Joe, what’s wrong?” Anna asked. “You seem very tense right now. You seem angry.”
“Angry? I can’t even take a piss without you knocking on the door. Want to come in next time? Watch me?”
Anna sat down. “We all have our defenses. We put up walls when we feel vulnerable.”
I laughed. “You’re trying to accuse me of being vulnerable? You think vulnerability and anger match?”
“Maybe that’s what one of my fancy textbooks say,” she said.
“Now you’re really pushing at me, Anna. Maybe I should make a call or two. I’ll have you flown out of here tonight.”
“If that’s what you want, Joe, that’s fine. I didn’t ask to be here.”
I thought about Anna leaving.
Flying privately, alone, across the country.
Then what? Huh? Would you run back to limp dick?
