“Humph!” Red made a face. “It’s my money. I earn it. Nobody’s going to tell me how to spend it!”
“That’s not the point.” Bobby’s ire rose more quickly than he could ever remember. He was on the verge of leaping at her.
“And that file cabinet was for you!” Red stood in the doorway, feet shoulder width apart, hands on hips, leaning forward at the waist, all ninety-five pounds of her ready to tackle him.
He gritted his teeth, paced his words. “The point is we can’t spend more than we take in. The interest on these cards alone—”
“Well, escuuuuussse me! I’ll have them come for the desk tomorrow.”
“Geez. Let me finish.”
“Humph!”
“We make just so much. If you want something, let’s make the money first—”
“f**k you!”
Bobby almost fell from his chair. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or lash
