The man behind the counter hands her a paper bag with a smile, she pays him, then she takes off.
“Go, go, go,” Sam hisses. I toss the rest of the pizza in the box.
“Forget the pizza!”
“Are you crazy, woman?”
I didn’t drive all the way to the Cape to leave behind the best pizza on the East Coast. I grab a fistful of napkins while Sam tosses the trash in a bin and follows behind while we try to discreetly make our way out. We’re parked in the back, and Michelle’s car’s idling by the curb.
I open the door and toss the pizza in, just as Sam slams her door shut and fastens her belt.
“Gotta move quickly,” she hisses. “But like, also not so quick that we arouse suspicion.”
“Got it. So, what exactly are we doing here?”
“What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious?”
We continue to speak in whispers. “I’m a chef, babe. Not a detective. She’s abandoned her child, you managed to track her down here. Now what?”
“We confirm her identity and location, then call the social worker who has an in with the police.”
“And we don’t go directly to the police ourselves, because…?”
“They don’t know who I am.” She gives me a patient look, like one might use in talking with a child. “They won’t give me the time of day.”
I start the car and slowly but deliberately pull out onto the road behind Michelle.
“This is so backwards.”
“Welcome to my world.” She sobers. I don’t like it when she sobers. It makes a little of the light in her eyes dim for a moment. “Not everyone’s wealthy and privileged, Miguel.”
Ouch. What the hell?
“Hey, I didn’t deserve that. What did I do to deserve that?”
She releases a breath and keeps staring at the road in front of us. “Right turn. She’s taking a right.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I say, slowly following behind her.
“You didn’t do anything to deserve that. I’m sorry. It’s just—”
She pauses and doesn’t finish the sentence.
“Hey. Just what?”
We’ve been with each other for weeks now and haven’t fought. Is now the time? No. I won’t allow it to happen.
“Okay, forget it. You’re right, sometimes I do forget…” What did she call me? Wealthy and privileged?
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she says with a grimace, as Michelle pulls up to a seedy-looking little shack on the side of the road. “Keep driving. Don’t stop here, we won’t blend in at all.”
I hate that she’s made a reference to me being wealthy and “privileged.” I hate that it indicates she’s been holding something back from me. I worked my ass off to get to where I am, and I have never, not even for one fucking minute, forgotten where I came from.
“So now what?” I ask her.
“You’re angry,” she says, reaching a hand out to me. I don’t deny it. I am. I’m not going to lie to her and tell her I’m not. Nor am I going to lose my temper and patience with her.
“Miguel,” she begins, and I half expect an apology, but instead she doubles down on what she said. “We’re just two very different people, you know.”
What the fuck is that about?
“Who the fuck cares?”
“Maybe I do.”
“Why?”
“Maybe you want to be with someone who’s more in your league.” She shrugs. “And maybe I’ll never be that person.”
“Ahh. So this has more to do with your insecurities than anything I’ve done or said.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t. I did.”
I pull the car over several blocks from where we saw Michelle park.
“And there’s no fucking way I’m letting our first fight be over something so petty and fucking ridiculous.” I turn to face her. Moonlight glints off the water to our left, and a gentle breeze stirs the air. The night’s unseasonably warm, the salt air mingling with everything around us. It smells so clean, yet so desolate.
“Fight?” she asks, her jaw dropping. “Dude, I’m not fucking fighting with you. Uh uh. No way. If you think some stupid, bitchy comment I made is grounds for a fight, then lemme tell you something, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, unbuckling her seat belt and dragging her across my lap. She straddles me, one knee on either side of my thighs.
“Yeah,” she breathes, leaning in to grab my collar and yank me closer to her. “I say stupid shit. That’s who I am. I’m insecure because you’re a bajillionaire and I’m not, though I will admit to you, and no one knows this, that I am far from poor.”
I didn’t know that but suspected as much. She’s careful with how she spends her money. She’s got a low rent in a nice part of town and pays for everything in cash. She has no student loans or debts, and their business is thriving. Plus, she took on pro bono work for Toni.