“I’m staying right here,” said Claire. “Let’s talk it out with Mama.”
Chapter 44
CINDY SAID, “NO offense, Claire, but I don’t want to talk this out with anyone. Not you, not Dr. Freud, not anyone. This is personal between Rich and me.”
Claire said, “Dr. Freud?”
“Rich wants us to go into therapy, and I’m not going. I refuse, and I’ve tried to explain it to you, Rich. I don’t have a mental disorder. Newspapers are folding worldwide. Writers are creating free content on blogs and are competing for the chance to work for no pay at all.
“I have to nail down my niche so that when the music stops, I have a chair.”
“I’m not getting enough out of this relationship,” Rich said. “You have to decide what’s more important to you—”
Cindy bolted from the booth, pushed past the tables in the center of the room, threaded her way through the pass
ageway, and went out into the bar. There was a limbo competition in progress and a skinny woman in hot pink was shimmying under the bamboo pole.
Cindy bumped into the stick and it clattered to the ground, which was followed by loud and very vocal disapproval from the crowd.
Cindy said, “Sorry,” and kept going through the doorway, into the misty night. She began running up the street to where she had parked her car, on Jackson and Battery.
Rich was calling her name, but she didn’t stop. She had her key fob in hand, and when she was within range, she disarmed the car alarm.
Rich was saying, “Stop running, Cindy. Just stop.”
When she got to the car, it chirped as the alarm reset itself. What the hell? She pressed the button and the car chirped again, then again.
Rich had a duplicate of her fob. Every time she turned off the alarm, he turned it on again. This was insane.
She spun around to confront him.
“Leave me alone, Rich.”
“First we talk.”
“Do not go cop on me.”
He smiled.
She said, “And do not try to humor me, either.”
“Answer me this, Cindy. When was the last time you kissed me like you meant it?”
Everything seemed to stop but the rain.
Chapter 45
CINDY STARED AT Rich as he rested his butt against the left front fender of her car, crossed his arms over his chest. He looked seriously angry. She was pretty mad herself. When was the last time she’d kissed him with feeling?
He said, “You’re ambitious to a fault.”
“Oh, really?”
“Other women would be planning a wedding. They’d be designing their wedding dress and so forth. Picking out a honeymoon spot. You don’t want to set a date. You make a little sound in your throat when you see a baby.”
“What sound, Rich? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s like you’re disgusted.”