There was no way I could risk the scandal of a dine-and-dash at a local restaurant, so when the bill came at Charley’s Crab, I snatched it right out of Marty’s hand. We’d had lunch and only had a few cocktails. I hadn’t been a midday drinker since I was in college, but it was kind of fun and there was something about doing it with Marty that made it seem okay.
Before I could get to the bottom figure on the bill, Marty had grabbed it back and handed his American Express card to the waitress.
I didn’t want money to become a problem between us, so I said, “We don’t have to keep eating at fancy restaurants every day. I’m a simple girl from Jersey. A sub or a hot dog can keep me filled up for a long time.” I hadn’t meant it as a double entendre, but the smile on his face told me that was how he took it. A typical guy. But in his case, he was so good-natured that anything I said to make him smile made me happy.
Marty said, “It’s fine, I have jobs lined up back to back that will carry me through next summer. I may not be designing the next New York library or be considered the Addison Mizner of my generation, but at least I have a good reputation. And it’s nice to have the money coming in.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Teal is happy about it too.”
I caught the bitterness in his voice. Recently, I’d been trying to judge if he was getting over his ex-wife and the circumstances of his divorce, or if he was focusing on them more. It was hard to tell. In a way it made him more human, like a regular guy. He wasn’t flawless, even though I found him engaging and caring.
As we were standing by the covered front entrance to Charley’s Crab, I looked up and was shocked to see Brennan driving by us on Ocean Boulevard in his Jaguar convertible. It was the blue one that I’d picked out for him. I couldn’t keep a “son of a bitch” from coming out of my mouth.
Marty looked up quickly and said, “What’s wrong?”
I nodded toward the Jag and said, “There’s Brennan looking like he owns the world.” And he did. It looked like he should be wearing a commodore’s cap. Then he did the worst thing I could imagine him doing. It cut me like a knife and left me shaking.
He waved to me.
Not a nasty wave. Not a condescending wave. Just a casual raising of his right hand like we were old acquaintances passing on the street. Like I meant nothing to him. Not only was he over me, it was like I had never existed.
I couldn’t let Marty see how this was affecting me, so I pretended to sneeze and put my hands over my face.
Marty was too smart for that. He slid an arm around my shoulder and said, “Let’s find a place to sit back and talk for a while.”