Igot into the SUV after my exchange with Cole. He was being an ass as always. The seat felt warm; he had warmed it up for me. A little too warm if you ask me.
“Let’s go. What are you waiting for?” I asked.
“Jesus Christ! I thought you were going to beat the shit out of Cole.”
“Shut up and drive, Ralph,” I said in a stern voice. “Everything is going according to plan. I’m wearing him down.”
The ride back to my hotel wasn’t long. Just about 10 minutes from the club. New York was as beautiful as ever. The streets were filled with yellow cabs and people walking really fast on the sidewalks—it was simply delightful.
“Hey, Mom,” Ralph said. “Do you think Cole will agree to have the paternity test?”
“Don’t call me Mom. Don’t break character even if we’re alone in the car. You never know who is listening,” I said.
“Fine. I’ll try not to. But don’t you find it odd he didn’t recognize me?” Ralph asked.
“Really, Ralph? He’s never met you. Sure, I’ve mentioned that I have another son, Rafael. But he’s not going to remember you if he’s never met you.”
Not the brightest of the two.
“By the way, I hate the name ‘Rafael.’ Why did you have to pick that old-ass-sounding name?”
Ralph kept driving, his eyes on the road. Clearly, he was very annoyed that I named him after his great-grandfather.
“Well, you know, I loved my grandfather. He was always very kind and supportive of me. And I like the name,” I shot back.
“Fine.”
Ralph stopped the SUV abruptly in front of the hotel. The tires screeched, and the SUV moved violently forward and then settled down. I hit my head against the back of the driver’s seat and then snapped back to my seat.
Thank goodness for seatbelts.
“Aarrgg. Damn it, Ralph. Quit driving like a maniac. We don’t need a cop stopping you and asking questions.
Like father, like son.
There was silence. I didn’t know why Ralph wasn’t saying anything. I looked at Ralph through the rearview mirror. Ralph’s nose was bleeding.
I gasped.
Suddenly, there was a knock at my window—a very familiar face.
John. What are you doing here?
“Mom, do you have a handkerchief or something? My nose is bleeding.”
I looked in my purse and handed him a few napkins I’d kept from the jazz club.
I rolled down the window. John looked at me with a puzzled face.
“Were you trying to run me over, darling?” John asked with a smirk. “Our son here almost ran me over.”
His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. He was dressed like a hoodlum—the same tattered brown jacket and his favorite blue jeans.
“Dammit, John. What the hell are you doing here?”
You’re impossible to deal with. You’re going to ruin my plans.
“Well, Ralph here told me about your little plan to extort Cole.”
