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“Don’t know about that,” Mick replied. “She’sgot a job.”
I jerked back in surprise.
“I’ll find a job,” I repeated quietly, my skin tingling like at any moment it was going to burst into flames. “We just got here.”
“I know.” Michael sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Look, she works her ass off, alright? Not sure why the hell you’d look down on her for that.”
“I’m not looking down on anyone,” I argued, frozen in place.
“Sure you weren’t,” he replied tiredly, picking his menu back up.
I sat there, my face on fire as he looked away. My throat felt tight and my nose stung. Holding my breath, I set my hands on my lap, focusing on the way my thumbs brushed against my jeans. I didn’t look at Rhett as he started putting all the sugar packets on the table. I didn’t look at Michael as he set his menu down in front of him. I didn’t even look at Nova when she brought over a couple crayons so Rhett could color on his kid’s menu.
If I’d moved or even breathed, the tears that threatened would’ve become a reality. I refused to cry in the middle of a crowded pancake restaurant.
“Pancakes,” Rhett told me, snuggling in against my side.
“Okay,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.
“What do you want to drink, Rhett?” Michael asked, his voice almost too loud as he tried to pretend the table wasn’t practically vibrating with tension.
Rhett didn’t answer.
“You want some juice, bud?” I asked, wrapping my arm around his waist as he leaned over the table.
“Yeah,” Rhett replied.
I wasn’t sure if I was more embarrassed that I’d been called out for being a snob or the fact that Mick had put me in my place. He was right. At least Nova had a job. Hell, Michael was so much better off financially it was ridiculous. He owned a freaking house. One could argue that he was doing so well because he hadn’t had to take care of a child for the last two years like I had—but I wasn’t going to make that argument.
The most idiotic thing about it was that I hadn’t even made the comment about Nova because I cared where she worked. It wasn’t like I had any room to talk. It was jealousy, pure and simple. I’d seen the easy way he was with her, and I’d wanted to ruin it. I’d wanted to make her lesser somehow.
We sat silently until the waiter came and took our order.
“He’d like the kid’s pancakes and syrup, please,” I said, smiling at the waiter. “And some apple juice cut with water.”
“Okay. What about you?”
“Just coffee, please.”
“Nothing to eat?”
“No thanks.”
“Get some food,” Michael ordered, his voice low.
“No thanks, I’m not hungry.” The thought of trying to choke down a meal while Michael sat across from us made me want to vomit.
“Just get somethin’ to eat, Emilia.”
“No, I’m good,” I said, shaking my head. I shot the waiter another smile.
“I’d like the strawberry pancakes,” Michael said. “With coffee.”
“I’ll get those right out,” the waiter replied cheerfully, walking away as quickly as he could.
“You serious right now?” Mick asked, staring at me. “You’re not gonna eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
