So when he picked me up early one evening in his slightly dinged twelve-year-old BMW, I was open to his idea to take a leisurely ride all the way down to South Beach, which was more than seventy-five miles away.

We were lucky and found a spot in front of Marjory Stoneman Douglas Park, so we walked down the boardwalk, holding hands the whole time. Unlike Palm Beach, this beach was busy with runners, sightseers, and bicyclists crowding the boardwalk. It was an entirely different vibe from home. Everyone here looked happy.

We ended up at a place called Prime 112 on Ocean Drive and munched on appetizers and sipped incredible wine. It was magical. We moved on to our meal and a wonderful bottle of wine paired to our fillets. If Dwyane Wade or Khloé Kardashian had walked through the tony restaurant, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

It was nice to see Marty enjoying himself and acting so relaxed, until our waiter, Diego, brought the bill. In my time with Brennan, I’d rarely had to worry about the cost of things. It was so different from how I’d grown up. When I saw the look on Marty’s face, I had to ask, “What’s wrong, babe?”

He showed me the bill, and I saw that it was something over a thousand bucks. For some reason the whole idea started to make me giggle. That in itself struck me as funny and I started to laugh out loud.

That got Marty laughing too. I don’t know what it is about a man who laughs easily, but there is almost nothing as attractive to me.

I reached for my purse, and he said, “No. No way. I was the one who dragged you down here and insisted on the most expensive wine.” Then he gave me that crazy smile and said, “You ready to play another game?”

“Anything you want.”

He pulled two hundred dollars out of his wallet, and when Diego walked by he held it up and said, “I want to make sure you get your tip in cash. No one likes to declare what they earned in tips.” Diego smiled and thanked us both, kissing my hand like the South American gentleman he was.

Then Marty said to me, “We’re going to make believe we left a card to cover our outrageously expensive meal. Is that okay with you?”

Maybe if he hadn’t tipped Diego, I would’ve been more hesitant. Instead, a tremor of excitement ran through me. “You don’t think we’ll get caught?”

“Diego got his tip, and he’s happy. We’ll be blocks away before he even realizes it.” Marty reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and slipped off his car key, leaving three keys on a ring on top of the bill. “That’ll make it look like we’re coming back.”

“Don’t you need your keys?”

“I’ve got extra keys, and it won’t cost me a grand to replace them.”

I got the idea that Marty had done stuff like this before.