“You know, for someone who supposedly doesn’t like the well-to-do, you talk a lot about what other people do with their own money quite often,” I noted out loud, while unfolding the white linen napkin and placing it in my lap.

Truth be told, Cohen’s family wasn’t poor by any means. His father had inherited his grandfather’s luggage company, and while the company had taken a turn for the worst in recent years, Cohen had grown up in Williamsport’s upper-middle class circles. But now, as a student teacher of economics at Williamsport University, he spent a great deal of his free time railing against the rich and elite society. And while the commonality of our views on issues of discrepancies in socioeconomics, education, and poverty in our society had originally drawn us together, I didn’t need to hear about it when all I wanted to do was enjoy an hour-long lunch with my boyfriend. Especially, when I was in the middle of a hectic work day.

“Thank you,” I lifted my head, telling the waiter who’d brought out our food.

Cohen waited until our waiter left to respond to my earlier comment. “I merely talk about the inequalities as I see them in society.”

I lifted an eyebrow as my gaze dropped down to the sirloin steak on his plate, as he sliced through it before lifting it to his mouth. He talked a big game about hating disparity, poverty, and loathing everything he called haughty, but he had no problem indulging in those things when it suited him.

“You used to agree with me on these issues,” he casually reminded me as he lifted a forkful of steamed, seasonal vegetable to his mouth.

I sighed. “I still agree.”

“But you come to places like this for lunch.”

“Like I already said, it’s close to my job and I have to get back in …” I lifted my right wrist, peering at the time, “thirty minutes.”

“Of course, your job,” he muttered, but I heard the sneer in his voice.

“What’s wrong with my job?” My hackles were up.

He shrugged, looking down at his plate. “Nothing. It’s just that ever since you got that promotion and big raise you’ve changed.”

I rolled my eyes but continued chewing the steamed trout I’d ordered for my lunch, before wiping my mouth with the napkin. I briefly debated on whether or not I should even respond. Ever since I’d been promoted six months prior to the supervisory role of heading up my own team in the finance department at Glamour Cosmetics, Cohen had been making little digs at every opportunity he could. At first I just shrugged it off as minor jealousy. I was moving along in my career while he was still working toward his PhD and teaching freshman-level macroeconomics classes. I didn’t begrudge him his annoyance, in the beginning, but now it was getting real old.

“The only thing that’s changed is my title at work.” And the amount of money in my paycheck, and the responsibilities of my job. But I didn’t feel like I needed to add that in.