"I beg your pardon?"
"I like your slip," he said.
"Oh," she said. "Thank you."
She raised his hand to her mouth and kissed it.
There was the howl of a siren. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw a Highway car behind him and dropped his eyes to the large round speedometer of the Mercedes. The indicator was pointing just beyond seventy.
"Shit," he said, freed his hand, and moved into the right lane.
The Highway car pulled up beside him. The police officer in the passenger seat gestured imperiously for him to pull to the curb, the gesture turning into a friendly wave as Officer Jesus Martinez, a stricken look on his face, recognized the commanding officer of the Highway Patrol. The Highway car suddenly slowed and fell behind.
"I hate that," Pekach said. "Getting caught by my own men."
"Then you shouldn't speed, Precious." Martha laughed. "You should see your face!"
"It's this damn car," Pekach said. "They don't know it. If we were in my car, that wouldn't have happened."
"Then you should drive this car more, so they get to know it."
"I couldn't drive your car to work," he said.
"Why not?"
"Because it's yours."
"Let me give it to you, then."
"Martha, Goddammit, stop!"
"We've been over this before," she said. "It makes me happy to give you things."
"It's not right," he said.
"I love you and I can easily afford it, so what's wrong with it?"
"It's not right," he repeated.
"Sorry," Martha said.
"Honey, you always giving me things…"He searched for the words. "It makes me feel less than a man."
"That's absurd," she said. "Look at yourself! As young as you are, being a captain. Commanding Officer of Highway. You're worried about being a man?"
He didn't reply.
"And that's not the only manly thing you do very well," Martha said. She leaned over and put her tongue in his ear and groped him.
"Jesus, honey!"
"You must be getting tired of me," Martha teased. "I remember when you used to like that."
"I'm not tired of you, baby," he said. "I could never get tired of you."
"So then let me give you the car."
"Will you ever quit?"