Mike Bean, sitting in the passenger seat of the old Ford Crown Victoria, turned to look at Marissa, a sheet of irritability clearly written all over his chubby face. Mumbling something under his breath, he turned his head one hundred eighty degrees away and glared out of the window. Marissa, driving in heavy downtown traffic, shot a glance toward him and sighed in frustration. Mike’s body was a ball of putty as he sat in the seat. His shoulders were sagging, his chin was barely above his breastbone, his hands fidgeting with each other as they lay on his thighs.
Clearly Mike was not happy. And when he wasn’t happy, she wasn’t happy. Shooting him another quick glance, she frowned and decided to pry whatever it was bothering Mike out into the light of day.
“Goddammit, spit it out, Mike. Sto
