Free The Millionaire Myth by Jennifer Taylor Page B

before.             
                  “What are you up to in here?”
                  I turned around and grinned at him.  “I'm making you dinner.  Well, it's already made.  I cooked it at my place, just wait until you taste it!”
                  He peeked over my shoulder but couldn't see the lasagna because I had the lid back on it.  “Well, it smells great, what've you got under there?”
                  I leaned into him and teased, “Oh, I'm not spoiling the surprise.  Go sit down in there, and I'll bring you a plate.”
                  Mick smiled at me, though it wasn't the most confident smile I'd ever seen.  He grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses before heading to the dining room.
                  A few minutes later I walked in proudly, holding two enormous plates of food.  I set a plate down in front of him and closely watched his eyes get wide when he saw what was for dinner.  Rather, what wasn't for dinner: vegetables of any kind.
                  “So?” I asked expectantly, “What do you think?  Doesn't it look delicious?”
                  Mick stared at his plate as though it held a bloody stump instead of my cheesy, meaty, carbohydrate-riffic lasagna.  I could tell from his expression, he might have preferred the former.
                  Ignoring his blatant look of horror, I picked up my gigantic slice of garlic bread and took a big bite. “This is incredible!  Mick, try it!” I urged, around my mouthful of food.
                  He gingerly picked up his fork and studied the lasagna.  He moved his fork back and forth, looking for the best way to approach the food.  Finally, he cut off a delicate corner and ate it.  “This is really good, Estelle.”  Looking regretfully at his plate he continued, “I just wish I had more room.  I had a huge lunch today and I'm still full from that.”
                  I knew it wasn't the taste of the lasagna, but the caloric content that was tripping him up.  I thought about the best way to react.  If this was the early stages in a typical relationship, of course I would have accepted his excuse.  But, as you know, this wasn't a typical relationship.
                  I dropped my fork onto my plate where it landed with a clatter.  I met his shocked face with a disgusted expression of my own.  “That's great, Mick.  Look, there's really no reason to lie to me, okay?  I got it, you don't like my cooking.”
                  Almost automatically, he argued, “Estelle, that's not it at all!  It really was delicious.”
                  I jumped up from my chair, grabbing his plate as I left the room.  “Just forget it, Mick.”
                  Exactly as I hoped he would, he followed me into the kitchen.  “Estelle, I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings.  You know that I typically eat lighter dinners, and I wasn't expecting this big meal-”
                  I turned on him.  “Oh, so now I have to call you and ask if it's okay to cook you dinner?  My mistake, I thought surprising your boyfriend was supposed to be a good thing.”
                  This was risky on my part.  We'd never broached the subject of boyfriend/girlfriend titles.  I hoped I wasn't pushing it too far.
                  He paused for a second, soaking in my last statement.  He took a deep breath and soothed,  “Estelle, of course it was a nice thing to do.  I really appreciate it.”  Another pause before forcing out the words, “You're a great girlfriend.”
                  I softened my voice and really turned on the sweetness.  “Really?  You think I'm a great girlfriend?  Well, I have news for you, Mick: You're the best boyfriend I've ever had.”
                  I saw his face twist slightly to