The Millionaire Myth (2 page)

Chapter 4

             
The next Monday morning I went into work ready to put my plan into action.  After going through all the possibilities with Kami, I knew just who to approach.  I got to work fifteen minutes early so that I could catch Cathy alone.  She was always there before everyone else, but not because she was an overachiever.  She was a busybody who liked to look through everyone's mail and see if there was any juicy information.  She lived for gossip and often pretended to be a sympathetic ear just long enough to get the dirt.  In short, she was perfect.

             
Before rounding the corner of the break room I looked down at my outfit.  My shirt was buttoned wrong and my skirt was wrinkled.  I ran a hand over my frizzy hair.  Usually I flat ironed it and left it down, but today I'd let it air dry and thrown it into a messy ponytail.  I put on a little makeup, which consisted of eye shadow and lipstick, but I skipped the blush.  I wanted to give the impression that I'd tried to look normal, but failed miserably.

             
I walked into the room slowly, letting out a gigantic and way too over-the-top sigh and headed straight for the coffee.  I knew instantly that my effort was worth it, because Cathy immediately snapped to attention, her eyes following me like a hawk eying it's prey.  She knew a target when she saw one.

             
With my back to her, I started to make the coffee.  I couldn't held but grin when I heard her ask softly, “Hon, are you alright?”  Keep in mind, this is a woman who typically never speaks to me.  Not even to spread her much-loved gossip.  I'm simply not in the loop.

             
This was already a blast and I hadn't even started.  With a little tremble in my voice I said, “Um, yeah I'm okay...”  I hoped it was believable.  “I just uh, didn't have a very good weekend.” 

             
Cathy sidled up to me in an instant, and put her hand on my shoulder, gently cooing, “Oh, Estelle, I'm sorry to hear that.”  She tilted her head, looking at me with sympathy.  “You think it might help to talk about it?”

             
I knew she'd take the bait.  I didn't want to spill everything too quickly though.  I'm a red-blooded American girl after all; I know hard-to-get never fails.  I shook my head and grabbed a tissue, dabbing at my imaginary tears.  “No.  I don't want to get upset all over again.”  I smiled sadly at her.  “Thanks for asking though, I appreciate it.”

             
Cathy watched me closely for a moment before returning to the other side of the room. With another deep sigh I started to fill my mug with coffee.  It was about half full when I set the pot back down and leaned over the table.  I could sense Cathy watching me.  I shook my shoulders, pretending to fight back the sobs.  I heard her gasp and return to my side.

             
She rubbed my back, which made my skin crawl.  I could do without the touching.  “Estelle, you have got to tell me what going on.  Are you alright?”

             
It felt like I'd put up enough fight.  Time to let her know about my horrible-yet lucrative-weekend. 

             
I began with the words that would guarantee my news traveled through texts, emails, and word of mouth at lightening speeds.  “You have got to
promise
that you wont tell anyone about this...I can't have this news all over the office.”

             
Cathy nodded solemnly and used one of her fake, cherry red nails to cross her heart like she was a twelve year old girl.  “I promise.”

             
I took another deep, shaky breath.  “Okay.  Friday evening my grandfather passed away.”  I rubbed my eyes, hoping I could get that red-eyed, crying all night look.  “He and I were very close, and he was always spoiling me.”  I lowered my voice, “I'm going to miss him so...much.”

             
At this point I started breathing fast and leaned over, holding my stomach.  Cathy grabbed a chair.  “Here, sit down.  You poor thing.  That must have been just horrible for you.”

             
I had to admit, she talked a good game.  I was starting to think she really felt bad for me.  I began to feel guilty, maybe this was going too far. But then I peeked at her and saw the unmistakable glint of excitement in her eyes.  Seeing it erased my tiniest shred of hesitation.

             
“It was awful, but that wasn't even the worst part.  Yesterday the family met with my grandfather's lawyer.”  I paused for a second, and I swear I saw drool on her lip.  “There was a huge fight over his will.”

             
I grabbed another Kleenex and blew my nose while Cathy teetered on the edge of her seat, dying to know what happened.  Once she heard the word “will” I had her.  She took a breath to speak but held back.

             
I shook my head and raised my voice, “I can't believe my family.  My grandfather just
died
, and all anyone could think about was their piece of the pie.  My mother isn't even speaking to me now because she can't believe he left me all his cash.”  Before Cathy could ask me the big question, I rambled on, “And it's not as though she didn't get
anything
.  Grandpa left her both properties, and all five vintage cars.  All that must be worth a lot, right?”  I looked over at Cathy, searching for an answer.

             
She stared at me, and her shocked expression was hysterical.  I held back my laughter as she responded,  “Um, well yeah.  I guess that depends on your definition of a lot.  Did you get more than what all that is worth?”

             
Gotta hand it to Cathy, the woman had tact.  I hesitated and looked at my untouched coffee.  “Well, I don't know what the houses are worth.  And I know nothing about cars, much less vintage ones.  But still, the building in Manhattan alone must be worth a lot, and the estate in San Francisco...”

             
Cathy's eyes got big, but to her credit, she resisted flat out asking what I got...for about thirty seconds.  “Do you mind me asking how much your grandfather left you?”

             
I looked at her wide-eyed.  “Well, I don't really want to say the exact amount, but after all of the taxes and everything, I'm going to get close to a million dollars.” 

             
I know I said I didn't want to say a million, but I was on a roll and it just came out.  Cathy's face was priceless.  Her mouth dropped open and she stared at me in amazement.  She was about to speak when I heard the front door chime as someone entered the office.

             
I looked at her in terror and whispered,  “Don't tell anyone, okay Cathy?  You promised, remember?” 

             
She nodded and smiled at me.  I could only assume she was trying to decide who to share the big news with first.  My money was on Slick.  I knew she had a little thing for him.  “Don't you worry, I won't tell a soul.”  She stood up and headed for the front of the office.  She turned and said, “You just take it easy today, okay?  Remember that your grandpa loved you.”

             
As she left the room I thought I heard her mumble, “obviously” but I couldn't be certain.  Once I was alone, I stood up, poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and sauntered toward my desk.  I think it was the most I'd ever accomplished in the first fifteen minutes of work. 

             
Let the games begin...

Chapter 5

              Mondays were usually busy, and this one was no exception.  The entire office was buzzing-well, whispering.  I sat behind my desk, returning emails, receiving faxes, answering the phones, and ignoring the blatant stares.  About ten minutes after Cathy and I finished our heart to heart, Slick walked by my desk.  I was looking at a new listing, and pretended not to notice his stare as he passed by.

             
This was harder than I thought it would be.  I was really struggling not to grin.  Determined to play the part to perfection, I kept my face placid.  I knew that ignoring the curious looks played into my story.  I kept my head down as though at any moment the grief might wash over me.

             
Slick must have been keeping tabs on me, because as soon as I returned from lunch-I eat in my car, where I can listen to the radio and not be judged for the mayonnaise on my sandwich and calories in my soda-and sat down behind my desk, he appeared from nowhere.

             
Leaning over my desk-and invading my personal space-he looked at me with sympathy.  I met his eyes and waited for him to speak.  I knew he wasn't here to bark a new order at me.  He had “sell it” face on.  He looked into my eyes for a few seconds, which wasn't entirely unpleasant.  Weasel that he was, he was also incredibly good looking, as you'd expect from someone so successful in this business.  His brown eyes looked warm for the first time as he let out a deep breath and whispered, “I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do for you.  I heard about...”  He shook his head at the tragedy of it all.  “What happened.”

             
I shrugged and gave him a weak smile.  “It's so sweet of you to check on me.”  I sighed and touched his hand.  Come on, can you blame me? I might as well take full advantage of the situation.

             
Surprised at my gesture, he looked down at my hand.  Recovering quickly, he gave it an encouraging squeeze, then met my eyes again. “I feel for you.  Believe me, I've been there.”  He paused and looked down as though he was struggling to remain composed before continuing, “I lost my grandfather almost three years ago.  I still miss him.”

             
I gave him my best sympathetic, “Awwww”, then told him I'd be okay once a little time had passed.  He finally peeled himself off my desk, but not before reminding me that he'd do anything to help.  As I watched the back of his tailored suit disappear down the hallway, I wondered if his dead grandfather was as imaginary as mine.

             
The last couple hours of my workday passed with little incident.  I did manage to corner Cathy in one of the conference rooms.  I asked her why she told everyone about my grandfather.  How could she take my tragedy and turn it into mere entertainment?  Who would do something like that? 

             
You know, besides me.

             
She apologized and told me that she had just been so upset that she had to tell someone.  Such a sensitive soul, to be heartbroken over
my
grandfather's death.  She must have a heart of gold.  Or more likely, a mute conscience.

             
I wasn't surprised by her excuse.  I knew she'd been confronted about spilling secrets more times than I could count.  She had mastered the art of spin.  Little did she know, that was the exact reason I picked her.  After she apologized, I told her I understood.  Then I thanked her for being there for me, and being a real friend.  I know, I have a serious knack for this.

             
By the end of the day I was tired of acting depressed.  In reality, I'd had one of the best days of work since I'd started there over a year ago.  I knew the hardest part was over.  I'd still have to act a little sad, but I would slowly edge that off, and get into the fun part; watching these hyenas fight to the death over me.

* * *

              Tuesday morning I arrived at work looking a little better.  I had my kinky hair up in a ponytail again, mainly because it was really nice to skip the hairdo ritual.  Back in high school, my hair was my favorite feature.  I'd pretend to be jealous of my friends' straight hair, but secretly I loved watching them struggle with home perms, just to get hair like mine.  Oh, how the tables had turned.  Now the women with straight hair have it made and it's my turn to suffer.

             
So, my hair was still a mess, but I had managed to iron and correctly button my clothes.  It was quiet all day, which was typical for a Tuesday, but it also worked great with my “situation”.  I smiled a little bit, which I have to say is not typical.  I couldn't believe all the friendly nods and how-are-you-this-morning?'s I got from everyone who crossed my path.  Did these people really think I was an idiot, or were they just hoping I would forget what they were really like?  Did they really think I believed their sympathetic, caring act?  Like I couldn't figure out that it was the mystery windfall that had them all being so sweet?

             
My phone rang around ten.  It was Kami, she wanted to meet for lunch.

             
“I can't meet you for lunch.  The restaurants will be packed.  There's no way we'll be out of there in an hour.”

             
“I thought you were going to play this little act of yours all the way?  Estelle, you just lost a loved one.  We'll have a nice lunch, and before you go back in, put in a few eye drops for that teary look.  No one will say a thing.”

             
“Wow Kami.”  I lowered my voice to a whisper, “Should I be worried that you're so good at lying?”

             
She laughed. “Shut up.  I just figure that if you're going to benefit from this deal, so should I.  My mom's watching LBJ, so I'm free.  This offer is only good until noon.”

             
“You've got yourself a deal, lady.  Want to meet at that seafood place on the corner?”

             
“Oooh, yeah.  Seafood sounds so good.  See you at noon.”

* * *

              I returned from my hour lunch after an hour and a half.  I walked into the office, fearing a public reprimand about my tardiness.  People milled about, but no one even looked up at me.  I guess Kami had been right.

             
I noticed the flowers immediately.  Sitting on my desk was a tall crystal vase filled with two dozen yellow roses.  I shook my head as I searched for the card among the stems.  Flowers were not out of the ordinary, clients would often send a bouquet as a thank you to their agent.  I always thought it was an insane gesture.  To me, if anyone should be sending the flowers, it should be the agent, with a card that read, “thanks for the gigantic commission.”

             
Pulling the card from the center of the flowers, I was shocked to see my name on the little envelope. 

             
I looked around self-consciously.  Who on earth would send me flowers?  I wasn't dating anyone, and it wasn't my birthday again, thank goodness.  God knows that came around often enough as it was.  The it hit me: Kami.

             
I sat down in my chair, marveling at her genius.  And she says I'm the sneaky one.  It was such a good idea, of course I would be getting sympathy flowers after a death in the family.  I eyed the gorgeous blooms.  They must have cost a fortune.  I was going to have to pay her back for them.

             
I opened the card, prepared to read her pretend wishes, and was shocked by what I saw.  On the tiny card, written in sloppy florist handwriting was this note:

Estelle,

Yellow roses signify friendship,

and that's what I'm hoping to have with you. 

I know you're going through a hard time,

and I wanted to brighten your day. 

Please know that if you want to talk, I'm here.

Mick.

              I leaned back in my chair, completely stunned.
Slick
sent me the flowers?  Again I looked up at the bouquet, now even more impressed by them.  It had been a long time since I'd gotten flowers, especially beautiful ones like these. I smiled as I thought of Slick, ordering these, trying to butter me up. Funny, most men sent flowers to get into a woman's pants. But these flowers were to get into my purse.

             
Regardless of his real motives, I had to play this right. I channeled my grieving granddaughter emotions. Slick would expect me to be touched, comforted, flattered. I could do that.

             
I was about to go find him and thank him, but I wasn't sure if that was the right move.  Should I thank him, or wait for him to approach me?  I felt awkward suddenly, like...like we had just been on a date and I was trying to decide if it was too early to call.  Call...

             
I picked up my phone and dialed his extension.  He picked up on the first ring, “You've got Mick.”

             
I giggled.  Why the hell did I giggle?  “Mick, hi it's Estelle.  I just wanted to thank you for the gorgeous flowers.  I can't believe you did that.  They're...they're  incredible, thank you.”

             
“Estelle, you are very welcome.  I'm glad you liked them.  I've just been thinking about you all morning, even with your loss, you've shown up and worked hard. Most people don't have that kind of strength. I thought you deserved something beautiful to look at.”

             
I smiled.  I had no idea why I was smiling, we were on the phone, he couldn't see me.  And I felt jittery...excited.  Oh good God, was I getting a crush on Mick?  I mean Slick?  This was bad, even in my head I was starting to refer to him by his real name.

             
What was the matter with me?  Admittedly, he was saying some very nice things, but they weren't what he really thought. A little flattery wasn't reason enough to suddenly forget this man's true colors, was it?  No.

             
You will not forget who you're dealing with here.  This man will do anything for a sale.

             
I wiped the smile off my face and sat up straight in my chair.  My voice back to it's normal tone I said, “I don't want to keep you away from your many clients.  I just wanted to say thank you.”

             
“You're very welcome, Estelle.  I'm glad I could make you smile.”

              I was shutting down my computer at the end of the day when I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I turned around to see Slick grinning at me.  Out of reflex I looked behind me.  I still wasn't used to him smiling at me.  “What?”  I asked, in a tone that was less friendly than I'd planned.

             
Slick picked up on my brusqueness and his smile dropped.  “I didn't mean to bother you.  Are you in a rush to leave?”

             
I was in a rush to get home to my couch and my Netflix, but I wasn't going to tell him that.  “No, not at all, I was just surprised to see you.  I thought you'd left a while ago.”

             
He shook his head.  “Nope.  I thought I might have an early night, but I got a call a few minutes ago.  A new client, she wants to see some homes tomorrow, so I'm off to preview some listings tonight.” 

             
His expression made me think he was about to ask me for a favor.  “Let me guess, you need me to pull up some listings for you?”  I took my bag off my shoulder and started to turn my computer back on.

             
He reached out and took my arm before I reached the power button.  “No, of course not.  I wouldn't ask you to do that now, when you're almost off work.”  I raised an eyebrow at him.  Possibly he'd lost his short term memory, since he'd had me pull last minute listings twice the week before.  He caught my expression and chuckled.  “Okay, so maybe I have asked you to do that before, but I wouldn't think of doing that now.”  He softened his voice, “Not with everything you've been through lately.”

             
Standing up straight, he clapped his hands together, his voice full of enthusiasm, “Now, back to what I wanted to ask you...I thought you might want to take a spin with me and check out some houses?”

             
He looked unsure of my answer.  Of course he hardly knew me, so he had no idea how much I loved looking at houses, but there was no comparison; looking at houses kicked Netflix's ass.

             
He obviously mistook my stunned silence for hesitation because he quickly added, “Don't think I'm just going to use you just for a second opinion, of course.  I thought after we checked a few of them out I could treat you to dinner?  Any place you like.”  He looked so hopeful.  “Interested?”

             
Ding ding ding, we have a winner!
  “Um, sure.  Sounds like fun.  Plus, I think getting out would be good for me...help to take my mind off things.”