The Millionaire Myth (10 page)

             
Mick explained, “Forgive my rudeness,
Stella
is here to help show you around.  We want to make sure you get to see every surprise this place holds.” 

             
Trina grabbed Drew's hand and pulled him toward the entry.  “We can't wait to see it Mick, it looks perfect.”

              After thirty minutes Drew was finished.  Ignoring Trina's whines, he told Mick and I that it just wasn't right.  I had to give Mick credit; he nodded with understanding and we moved on to the next home. 

              Three hours later the perfect home was a distant memory.   We had just said goodbye to Drew and a pouting Trina after viewing four more homes.  None of which were, “quite right.”

             
As soon as Drew's truck turned the corner and disappeared, Mick exploded, “God Dammit!  Do you see what I've been talking about?  That imbecile is a waste of time!!”

             
Surprised, I took a step back to avoid his flailing arms.  “Mick, calm down!  If this is frustrating you this much, then maybe you shouldn't work with them anymore.”

             
Disgusted, he shook his head.  “No way.  He's buying a house.  I just have to find the right one.  I've put in too much time to give up now.”

             
I looked around for a minute, searching for the right words.  I knew my best choice was to agree with Mick, but I didn't.  Drew hadn't come off as a stuck up jerk.  He'd been very nice the entire day, nicer than Mick had been.  I'd watched his face while he looked at the homes, he didn't seem unimpressed, just uninterested.  I had a feeling that he was just along for the ride, and that Trina was at the wheel.  But, I couldn't say any of that to Mick.  “Well, there's no point in hanging around here...take me home?”

             
Without looking at me, he nodded and we made our way to his car.

              Mick stopped in front of my apartment and turned off the ignition.  Though I tried to hurry, he was still able to exit the car before me.   Regretfully, I asked if he'd like to come inside.

             
Of course he had plenty of time to come in.  As pathetic as it was, I knew he wasn't thinking about sleeping with me. He was thinking about working me. There was no way getting me into bed would be more important than a potential commission.

             
I opened the door for him and tossed my bag on the couch.  I hoped he wouldn't remember my lie from earlier about it being a mess; aside from a few dirty dishes in the sink, the place was in good shape.

             
He didn't seem to notice the lack of mess as he assessed the apartment.  “So, just the one bedroom then?”  He asked with just a hint of disapproval.

             
Ignoring his inference I responded, “The one is all I need.”

             
He shrugged and followed me into the kitchen.  “True enough.  I've just gotten so used to having a spare bedroom and an office, it feels like I couldn't live without them now.”

             
“Luckily for me, I don't bring my work home, so I've never needed an office.  Thirsty?” I asked, and handed him a soda before he could answer me.

             
Taking the soda from me, he took stock of my kitchen.  “I can't believe how small this place feels to me...I've owned my house for so long I can barely remember apartment life.”  He sat down at my tiny dining table and added, “I always had to live upstairs; I couldn't take hearing people stomping around above me.”

             
I angled one ear toward the ceiling while I stared at him.  “Don't hear a thing.”  Which was completely atypical.  Normally my upstairs neighbors, Bob and Alan, sounded like they were practicing River Dance moves.  “Besides,” I added, “I would hate dragging groceries upstairs all the time.”

             
“I'll give you that, the stairs were a pain.”  I gave myself an internal high five.  So far I was knocking down every argument.  If he wanted to get me on board as a client, he was going to have to ask me directly.  He continued, “I think that's why I love having my garage.  I just pull right in and it's simple to unload everything.”

             
Persistent Bastard.

             
I resisted the urge to chuck my soda can at him.  “Well, we all have different things that work for us, don't we?

             
He nodded but kept quiet for a minute. I hoped that he was giving up, but he was only changing tactics.  He waved me over to him.  I cautiously got closer and started to pull out the chair next to him when he took my arm and pulled me onto his lap.  Naturally, I thought he was planning on a little foreplay, so I moved my face closer to kiss him. 

             
He leaned back a little and looked at me seriously.  “I think it's time we continued the conversation we started last week.”

             
“Which conversation is that?” I asked, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

             
“You remember.  You had finally started opening up about your grandpa, I was hoping you'd tell me more about him, and the situation.”

             
“Mick, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this.”  What I was really uncomfortable with was our sitting position.  I was never all that comfortable sitting on his lap when we were making out, but trying to converse while wondering how heavy I felt, was like trying to solve and algebra equation in my head while singing
Row Row Row Your Boat
.

             
I started to get up but he wrapped his arms around me in a way that could have been romantic, had it not felt claustrophobic.  “You don't have to be afraid to tell me things, Es-
Stella
.  What happened there, by the way?”

             
“I really don't know,” I answered honestly.  “I just feel like things have changed lately, and Stella just seems to fit me better now.”

             
“Well, I like Stella, but I didn't mind Estelle either.  Now, let's get back to your grandpa.  You can trust me you know.”

             
I took a deep breath and shut my eyes.  I pictured all the qualities that I associated with my new name: confidence, intelligence, youth, courage, and most valuable; strength.  I opened my eyes and looked at Mick.  “Trusting you has nothing to do with it.  It's not about you Mick.  You know what happened; my grandpa died and I inherited some money.  I don't want to talk about it anymore right now.”

             
He shook his head and started to argue with me, but I interrupted, “I appreciate you worrying about me and wanting me to be open with you.  But I don't appreciate you constantly bringing this up when I have made my feelings clear.  So, here's what we'll do: if I want to talk about it, then I know you're willing to listen.  But if I don't bring it up, then you know I'm not interested in talking about it.  Does that work for you?”

             
I could see the surprise in his eyes.  I was pretty surprised myself; I'd never been so direct with him before.  I don't think I'd ever been that direct with anyone.  I was typically so concerned that people would think badly of me, I kept my mouth shut so they wouldn't think anything. 

             
Mick conceded, “Fair enough.”  He rubbed my back and leaned closer.  “Since we're not going to talk...”

             
I stood up and smiled sweetly.  “I'd love to have you stay for a while Mick, but I've got plans with Kami.”

             
“Kami?”

             
“Yes Mick, Kami.  You've met her.”

             
He followed me into the living room.  “I have?”

             
Amused, but not at all surprised, I explained, “Yep.  She worked at Lawson & Stone for two years.  She's the woman who fetched you things before I did.  She got increasingly large for roughly nine months, then she left and I showed up.”  I watched his face show zero recognition.  “Still nothing, huh?  Well, that's okay Mick.  I get it, it took you almost that long to notice me too.”  Just for kicks I added, “I guess if my grandfather hadn't died, and you hadn't so been sensitive to my pain, you still wouldn't know I exist, huh?”

             
Flummoxed, he said, “Estelle I knew who you were.”  I handed him his jacket and opened the door.  Before he stepped out he turned to me and insisted, “I knew who you were.  I'm sorry if I didn't show it.”

             
I waved my hand dismissively.  “Don't sweat it.  See you Monday.”  He started toward his car, but turned back when I said, “Oh and Mick?  Call me Stella.”

Chapter 18

             
I can hardly believe I'm going to say this, but I like going to work every day.  It had been three weeks since I rushed Mick out of my apartment and it finally felt like I was reaping the rewards of my pretend reality.  My new name, Stella had finally caught on, Mick had finally backed off, and everyone was still sucking up just enough to make the days pleasurable.

             
It was almost noon, so when my phone beeped I knew who was calling.  “Hey Gina,” I answered.  “Give me five?”

             
I set the office phone to voice mail, shut down the computer, delivered a listing sheet, then headed for the parking lot.  I was sifting through my bag in search of a mirror when I heard a voice behind me.

             
“Been a while Estelle.”

             
My own name sounded foreign, but the voice was unmistakable.  Charlie.  I whipped around and hissed, “What are you doing here?”

             
He shrugged and answered calmly, “I'm here to see you, of course.  I know we didn't end things on the best note, but what can I say?  I've missed you.”

             
I quickly looked around for Gina.  I was relieved to see that she hadn't come out of the building yet.  If I was lucky I could get rid of him before she saw anything.  I grabbed his forearm and dragged him across the parking lot.  Once we were rounded the corner of the building and were out of view, I forced myself to look at him.  Charlie.

             
I hadn't seen him in almost a year.  Hard to believe it had been that long.  I took in his loose jeans and hoodie. I looked down, not surprised to see a pair of worn out DC shoes. I looked back up to see he still believed in the five o'clock shadow look. Two years ago I thought it was sexy. Two years ago I would have pointed at him and said, “See him? He's my soul mate.”  But that was a while ago.  Long before he stole money from me, spent it at a strip club, then came home drunk enough to admit all of it.

             
“I'll ask you again, what are you doing here?”

             
He moved toward me grabbing at my waist.  “C'mon now, you know you've missed me.  You never could resist me.” He smiled in a way that used to turn me on. “You look good, Babe.”

             
I pushed him back so hard that he hit the wall.  He jerked himself up and stared at me, shocked.  “What the hell, Estelle?”

             
I was shocked too.  I definitely hated him, but I'd never come close to shoving him before.  I glared at him.  “What kind of reception did you expect, Charlie?  You're a thief and a cheat!”

             
Straightening his hoodie, he looked like I had hurt his feelings.  “I know I messed up, but you were never this angry, not even when we broke up.”

             
Stepping forward, I borrowed a stance I'd seen Mick use.  “I'll let you in on a secret Charlie, I am not the same girl you used to know.  Stay the hell away from me.”

             
I started to walk away, but turned back when I heard the threat in his voice, “Not the same girl you used to be, huh?  I know
all about
the new you Estelle.”

             
I stared at his smug grin for a minute, trying to figure out what he was talking about.  Finally I turned back toward the parking lot and saw Gina, staring right at us.

              We had barely ordered our drinks when Gina let me have it.  “Do you really think you're going to avoid telling me the story?  I waited patiently on the drive over, hoping that you would volunteer the dirt, but patience is for losers.”  She urged, “Come on!  Who was that guy?”

             
I rolled my eyes and wrinkled my face.  “Just and ex-boyfriend.  Very,
very
ex.  I haven't seen him in almost a year.  I have no idea what he wants.”

             
She nodded slowly, eyes narrowed.  “He's up to something, that much I know.  I heard what he said, about knowing you've changed.  What was that about?”

             
“I have no clue.  He was so creepy when he said it though, like it was a threat or something...”

             
“Ooooh!  Did you secretly have his baby?  Then give it up for adoption or something like that?”

             
I looked at her skeptically.  “Did they give you something other than water?   What's the matter with you?”

             
She giggled.  “I was just kidding.  It's just that the end of your fight with him seemed very soap opera-y, I took a shot.”

             
“That's gross.  There's nothing creepier than the thought of having a child with
him
.”

             
She held up a finger.  “What about reproducing with Mick?”

             
She had me there.  I shivered.  “Too close to call.”  I thought aloud, “He was probably just screwing with me.  Or making fun of me.  He always said I was so predictable.”

             
Gina scoffed.  “Well he obviously hasn't seen you in a while.  Anyone who knew about your 'inheritance',” she said using air quotes, “would never say you were predictable.”  She looked up excitedly.  “Hey!  Maybe he heard through the grapevine that you're loaded.  Coming around to collect,”  she laughed at her own joke.

             
She stopped laughing when she saw my eyes widen.  “Stella, calm down.  He doesn't know.  He doesn't know anyone besides you at the firm.  How else would he know about it?”

             
Oh my God!