The Millionaire Myth (5 page)

             
Slick watched me sit down, then came up and perched on the corner of my desk.  “Hey, Estelle?  I was wondering if you might be up for checking out some more houses tonight?”

             
I struggled to meet his eyes, surprised to see that they were full of warmth.  “Uh, maybe.  What houses?” 

             
“You remember that woman, Ms. Bennett?  She wants to look at some more places tomorrow, and I really want to preview them first.”  He cocked his head and raised one eyebrow.  “Didn't we have fun last time?”

             
I shrugged.  “Yeah...I mean, sure it was fun, but I don't know...”

             
He chuckled and put his hand over his heart.  “Estelle!  You really know how to hurt a guy, you know?”  He pleaded, “Please?  Look how pathetic I am, I
need
you.  I really want a smart woman's opinion on these places.  What do you say?”

             
He was so smooth.  I suddenly thought of Joe, a guy from high school.  He was such a jerk; so cocky and mean.  He liked to tease everyone, but he was so cute.  He never went one day in school without a girlfriend.  I hated him and loved him with equal passion.  Of course, being the spaz that I was, the only attention I ever got from him was the gut-wrenching, teasing variety.

             
Slick was just like Joe; even though I'd watched him eviscerate Tess not five minutes ago, all I could think about were his brown eyes and nice car and big houses and...

             
“Hang on.”  I held my hand up as a warning.  “I'll agree to look at houses, but I insist on choosing the dinner place.”

             
He threw his head back and laughed.  “I knew you were going to bring that up!  Deal.  So, after work, we'll drop off your car again?”

             
It made sense to me.  I wanted to pick up an extra change of clothes anyway-can't be too careful.

Chapter 7

             
The next morning I was shocked into consciousness by my ringing phone.  After taking a second to wonder who would call me so early, I wiggled over to the edge of the bed and grabbed the phone.  “What?”  I all but barked.

             
“What do you mean, '
what?
'  Where are you?”  It was Kami, barking right back at me, as only a best friend can.

             
I pawed the nightstand for my glasses.  They were missing again.  Why was it that regardless of how carefully I placed them on the table, they always moved in the middle of the night?  Blind without my glasses, I grumbled and sat up in bed.  Leaning to within an inch of the alarm clock, I made out the time: 10:27. 
Shit.

             
“Oh my God, Kami, I'm an idiot.  I'm sorry.  Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be there, okay?”

             
“Fine.  Fifteen minutes,” she huffed in a tone that told me all was not forgiven.

             
I bolted out of bed and grabbed some clothes.  As I put my incessantly curly hair up in a bun and brushed my teeth, I thought of what to say to Kami.  We usually talked nightly, and I hadn't returned her calls all week.  I hadn't even listened to the messages.  It wasn't intentional, I'd just been so busy with work and my evening field trips with Mick, the only time I'd spent at home was to shower and sleep.  I zipped out the door, hoping that if I hurried I could make it to the store in ten minutes.

             
As I jogged up the sidewalk I saw Kami leaning against the building.  She had her head back against the wall and her arms crossed.  I knew the pose.  I'd seen her use it when LBJ was testing her nerves.  Hopefully she wouldn't put me in a time out.

             
Before she could say anything I pleaded, “Don't hate me, okay?  I'm sorry.”

             
“Estelle, don't give me that puppy-dog face.  I'm not your dad or your boyfriend.”

             
“I know, you are way better than either one.  You are my best friend.  My understanding,
forgiving
best friend.”

             
She opened the front door and scoffed, “Don't push your luck.  You know I get one free Relaxurday a month.  And you already made me drink my coffee alone.”

             
You might be asking yourself, what is a Relaxurday? It's what Kami calls our Saturday's together. It was our standing appointment.  Kami and Jack-the adult one-gave each other one Saturday a month off.  He spent his with his friends, usually playing basketball, or more likely, video games.  We spent ours the same way every time: Coffee at the corner Starbucks, then shopping (mostly browsing).  After that we'd grab lunch, where we agreed to never order anything healthy.  We'd cap the day with either a manicure or pedicure.  And if we were feeling downright crazy, we'd go for the full treatment.

             
Judging from Kami's attitude, I could tell I'd be springing for her mani/pedi.  I knew she cherished our Relaxurdays, and I'd been blowing her off a little.  Following her into the store, I vowed to be at my best; I'd be the most entertaining, attentive best friend on the market today.

             
After a day that felt never-ending, we grabbed a late lunch.  Kami had been civil throughout the day (the new shoes perked her up a bit), but even despite my constant banter, she barely defrosted.  After we'd ordered our cheeseburgers I saw her check her watch for the third time since we'd sat down.

             
“What's going on?  Do you have to get home early or something?”

             
She looked up at me with an expression I couldn't place.  “No.  I have all day.  But I'm sure you've got to leave early, right?”

             
“No.  I never have to leave early.”

             
She shrugged and flipped through the dessert menu.  “Well, that
used
to be true.  But we both know you're a lot busier now.”

             
I studied her posture.  Something was going on.  She was sitting up perfectly straight, her shoulders back.  She looked like...like someone who was ready for a fight.  I realized with dread that I was the one in the ring with her.

             
Hoping to ease the tension, I teased,  “Yeah, I'm
so
busy with all my new friends.”

             
She shook her head sharply.  Apparently joking was the wrong move.  “Exactly what I was thinking.  Do you realize you haven't returned any of my calls this week?  Then on top of everything, you forgot all about today.”

             
“Whoa!  Kami, what's going on with you?  I overslept.  It's not like I meant to miss coffee-”

             
“Why did you oversleep?  You're usually up by nine.”

             
I stammered, “Um, I...I got in later than usual last night.”  I averted my eyes, feeling as if I'd missed curfew and was being grilled by my mom.

             
“Yeah, and I bet I know who drove you home last night too.  How is Slick anyway?”

             
I knew I was in trouble.  Kami and I were close enough that I knew how she worked.  I'd seen her like this with Jack, and I'd always been thankful I wasn't her target.  When angry she was like a dog on a bone.  I was about to be eaten alive.

             
“Kami, come on.  Don't tell me you're jealous of Slick?  We both know he's only interested in my pretend stash of cash.”

             
“Yeah, I do know that.  But I don't know why you're willing to play along when you know he's just using you.”

             
I leaned back in my seat, embarrassed at her harsh words.  “I'm using him too.  I'm using all of them.  Now everyone talks to me, takes me to lunch, asks my opinions on listings...it's fantastic.”  I reasoned, “Besides, you thought it was a good idea too.”

             
She shook her head and argued, “I didn't say it was a good idea.  I said it would be funny.  But it's getting a little out of hand, Estelle.  I thought you were just going to see how they changed.  I didn't think
you
were going to change.”

             
“Change?  I have
not
changed,” I disputed.

             
“Let's cut through it, Estelle.  You love all the attention.  And I don't blame you, really.  But going out to dinner with Slick last week?  And again last night?  Next thing I know you'll be bonding with Gina and Tess.”

             
I looked down at my untouched burger.  It was already getting cold.  I took a drink of my soda, hoping she'd calm down and we could change the subject.

             
She was silent as I carefully studied the ketchup bottle.  After too long of a pause, I got suspicious and looked up.  Her eyes were wide and I could see her wheels were spinning.  “Wait a second...I haven't heard you mention the gruesome twosome in quite a while...”

             
“So?  I haven't seen them around much.”

             
She challenged, “Really?  You always have something to say about them, even if it's just about their clothes...”

             
I confessed, “Fine Kami.  Tess and Gina took me to lunch the other day.” She took a breath to speak, but I cut her off.  “Don't even say it.  We're not friends, and I was going to tell you about it, but you didn't give me a chance.”

             
“I didn't give you a chance?  I must have missed all those calls from you, the ones where you were dying to tell me all about it, the ones where you apologized-.”  She set her napkin on the table and dug through her purse.  “I guess now that you have new friends you don't need your old one any more.”

             
From the tremble in her voice I knew she was about to cry.  “Kami, you know that's not true.  I tell you everything.”

             
“You used to.  You used to call me all the time, complaining about the agents and the office.  And I was always there to listen.”  She scooted to the edge of the booth, turning back to me.  “I guess now I'll have to make some new friends too, maybe some that wont drop me when a better deal comes along.”

             
She was actually going to walk out on me.  I sat there dumbfounded, watching my best friend essentially dump me in a public restaurant.  How had this happened so fast?  “Wait!” I yelped.

             
She turned back, eyebrows raised expectantly.

             
“Kami, what's the real problem?  I know you can't be this angry because of one week of missed calls.”

             
She leaned down toward me.  “Maybe you're right, it was just one week, like any other week in my life.  I hope all your new pals are worth trading in your old ones.”  She chuckled slightly and added, “Have you thought about how long this will last?  How long do you think Slick will wait?  At some point, Estelle, he's going to collect.”

Chapter 8

             
I had no idea what time it was.  I knew it was dark...inside the bar at least.  After Kami walked out of the restaurant, it took me a few minutes to get myself together.  I paid the bill, grabbed my purse and started the walk back to my apartment.  I was so confused about Kami.  Part of me knew there had to be something I'd missed.

             
A much larger part of me however, was completely pissed.  I knew she was jealous of me.  She'd worked at Lawson & Stone for years, and had never once had lunch with an agent, much less intimate dinners.

             
I decided to walk around for a while instead of going home. I was still so confused. I walked for hours, still no closer to an answer. And as much as I'd hoped for one, still no call from Kami.

             
I was still walking and thinking, when a woman bumped into me.  She was giggling, her arm around the waist of an equally giggly man.  They stumbled down the street, blissfully unaware of what anyone thought of them.  Suddenly I wanted to be that girl.  I turned and headed through the door they'd just exited and plopped down onto the nearest bar stool.

             
I had no idea how much time had passed, but I knew I was on my fourth martini.  The bar stool hadn't changed, but the atmosphere in the bar had morphed.  When I first sat down it was almost empty, with that sad, “if you're drinking this early, you're an alcoholic” vibe.  Now the tables were full, the music was blaring, and the bartenders were hopping.

             
I was definitely drunk, but not so drunk that I didn't notice the only stares I got were from the bartender.  And typical of my luck, they weren't the I-wanna-lay-you-down-right-here kind of stares.  They were more in the neighborhood of, man-how-am-I-going-to-get-this-train-wreck-outta-my-bar variety.  Fortunately, I found that if I played with the olive in my glass I could block his stares out.

             
Until he actually spoke to me.  He approached in response to me waiving my empty glass at him.  “Sorry, babe.  I'm cutting you off.”

             
I leaned over the bar and attempted to purr, “Hey now, you're not going to turn me away are you?”  Unfortunately, purr gave way to slur halfway into the sentence and none of it was coherent.

             
Frowning, he took my glass away.  “You want me to call you a cab?”

             
“NO!  I DON'T NEED A CAB!  WHAT?  YOU DON'T THINK I HAVE ANY FRIENDS I CAN CALL??!”

             
He held up his hands defensively and backed away.

             
I dug out my phone and squinted at my contacts.  I knew that Kami wouldn't be able to turn me away if I called her for a ride.  We'd have this patched up by the time she dropped me off at my place.

             
“Hello?”

             
“Hello?” 
That's not Jack.

             
“Yes, hello?”

             
“Who the hell is this?” I yelled into the phone, “Why are you answering Kami's phone?  I swear to God, if you're sleeping with her I'm going to kick your ass!”  Granted, the martinis might have been a little stronger than I thought.

             
“Estelle?”

             
How did this guy know my name?  Was Kami sleeping with someone we both knew?  Gross! 
“Who is this?”

             
I heard a deep chuckle come through the phone.  “Having too much fun tonight?  Shouldn't you know who this is? You called me. It's Mick.”

             
“Mick?”  I stared at the bar for a second before it hit me.  Kami's last name was Sawyer.  Right above the entry for Slick.  Whoopsie. 

             
I could hear amusement in his voice when he answered, “Yep, it's still me.  Did you just call to yell at me for sleeping with...Kami, was it?  Rest assured, she's all yours, I've never slept with a Kami before.”

             
“Shut up, Mick.  I didn't mean to call
you
.  I meant to call someone I can depend on.  Bye.”

             
I hung up the phone and was eying my phone list for the second time when the phone rang.  Without bothering to check the caller ID before answering, I squawked, “WHAT?!”

             
“Sorry to bother you again, I just thought you might not want to call your friend.”

             
Exasperated, I huffed, “Why not?”

             
“Well, because it's 11 pm, and she may not be happy with a booty call coming in this late.”

             
I bellowed, “What?  I wasn't calling her for a booty call!  She's my friend.  I need a ride-”

             
“A ride?” Slick asked suggestively, “Is that an invitation?”

             
Still in my martini haze, I couldn't follow the quick banter.  “What?  Never mind.  If it's that late, I'll call a cab.  Sorry I woke you.”

             
“You didn't wake me.  Where are you?”

             
I looked around, searching for some sign of my location.  All I saw were dartboards, bottles, and a ton of people.  “I have no idea.”

             
Another chuckle made it's way to my ear.  “Estelle, hand your phone to the bartender.  Judging from your state-and volume-he'll be the one glaring at you with his arms crossed.”

             
I looked up, annoyed to see that Slick was spot on.  Mr. Surly was staring at me, arms crossed.  It was apparent that he wanted me gone.  I held out my phone.  “Someone wants to speak to you.”

             
I watched as he listened, nodded, gave out a name I couldn't quite make out, then slid my phone back over the bar.  I managed to throw my arm over it before it slid off onto the floor.  “Hey!  You almost broke my phone!”

             
“Well, if you can afford to drink all night, then you could afford a new phone.”

             
I glared at him.  “You know, I'd think a bartender would be used to dealing with drinkers, call me crazy!”

             
Before walking to the other end of the bar he scoffed and said, “I'm plenty used to it, lady.  Doesn't mean I like it.”

             
I spent the next few minutes sending dirty looks over to Mr. Surly.  Before long Slick was sitting beside me.  He leaned in close, examining my face.  “Wow. Rough night, Champ?”

             
Agitated, I pushed him away from me.  “I'll take a lift, but skip the judgments, alright?  My night has sucked enough already.”

             
Slick grabbed my purse and helped me off the stool.  It occurred to me that my original intention had been to leave the bar full of giggles and free of worries.  Somehow, the reverse had happened.  My head was spinning and I knew the worst was still to come.

             
Slick opened the car door and started to help me in when I stopped him.  “This is all wrong.”  I shook my head as I studied his jacket.  It was a suit jacket.  Who leaves their house at eleven at night in a suit jacket?  Has he ever been unprepared for anything?

             
His words snapped me out of my haze, “What's wrong?”

             
“This...everything.  Tonight was supposed to be fun, I wanted to forget about everything.”  I stared at his lips, realizing that I still had a chance to have some fun.  Before I had time to rethink it, I reached up and kissed Mick...Slick, whoever. 

             
At first he pulled back a little, obviously shocked.  Now, had I been even remotely sober, it would have been awkward enough to make me stop my pursuit.  Instead, I pulled him in closer and kissed him harder.  After a moment, I felt him lean in and respond. 

             
Finally, something this man does that doesn't piss me off!
  We kissed for a few minutes, leaning against the car.  I broke away just long enough to whisper, “Take me to your place.”

             
Without hesitation he answered, “You got it.”

             
I flopped backwards into the car and Slick jogged around to the driver's side.  I was surprised at how quickly he'd said yes.  Of course, it was an offer of sex, and he was a man.  I was just used to the type that would immediately ask something like, “are you sure?” 

             
I felt the engine rev as Slick whipped the Mercedes out into traffic.  I decided I liked his response much better.