The Millionaire Myth (9 page)

Chapter 17

              I returned from lunch with Gina feeling like I'd lost fifty pounds.  It was so liberating, having someone else in on the secret.  As I told her the stories, Gina had rolled with laughter.  At least she'd forgotten about Steven for awhile. 

             
I told her that I'd been toying with the idea of coming clean.  Or more likely, thinking up a believable lie to cancel out the first one, but she disagreed. 

             
“Why would you do that now, Estelle?  You're already into it, and I can guarantee that no one suspects the truth.  Why not have some fun with it?  Who's ever going to know anyway?”

             
I decided that there was wisdom in that.  Especially when I entered the office and Tess smiled at me.  I could almost hear her thinking, “Loaded Lobby Chick” as she passed by.  What did I have to lose?  Especially now that I'd put the brakes on Mick and I.  What could he do really?  If he tried to pressure me into buying a house, I'd just say no.  It's not as if we had a joint bank account.  If he got pissed about it, well that would just be more entertainment as far as I could see.

             
I had just settled in at my computer, confident about my decision when Mick stomped up to my desk.  “Estelle, We need to talk.  Immediately.”

             
I had just enough time to panic before he pulled my by the hand into the nearest conference room.  He closed the door loudly and took a deep breath before turning on me.  “I need you to explain something to me, because I must be an idiot!”

             
Nope, I'm the idiot.  How could I have trusted Gina?  Of course she would run and tell her real friends.  I'm so screwed.
  “Mick, I don't know what-”

             
He cut me off and implored, “Because who else would be unable to sell a
flawless
home to a man who claims to want just that?  You should have seen this guy today, this
Drew
,” he spit the name out with disdain.  “You've seen how much effort I've exerted for these two, you've been with me through half of it-and still they aren't satisfied.”  He let out a long frustrated breath.  “I have never had this much trouble selling a property.”

             
It took me a few seconds to catch up.  I thought I was busted.  I had to go back over his words to catch on.  “So this is about Trina Bennett?”

             
“Oh no, it's not about her.  She's actually been fairly rational.  It's this boyfriend of hers.  Nothing satisfies him.  I'm out of ideas.  I even suggested that I show them some vacant land, that way they could build whatever little slice of perfection they wanted.” He scoffed. “Want to know what they said? They told me they didn't have that kind of time. Looks to me like they have all the time in the world!”

             
He collapsed against the wall with one hand over his face, the other hanging at his side. His suit jacket was open and I could see his chest moving up and down.  Once again, my feelings for him had switched; from loathing to longing in ten seconds flat.  Impressive.

             
He turned his head and stared at me.  “I need you,” he begged. 

             
I was about to throw myself on him when he finished his sentence, “to help me with this guy.  Please come with me tomorrow to show them some more listings?”

             
Oh, that kind of need.
 

             
I wasn't sure what kind of help I could be.  Other than helping to kick this Drew guy in the shins, when he rolled his eyes because the laundry room didn't have surround sound.  “I'll be there if it helps Mick, but I'm not sure if it will.”

             
He nodded gratefully.  “It will Estelle, trust me.  You should see yourself when you look at these houses.  You always look like you can't believe they exist.  That's just what he needs to see; someone who's completely envious.  It has to work.”

             
Is there anything more satisfying than when your talents are recognized at work? 

             
I really wouldn't know.

              As I got dressed the next morning I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me.  It was Saturday.  Was I salaried?  No.  Did I get any kind of overtime for this?  No.  Was I truly concerned with Mick's success?  Definitely no.  So why was I spending one of my cherished-and rare-days off trolling around with him?  I'd have been looking forward to it if I were looking at the houses for enjoyment.  That's not what this was.  I was just muscle; helping Mick lift a gigantic crowbar that would hopefully pry open a wallet.

             
Yes, I was just a tool.  But, a willing one.  I knew the reason I'd agreed to go along; it was relief.  I was so grateful for a reprieve that I would have agreed to anything.  At least one truth had surfaced; I could never let anyone else know I'd made up the inheritance.  Those few seconds when I thought Mick had found me out were enough to make me certain of that.

             
I was just pulling on my boots when Mick knocked on my door.  I grabbed my purse and opened the door, stepping out as he moved to step inside.  As I was locking the door Mick said, “Wow, you're not going to show me your place?”

             
“No.  I thought we were meeting your clients in a few minutes?”

             
He shook his head.  “Nope.  We're not meeting them for another twenty minutes.  I always get to the houses before my clients.  Show me your place.”

             
I slid my keys into my purse and started toward the parking lot.  “No, let's just go.  I don't want to worry about being late, besides, the place is a mess.”  My apartment was perfectly clean.  I just didn't need him in there, frowning at my lack of cabinetry, my dingy carpet, my thin walls. 

             
“Okay, maybe when I drop you off you'll show me around?”

             
“We'll see, let's just get going, I can't wait to see these houses,” I said, hoping the excitement in my voice was believable.

              We arrived at the first house fifteen minutes early.  It was way too over the top.  After Mick punched in a code on a keypad, we drove though a large automatic gate that opened to a  mile long driveway, that led to the stone walled home. It felt more like a compound than a private residence.

             
Mick shut the large double doors behind us as I stared up at a gigantic chandelier.  It looked like something you'd see in a mansion.  It must have had hundreds of cut crystals hanging from the metal frame, and it was lit by those lights that are made to look like candles.  I disliked it instantly.  “I'm guessing this shack has everything on their if-it's-not-here-you-may-as-well-torch-the-place-list?”

             
He followed my eyes to the lighting monstrosity.  “Oh yeah, and them some. From this grand entrance to the lush gardens, this place has custom everything, including the lighting, imported from Europe.  Impressive, isn't it?”

             
“I suppose so, if this is your taste.  I just can't understand wanting such a big...house.  Can you technically call this a house?  Especially for two people...do they even like each other?”

             
“What are you talking about?” He asked with a confused face.

             
I chuckled.  “Mick, think about it, how would two people even find each other in here?  Are tracking devices included?”

             
He wasn't amused.  “Estelle, don't say things like that, alright?  You're supposed to be impressed by this place.  You sound worse than Drew.”  Again he said the name with distaste.

             
“Well maybe he likes more modern places.  Maybe something more current...and livable,” I suggested.

             
He mocked, “Oh, really?  Maybe you're right...hmm, something modern, I'd never thought of that.  God, Estelle, do you think I'm new to this?  I've shown him modern, I've shown him lofts, I've shown him craftsman, mid-century, nothing works for this guy!”

             
Okay, someone was tense.  All I could think was that maybe Mick needed to show Drew a different agent, but I valued my hide, so I kept that to myself.

             
After a quick tour of the house to ensure that everything was in order, we sat at the island. I noted the counter top, it was a two inch thick layer of glass.  It had a pale aqua color running though it and it looked like ice.  It was gorgeous.  Now this I could understand paying lots of money for. Instantly I put it on my list of must-haves in a home.  If I ever had any money that wasn't imaginary, that is.

             
My admiration of the counter was disrupted by a sharp buzzing.  Automatically, I searched for signs of smoke, assuming that the annoying sound was a smoke alarm.  Mick calmly hopped up and pressed a button that was built into the wall beside the phone.  The buzzing ceased.

             
“What did you just do?” I asked.

             
“Trina is here.  That was the gate buzzer.”  Not noticing my bewildered look, he turned toward the front of the house instructing, “Let's get a move on Estelle, they'll be pulling up in a second.”

             
I rolled my eyes as I slid off the stool mumbling, “Gate buzzer, how stupid.  What ever happened to a doorbell?”  I grudgingly followed Mick to the “grand entrance”.  Simply calling it the front door would probably knock fifty grand off the price.

             
Mick was about to open the door when I grabbed his arm.  “Wait!  What am I doing here?  Who am I supposed to be?” I asked, suddenly panicked.

             
He peeled my fingers from his arm and responded calmly, “
You
are Estelle. 
You
are my assistant.  Relax, you're acting like this is illegal.  If they ask you any questions, just say that you aren't sure of the answer, and relay them to me.  All you have to do is be fascinated by this place, think you can handle that?”

             
Without waiting for an answer, Mick plastered on his winning grin and opened the doors wide.  Peeking out from behind him I saw a big truck pulling up the drive.  I was surprised; I'd expected to see a car more like Mick's.  Though the truck looked new, it was covered in dirt, and had a diamond plate toolbox attached to the bed. You could tell it was actually useful, not just for show. 

             
The truck came to a stop and a tall man in jeans and work boots jumped down from the cab.  Just like his truck, he was in good shape and was clearly familiar with hard work.  I watched with interest as he went around the the passenger side and helped a woman down from the cab.

             
She could have possibly been the thinnest woman I'd ever seen.  And unlike her escort, in stiletto heels and a perfectly tailored suit, she was exactly what I'd expected.  In fact, she and Mick looked like a matched set. 

             
Mick rushed down the front steps with his arms extended.  “Trina!  I am so glad to see you!  Isn't this place incredible?  I just know you-
you
both
,” He nodded at Drew before finishing, “are going to love it.”

             
Trina beamed, and to my shock-and more than a little admiration-hopped up and down in her five inch heels.  “Mick!  I could not believe how breathtaking the drive was!”  She turned to paw at Drew.  “Sweetie!  Wasn't it beautiful?”

             
He grinned slightly and shrugged.  “Yeah, it was a very impressive driveway.”  I was surprised again; he didn't strike me as rude or picky.  From his tone, it seemed like he thought the place was as ludicrous as I did.  Don't get me wrong, I hated his girlfriend on sight, but Drew, he might be tolerable.  Possibly agreeable? 

             
Mick started talking about property lines when Drew interrupted him, “Excuse me,” he addressed me, “Mick didn't introduce us.  Must be the sheer excitement of the property,” he teased.  I noticed Mick's glare aimed at the back of Drew's head.  “I'm Drew.  This is Trina.  And you are?”

             
Drew's eyes were friendly.  Trina's were...inspecting the hardware on the front door.  I took Drew's hand.  “Hi, I'm...I'm Stella.  It's very nice to meet you...both.”  I saw Mick raise his eyebrows, but before he could speak I added, “I'm here today to assist Mick.” 

             
I have no idea why I decided to call myself Stella, it just came out.  Maybe it was Mick calling me his assistant.  Possibly it was the fact that Trina found wrought iron more interesting that meeting me.  Perhaps it was Drew's rapt expression?  Whatever it was, I decided that I wasn't Estelle anymore; I wasn't a timid door mat.  I was Stella; smart, vibrant, and ready for new experiences.