“Hmmm, I’ve been thinking that I might want to blow at least half of it on some killer shoes. Maybe some Jimmy Choo’s?” she giggled.
I knew that wasn’t her style, but I loved to hear her laugh so I entertained it. “Well then I’m calling Jimmy right now and telling him to get his ass to Phoenix.” I said and she laughed some more.
After a moment, I grew serious though. “Seriously though, you can do whatever you want with it. I meant it when I said it was yours.”
She looked at me and a smile spread across her face. “I don’t need it Reed, I have you and Jr. That’s enough for me.”
I knew that I was the luckiest man in the world; luckier than I deserved to be.
“I have a surprise for you,” I told her, reaching into the drawer of the night stand and pulling out some legal papers. I handed them to her and watched her face as she read them.
“Are these real?” she asked, tears springing to her eyes.
“They’re real,” I assured her.
I had purchased a gallery just for Bella to showcase her work and set aside a hefty sum of money for scholarships for local kids to be able to attend art schoo, and I’d put it all in her name.
“No one besides my mother has ever believed in me like this,” she said, wiping at her tears.
“Well, I do. I love you, Bella.”
And just like that, all was right in my world.
The End
BEST SELLER: ROCK HARD MOUNTAIN MAN
A Billionaire and a Virgin Romance
CHAPTER ONE: MAGGIE DEAN
I hated going to the mailbox. Nothing good ever came in the mail addressed to me. Some days the box was just crammed full of junk mail that I could toss in the trash without ever opening. I loved those days. I longed for them.
Then there are days like today; the first few days after the first of the month. The days when most of our bills came and I was reminded how close to the poverty line we really lived.
Today was November 3rd, so I knew even before I opened the mailbox flap what would be waiting for me on the inside. I wished I could have just ignored the mail altogether. I mean, would it be so bad for me to miss a payment or two? Really? Give a girl a break, will you Citibank and Capitol One and Wells Fargo? You can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip and you can’t squeeze money out of Maggie Dean.
Then I remembered that I was already ninety days behind on the things that I could let skate a month or two or three. The credit card people loved it when you let the balance float ninety days past due. I was paying more in late fees and interest that in principal.
Hard to believe that five dollar McDonald’s lunch that I charged to my credit card will cost me a hundred bucks or more before I get it paid off.
That’s how economics work in Maggie’s world.
Oh well. There was no need to prolong the pain any further. “Rip that Band-Aid off”, as my mom would say. I took a deep breath and opened the mailbox.
Stacked neatly inside the box was the gas bill, the phone bill, the electric bill, three credit card statements, and three threatening letters from the same credit card companies letting me know that I was ninety days behind.
No shit, Sherlock.
The hole I kept digging every month just kept getting deeper.
Gee, thanks for the reminders, guys. I mean, I had no idea I hadn’t made a payment in three months. Tell you what, let’s trade places for a week and see how you do in my shoes because I’m doing the best I can, but obviously, it isn’t good enough.
I’m one straw away from breaking the camel’s back.
And when that happens… shit, I don’t know what I’ll do.
The one bright spot of this morning’s trip to the mailbox was the thick pack of coupons at the bottom of the stack.